tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58796902314625687272024-02-19T13:39:37.599-05:00Family Rocks: The Life of PegA blog about grief, sisters, parenting, sons, nieces, marriage, friendship and all the mess in between.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.comBlogger284125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-37130428715539186282017-10-26T11:19:00.000-04:002017-10-26T18:33:38.285-04:008 years + 2 daysTwo days ago was the 8 year anniversary of the accident.<br />
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8 years. A lifetime but seems like just yesterday.<br />
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Normally I post something the day of the anniversary. Put up pictures from our "balloon day." A day L likes to call our own special holiday that is "loads of fun and sad all at the same time."<br />
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The day before I was my usual mess. The strange feeling that it's all going to happen again. I kept myself busy and took two 15 minute naps to reset my brain in order to make it through the day. I comforted M and texted with E reminding both of them that they are so loved, agree that all of this just sucks, and that it still hurts so much.<br />
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The morning at the park was lovely. Our family definitely knows how to show up. This year involved negotiating some logistics, but we figured it all as a group. The kids are always happy to be together.<br />
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The rest of the day I tried to do things to relax and sit with my feelings. I visited the cemetery and had a good one-sided talk with Jeanne and Mike. I had a strange incident with the lawn mower at the cemetery who stopped me while walking to my car. He asked me if I was visiting their grave. This was somebody who didn't know them in real life, but said he thought about them often and wondered about the girls because he remembered how sad the funeral was. After a brief comment about the girls, I fled to my car having been mentally propelled to the graveside and my dad and K having to pull me away from the coffins because I could not fathom leaving Jeanne behind. Leaving her there in the ground. At that point it all became so real.<br />
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The rest of our day was a bit of blur. We had lots going on with soccer games and a cross country meet. I had to be present for the kids. I had to be mom/aunt. Lunches needed to be made. Hugs dispensed and love given. I noticed that less people reached out to me directly. There were some comments on Facebook as usual when I posted my pictures from the morning. My in-laws didn't call or text acknowledging the day. That kinda hurt.<br />
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The next day and even into today I feel hung over. I'm really not sure how I got through yesterday. I actually left the office early. Overwhelmed with sadness and all my responsibilities and the continued profound impact on our family. I still have a tinges of jealousy of my two younger sisters, who have sometimes from my warped perspective had simpler path of grief. My feelings are so wrapped up in having to parent the girls through their loss and the loss of our family as we knew it. I hold myself in check from indulging fully in my grief to be there for the kids (or maybe it's just a defense mechanism). I think part of me is still a bit mad of Jeanne and Mike for leaving. Hints of resentment at my sisters. Then of course all of these feelings are followed with shame and guilt for even going to that space.<br />
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So here I am 8 years and 2 days out. My life is still divided by the before and after this day. I can still recall every detail from October 24, 2009 and the days that followed. I miss my sister. My girls miss their parents. I'm sad and am going to sit with that for a little longer. Our love for Jeanne and Mike deserves nothing less.<br />
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<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-38269749529130543882017-10-04T10:38:00.000-04:002017-10-04T10:38:07.696-04:00Free FallingThe last weeks have been shocking. Earthquakes. Hurricanes. Vegas.<br />
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For some reason the thing that has hit me the hardest is the passing of Tom Petty.<br />
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His music is the soundtrack of my youth.<br />
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We listen to him so much that my kids love him too.<br />
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The first mix tape K made me had "Here Comes My Girl" on it. Love that song.<br />
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His distinctive voice, cutting lyrics, and consistently old school rock and roll sound never failed me. His songs evoke love, loss, humor, longing and human connection. A true poet with a touch of bad boy.<br />
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I loved the Travelling Wilburys. George. Jeff. Roy. Bob. Tom. I keep listening to "End of the Line" and getting tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat.<br />
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Maybe the other events are so unbelievable in the scope of loss that the sudden death of Tom Petty feels more personal. <br />
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Maybe when you find an artist that you connect with it can sometimes spark an unexpected level of intimacy. Lyrics that reflect your thoughts and feelings so well that you think you know each other in real life.<br />
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Maybe his loss makes me feel old. <br />
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Maybe his death triggered my own loss. It is that time of the year. Doesn't take much to find the tears.<br />
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Refugee. Last Dance with Mary Jane. Wallflowers. Running Down a Dream. Songs that will be in my playlist forever.<br />
<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-20731093554230590062017-09-21T13:51:00.000-04:002017-09-21T13:51:38.839-04:00Less ThanYesterday afternoon we got home from work and school to a clean and organized house. The cleaning ladies had come earlier in the day while we were all out. It's always nice to come home every other week to clean floors and bathrooms and for the most part we can ignore the random movement of articles of clothing, papers or books into strange locations. I noticed yesterday, though, that one of M's blankets was in the washing machine and it had obviously been washed with a bunch of other towels. This led to the discovery that the towels in my bathroom and the boys were in the dryer. Part of me was happy to see that a long overdue task had been handled. The other part of me were filled with feelings of embarrassment and shame that all of the towels must have been really dirty for the cleaning ladies to start not one but two loads of laundry (something they have never done before).<br />
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It was another reminder of how I regularly feel "less than."<br />
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I can never give each of the kids my 100% attention or energy.<br />
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I always feel behind and not good enough at work.<br />
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Our family could probably eat more healthy food.<br />
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Our marriage often falls low on the priority list.<br />
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The house is often cluttered and disorganized.<br />
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I worry that I'm not doing enough to honor's Jeanne's memory.<br />
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Critical comments from family about the girls make me feel like we messed up somewhere along the way.<br />
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I don't do enough for myself.<br />
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I don't always have time to be the best sister, daughter and friend I can be.<br />
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On any most days, however, I am usually so busy (driving, cooking, cajoling, working, etc.) that I can't imagine being able to give more in any item in the laundry list above. Lower my expectations? Problem with that is that it's not just my expectations being measured against but those of my kids, husband, family, work colleagues, and irrationally my dead sister. Part of the equation feels out of my control.<br />
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All I know is that I'm tired. All. The. Time. And mostly I really tired of feeling "less than." It's a lonely place to be.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-8996168807793502262017-09-15T12:02:00.000-04:002017-09-15T12:59:56.586-04:00Stream of WhateverI haven't written for almost a year. No excuses other than our busy life and the feeling one gets when you haven't been to the dentist and you really need to go for a cleaning, but it's been so long you are embarrassed to make the call (not that I need to go to dentist or anything).<br />
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Here are a few tidbits of catching up in no particular order or degree of importance.<br />
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<strong>Travel.</strong> We've had some great family trips recently. A lovely beach trip down to Hilton Head, including a quick trip to Charleston which we all loved. It was a much needed week of rest, fun, great food and togetherness. A week at home and then we were off to another adventure to Idaho and the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. It was an amazing trip and we are all still talking about it. Lots of hiking, wildlife, a river trip down the Snake River and too many Ansell Adams moments to count.<br />
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<strong>Seniors!</strong> A and M are now seniors in high school...I still catch my breath thinking about it. They are both so grown up and still little kids all at the same time. We are in the midst of college applications and all that they entail. Having two at the same time is challenging to say the least. Our goal is to be finished by the end of October and then the waiting begins. E is also in her senior year in college, although technically she's in graduate school this year since she finished her double major undergrad last year so decided to start grad school. She'll stay a fifth year to finish and lately has been talking about actually starting law school at the same time...that kid can never relax.<br />
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<strong>E and M</strong>. Their relationship continues to baffle. E just puts so much pressure on M. Lots of lovely information came out of a therapy session with me and M recently about how E complains to M that she doesn't have a family and it's not fair that M does. Huh? Weird comments that nobody liked their dad? E pushes and pushes us away, while M has only clung tighter. All we can do is sit back and love them. I feel bad for both girls and hope one day E will work through her grief and trauma. It's hard on all of us.<br />
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<strong>Marriage</strong>. I think in general marriage can be tough. I don't think our issues are that unique. I do think that our life circumstances have made it more stressful. We still make each other laugh which is something. We also have created a home life where on most days at least 4 out of the 5 kids are happy, secure and know how much they are loved (secretly I think the 1 out of 5 knows that too but is afraid to admit it). <br />
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<strong>45</strong>. I really don't think I can despise a public figure any more. I will not normalize his "presidency" for our children. He is disgusting, ignorant, an embarrassment and completely unfit for office. The day he and his ilk are out of DC we will have one serious dance party in the kitchen. Navigating our social circles, work, etc. in this climate has been interesting. Finding closet racists in my life has become an uncomfortable pastime.<br />
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<strong>Teenagers</strong>. Three teenagers live in this house. Goodness. D is giving us a run for our money with the teenage attitude. I can be his best friend and enemy in a span of minutes. In his opinion, I'm sure I embarrass him in public on a daily basis.<br />
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<strong>Eevee</strong>. We adopted a kitten last fall. Her name is Eevee (yes after the Pokémon) and she is an absolute blessing in all of our lives. Her methods of waking me up early in the morning for breakfast aren't all that much fun, but her coziness is priceless. All of the kids are obsessed and have a unique loving relationship with our four pawed fuzzball.<br />
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<strong>Grief</strong>. The ever present current still flows beneath the surface of all of our lives. M really gets her loss as she matures and she's working hard in therapy to understand it. As the afternoons start to get the chill of fall I get that tug into the shadows which I try to ignore in order to get through my day. It just sucks. I miss my sister. I hurt for our girls who miss their parents. We just can't ever fully escape the grasp our loss has on our family. Part of the issue is that people outside our nuclear family feel the need to bring it up constantly when interacting with us whether it's my parents, siblings, teachers, or random parents on the sideline at a sporting event. Even the simplest interactions when I'm introduced as M's aunt makes for awkward explanations. <br />
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<strong>Me</strong>. Aging sucks. My athlete's body is starting to whine about the abuse I've put it through over the years. Aching knee. Arthritic fingers. I have lots of visions in my head of starting up running again and looking forward to playing more soccer. I just don't have the energy between work and the family. I have a hard time making time for myself other than mindless tv and reading late at night.<br />
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Brain dump over. I want to write more. I think I need to write more. Nothing grandiose or earth shattering. Maybe simply getting back to chronicling my journey as a means to process and remind myself that we are all alright and find those little pockets of hope and gratitude.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-39278658520540988032016-10-24T13:45:00.000-04:002016-10-24T13:45:47.561-04:00Balloon Day 2016<div style="border-image: none;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRcBU1UnoeC9Sj1iPnWoMXvcrgFMSl5hYpaYNSP4VWkZlBU4SgrCk4ishQzJG_6xkvaKqZA_Fgt5tB0nKOgAHXuQga-w5uqPY9LoR9vmNFajW6zGm8SMXmYEH-yT4s65qIoJx7KCgHd9Jf/s1600/IMG_8661+-+Copy+-+Copy+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwSq91RiwbrCnn5SRd6BTZGUYBBTBN6Ym8MbMA8GitfP6vKCpWI15EkjV8Xxged3a2Lma0fBqPPoMiSd-la1daut1k61Hl575UxwOj_XUiFtniA6KrMMcjnIpwrA-KHNa7iUYV-nOSnqq/s1600/IMG_8976+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEwSq91RiwbrCnn5SRd6BTZGUYBBTBN6Ym8MbMA8GitfP6vKCpWI15EkjV8Xxged3a2Lma0fBqPPoMiSd-la1daut1k61Hl575UxwOj_XUiFtniA6KrMMcjnIpwrA-KHNa7iUYV-nOSnqq/s640/IMG_8976+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></a></div>
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The whole family (minus E who is at school)</div>
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M and her little sisters.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWv-VYLpv1mGeNg8ko0vsMAwrArX7FU_BHYPnfpFuIhyphenhyphenT2TVGRDFJgfMAitSmtfK-wU3ITY2d7TA_R4NhJ8KcRF9q66Bcu7clMK3zbOmekXYYEbHayAFGOPVt_smUn-7TTey1hIAqZ_L3x/s1600/IMG_8990.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWv-VYLpv1mGeNg8ko0vsMAwrArX7FU_BHYPnfpFuIhyphenhyphenT2TVGRDFJgfMAitSmtfK-wU3ITY2d7TA_R4NhJ8KcRF9q66Bcu7clMK3zbOmekXYYEbHayAFGOPVt_smUn-7TTey1hIAqZ_L3x/s640/IMG_8990.JPG" width="427" /></a></div>
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My boys.</div>
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Cousins and siblings.</div>
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My sweet L.</div>
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H and my funny A.</div>
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Hugs for MG from the aunts.</div>
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Cousins on the rocks.</div>
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Best buddies.</div>
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Slides are fun.</div>
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The 16 year olds.</div>
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Me and K.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wdiSoxmJCqzHAGJGG8MvXWxUFFmPr3o4sg7bZt4pffwA3qa_uwiuujzw_AYYQR3hgEp5IDL2rgeWHgmergbtNIHKKwbMbaqFNhfNCzX0XH6kUBW3pDw0WkdVtX1wSgj8-5-xS9sTR3FM/s1600/IMG_8846+-+Copy+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7wdiSoxmJCqzHAGJGG8MvXWxUFFmPr3o4sg7bZt4pffwA3qa_uwiuujzw_AYYQR3hgEp5IDL2rgeWHgmergbtNIHKKwbMbaqFNhfNCzX0XH6kUBW3pDw0WkdVtX1wSgj8-5-xS9sTR3FM/s640/IMG_8846+-+Copy+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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All the little cousins love A.</div>
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Writing our messages to heaven.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYNLkAk7bit2SHlh49Bl8HNPamaKunUa1Hhff2N0Y-h9I2215XZFVJf5beH4gJ1HE9ExkuXi-8M2kSwvufWYyQMHUUFh9A1F8yRUooso1lNoLjinp6V2BQ2SKpzp905By4UAafSwA6Ldw/s1600/IMG_8951+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYNLkAk7bit2SHlh49Bl8HNPamaKunUa1Hhff2N0Y-h9I2215XZFVJf5beH4gJ1HE9ExkuXi-8M2kSwvufWYyQMHUUFh9A1F8yRUooso1lNoLjinp6V2BQ2SKpzp905By4UAafSwA6Ldw/s640/IMG_8951+-+Copy.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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3 year old S and C.</div>
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The kiddos.</div>
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J and M.</div>
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L and M.</div>
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7 years of loss. 7 years of love. We miss you Jeanne and Mike today and everyday.</div>
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<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-45448055730092753242016-10-23T21:41:00.000-04:002016-10-23T21:41:47.042-04:00This is what......7 years out looks like.<br />
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If you were 9 when your parents died, you are now 16 and have matured enough to understand your loss in more depth. You have a panic attack at school 6 days out from the anniversary and need to come home, where you cuddle on the couch with the kitten in your uncles t-shirt, watch Return of the Jedi and baby talk at various point in the afternoon.<br />
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If you are a grieving 20 year old, you continue to push away all your emotions regarding that day while simultaneously pushing away those who love you because everything just hurts too much.<br />
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Teenage boy cousins try to be there for their siblings while trying to hide their own emotions about the day and our loss. The are "forced" by their 16 year old cousin to provide tons of hugs.<br />
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9 year olds who have lived with loss, grief, and stress for most of their lives are fairly anxious and still worry about something happening to "their" family. Conversations about death are a constant companion.<br />
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Most friends don't remember the exact day anymore. The annual Facebook post of pictures from balloon day will remind them. They will comment that they can't believe it's been 7 years, while you still feel like the accident happened yesterday.<br />
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You will think about the accident every. single. day. You will still be shocked when at times the feelings of grief sneak up on you and pierce your heart.<br />
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You still think about what your life and your children's life would be like if the accident never happened. This makes you sad.<br />
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You worry that you haven't done enough to memorialize their death. Adopting their kids doesn't seem like enough. <br />
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Nobody really understands how this feels. Illogically feeling like the accident is going to happen again. Relieving the moments before and after and wondering how the accident actually happened. Why? Why? Why?<br />
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You do know that the anxiety and stress the day before is worse than the actual day. You plan things for that day to be kind to yourself.<br />
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Even though it's been 7 years, you never stop remembering. You never stop grieving. And you certainly never stop loving...that's the only thing that keeps you going.<br />
<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-47306230229140605032016-09-02T09:53:00.002-04:002016-09-02T09:53:30.974-04:00Never AgainThe other night I was surfing channels and came across the movie Brooklyn. My father-in-law (British of Irish descent) bugged me non-stop last spring to go see it since they had seen it twice in the theatre. The movie is about a young Irish immigrant who comes to America and falls in love with an Italian American, yadda, yadda, yadda. Anyway, I happened to start watching about 10 minutes before the main character finds out her older sister has died back in Ireland. As she's being consoled by her parish priest, she realizes the finality of situation as he explains that the sister will be buried the next day. Tears welling in her eyes, she looks up at him and asks, "But Father, I'll never see her again will I?"<br />
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I started crying. Tears rolling down my face. It's been almost 7 years since Jeanne died. I think about her every day, but I try not to think about her being dead, as strange as that might seem. My big sister is dead and I'm never going to see her again. The finality of that fact is still unreal and hard to accept.<br />
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***************<br />
Sorry for the long absence. Just haven't had the time or the writing mojo.<br />
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Too much has happened both good and bad to fill you in on how things are going in our family. All the kids are fine in varying degrees of "fineness." All five carry bundles of anxiety and I work hard trying to help them each find ways to handle that load. The difficulty of that job is compounded by my own anxious bundle.<br />
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We have three high school teenagers in the house now. Just that fact is a bit scary.<br />
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I am reminded daily what a blessing it is to have a 9 year old in the house.<br />
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Being independent and in college doesn't mean you still don't need parents, even though you still can't accept them as your family.<br />
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Marriage is hard. I wish it wasn't. I've lowered my expectations in that area which makes it both easier to accept and sadder.<br />
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Not sure why I decided to write today. The reason for me starting this blog is still as difficult as it was 6 years ago to accept. Hoping to start writing again since it has always been a great way to deal with that reality.<br />
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Thanks for reading.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-37461454566823098872016-02-10T13:44:00.001-05:002016-02-10T13:44:41.030-05:00Settled<div class="verse" priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="">
<em>Well it's funny with age<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> you get to the stage<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> your head and your heart<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> Aren't on the same page<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> Your heart will wait forever but your skin says you're getting old</em></div>
<div class="verse" priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="">
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<em>Good things come to those who wait<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> well the lights were up and it was getting late<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" />She wore my coat because she said that she was cold<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> Funny how quick a coat turns into a ring<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> Looking back now I don't remember a thing<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> We don't talk about the writing on the wall<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> Somedays we don't talk at all<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> But when the lights are dim<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> And my time is free</em></div>
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<em>I sometimes think about the good times that I missed<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> Sometimes think about the girls I could have kissed<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> But I settled for her<br priority_psa_not_processed="" psa_not_processed="" /> And she settled for me</em></div>
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<em>-</em>"Settled" by Passenger</div>
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He was my high school friend's big brother. He was cute, funny, smart and a soccer player. The complete package to my 19 year old self.</div>
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He's still the perfect package to me. The package is a bit beat up. Marred by resentments, hurts, family stress, breakages of trust and pain.</div>
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I'm no perfect package these days either. Grumpy. Yelling way too much. Tired. Sad.</div>
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I don't want to settle for our status quo. I don't want "this" to be it, with us waking up one day with the kids out of the house and that house filled with a deafening silence of two people who lost their way.</div>
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I love him too much for that. I love "us" too much for that.</div>
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Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-25913660912848363072016-01-22T14:44:00.000-05:002016-01-22T14:50:07.796-05:00BlizzardA snow storm of historic proportions just started. As the flakes peacefully fall from the sky, our family is prepped and ready for an extended hunkering down with plenty of food, games, firewood, and non-stop watching of the weather channel (that's all D our resident meteorologist). It feels a bit like Christmas Eve, with the anticipation of something momentous to come.<br />
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I haven't written in a long time. A really long time. There are lots of reasons for this fact. Busy with family stuff. A horrible work situation where I had to request to be taken off of the project I had been running due to a hostile work environment. A pretty awful 20th wedding anniversary and further marital woes. The holidays. A vacation to FL after Christmas with the kids (car broke down on way, I threw up the whole time, with a flat tire the day after we got there). Fatigue on my part both physically and emotionally that limits my urges to write in this space. This laundry list, though, doesn't seem that much different from my usual venting about the stress that is my life.<br />
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<br />
This extended writing break seems different. My life in the last few months hasn't been bad as much as it hasn't been good. This distinction based on the consistency of the normal bad things, but my inability to find as much good on a daily basis.<br />
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<br />
I have not been feeling very well on all counts. I've had a hard time shifting out of the sadness from October. Totally disconnected from those around me and struggling to simply get all the stuff done I need to in order to keep our family afloat. I have tried to be normal mom for the kids, but I think they have noticed. A especially often tells me how much he loves me and expressing his thanks for doing basic things. Physically, I've lost weight (not good) and am so very tired all the time. I wake up most mornings with awful anxiety and dread for the day ahead.<br />
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<br />
Maybe my writing avoidance is my inability to admit how bad it really is.<br />
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I have been trying to change the tide. I've been going to therapy and at least admitting to her how badly I've been feeling. I've tried to make sure I get to my indoor soccer game once a week. Power naps during the day to restart my engine and clear the brain. Reading before I go to bed to settle my thoughts. I'm trying, but it feels like I'm trying to swim out of a rip current and not making much process.<br />
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<br />
Not sure where I'm going with this post. I'm sorry for not writing as much, and sorry to my blogging friends for my lack of comments. I've been reading, just not finding the time to comment. A difficult time connecting with those in my real life, is exponentially harder in the blogosphere.<br />
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<br />
This blizzard has provided the gift of uninterrupted time. Its weekend occurrence allowing me the freedom from work demands and kid logistics. D is currently making cookies. L wants to play a game. I may indulge this with a quick dice game and then maybe take a nap. <br />
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I hope everyone being affected by the blizzard stays safe and warm. As long as we don't lose power, I'm looking forward to this forced period of slowing down. I definitely can use it.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-38565879015323182142015-10-29T16:29:00.002-04:002015-10-29T16:29:21.910-04:00Eulogy6 years ago today I stood before hundreds of people who knew and loved Jeanne and Mike and spoke these words. I was surrounded by my sisters as we each took our turn to talk. I was at the most peace at that moment that I had felt since the accident.<br />
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**************************************<br />
<br /><br />
Good morning and thank you everyone for coming to be here
with our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Words can’t begin to
describe how much we appreciate the love and support we’ve received over the
last several days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please know that even
if we have not yet been able to thank you personally we know how much our
family is loved and are blessed by the prayers for us and the girls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>K and I would especially like to thank
our friends and K's family for helping us get through this and taking
care of our boys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are truly blessed
to have you in our lives.<br />
<br /><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Several times during the last few days, as appointments have
been made and jobs have been doled out amongst ourselves, I’ve found myself
going through my head making a plan and deciding who is going to do what. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whenever it involves us sisters together I’ve
automatically thought, me, CA, Jeanne, C and S.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The five us have always been a unit. Moving forward without Jeanne is still unbelievable. </div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>As those of you who know us well, we are an
extremely close family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>C and I
joke sometimes that at times we’re in each others lives a little too
much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From E’s latest
swimming achievement, to A’s broken arm to the latest antics from W
and I, the family communication system goes into effect and within
hours or sometimes even minutes, we all know what’s going on and a shared laugh
is circulating or help is on the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">The family communication system is never more effective than when we are sharing the sporting lives of our kids. And Jeanne and Mike were the ultimate sports parents, whether it was showing a good example to their kids of a healthy lifestyle with their running and biking (usually with a dog in tow and jog stroller), or cheering loudly from the sidelines or pool decks. One of my favorite things is our Monday morning phone conversations recounting scores from the day before and how our respective little athletes had performed. This is actually one of the only areas that I was able to give Jeanne some advice and I liked that my "big" sister would listen to me when it came to soccer and the girls.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
It goes without saying that Jeanne and Mike were amazing
people and parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jeanne taught me how
to be a mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is always my go-to
person with questions, from how to set up a nap schedule to what to do with
fevers and homework.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has been my
lifeline.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wouldn’t be the mother I am
today without her.</div>
<br /><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
But Mike and Jeanne also had their wild side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sons A and D love me to tell the
Aunt Jeanne legend about when she ate her entire hotdog dinner before we had
even said grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll never forget the
phone call mom received one Monday afternoon from the principal at O’Connell
that Jeanne was in trouble for going off-campus during lunch and getting a diet
coke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was a senior in high
school, my sister-in-law Sonya and I travelled to James Madison to see the
campus and stay with Zhea and she actually bought us beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike taught me how to smoke a cigar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or who doesn’t recently remember K’s 40<sup>th</sup>
birthday party or any of the McNutt Christmas parties, where Jeanne and Mike
were the life of the party and more often than not the last ones to leave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even then, they both showed us how important
family and friends were to them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
remember any party or family get together that didn’t end with a huge hug from
Mike and him telling me we have to do this more often, getting our families
together to share a meal, drink a beer (or two), play some waffle-ball or just
share time together.</div>
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<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Mom and Dad, I am so sorry for your loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a parent myself, I can only imagine what you’re going through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But please know, that our closeness and the love we have shared as sisters is because of you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your example of love, patience, humor, and forgiveness has helped us beyond measure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though our world is forever changed I have faith that this bond you’ve created between us will never be broken and will help us in the days, months and years to come.</div>
<br /><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Mike Sr., Molly, Tim, Sara, Joe, John, and Andrew I am also
so sorry for your loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please know how
much Mike was loved by all of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had
the great honor of being the first brother-in-law.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he truly was our brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His love, patience and kindness to all of us
sisters was amazing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From early on he
was at every soccer game, family event, home project and important family
moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that he has helped
K, DG and CS be the wonderful brother-in-laws, husbands and fathers
that they are today.</div>
<br /><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
E, M, MG and KT.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All four of us were there within minutes
after each of you were born.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
never seen your parents happier than on each of those days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your parents loved you the moment you came
into their lives and it has multiplied each and every moment of every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were the center of their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Please remember that even though they’re not
here, that love will never go away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Their immense love pulled all of us into your lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your parents left us that legacy
and we will always love you and will do our very best each day to
remind you of that love and take care of you. </div>
<br /><br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
I really don’t know what else to say and then at the same
time there is still so much to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jeanne and Mike I love you and I miss you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, everyone thank you for all of your
love and support, please keep us and girls in your prayers.</div>
<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-31950460793673578692015-10-25T22:08:00.001-04:002015-10-25T22:08:37.503-04:00October 24, 2015....6 Years of Balloons to Heaven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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MG, L and KT</div>
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Sister C, A and M</div>
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D, K and Sister S</div>
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M and D</div>
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Sister C and cousin W</div>
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The men of the family</div>
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The twins that are not twins</div>
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Brothers J and W</div>
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Our sweet M</div>
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Cousins I and MG</div>
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D and M with baby cousin S (with A in the back)</div>
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My parents</div>
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The whole crew (minus E)</div>
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Just the kids</div>
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Me and K</div>
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My family</div>
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The boys</div>
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Our family's goofy picture</div>
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The family</div>
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Cousins and siblings</div>
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L melts my heart with that smile</div>
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The littlest cousins H and S</div>
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It was a good morning overall. I was very tired from a late night the night before travelling to and from to see E and delivering her balloons (she was touched and grateful). As the kids played and adults talked, I was able to hide behind my camera and capture all the love in our family alongside the bittersweet reason for our gathering. I had a good cry on the way home from A's cross country meet by myself in the car.</div>
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Later that night the cousins (minus MG and KT) all hung out at sister S's house while the adults (minus my parents, CA and KM) went out to dinner and had a few beers. Telling funny stories about Jeanne and Mike minus the kids around was nice. </div>
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I feel emotionally hung over today. We've been busy with lots of soccer all day so tonight has been the first time I've had to post. I'm hoping to move through this week of remembering the days after the accident as just that, moments to remember, not another round of heightened anxiety.</div>
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Another year without them. Another year of moving on.</div>
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I love you Jeanne and Mike. I miss you every day and hope you know how much.</div>
<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-17794810801695647142015-10-22T10:40:00.001-04:002015-10-22T10:40:37.407-04:00BiggerLast night L and I got home about 7:30 after his soccer practice and I was immediately barraged by the 15 year olds. A's foot is sore with a little bit of tendinitis and he's worried about his run on Saturday (side note: based on when he's running, he can come to balloons!!). He's buying a tiger salamander and since the last pieces of the habitat he's making arrived yesterday he wanted to know when we could order it. M on the other hand wanted to give me a detailed explanation of why their biology lab report was going to suck and how it's not her fault and she thinks one of the girls is faking a concussion to get out of doing the work. She also needed a hug. And then another. And then for good measure just hang on me with her head on my shoulder. L meanwhile needed to get his gear off and was hungry. Simultaneously E was texting me from school NOT to come to the meet tomorrow because "her body is completely nonfunctional in the water" and I should just come down to bring her to dinner. This was all after my dad called me on the way home to say, "Take it or leave it, but I think M might be in a funk and I wasn't sure you noticed." Really grandpa? You think? Thank goodness D was at soccer practice.<br />
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As all their needs were pelting me, I had this sudden feeling that I need to be bigger than myself this week. An image of myself as Baymax from the movie Big Hero 6 popped into my head. Blowing myself up to be their cushion and comfort. Expanding myself to be more than I really feel like being this week.<br />
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What I'd like to do is stay under the covers all week. Watch mindless tv. Listen to songs that trigger some good therapeutic cries. Do lots of nothing. Sit and be little sister Peg who lost her big sister and wants nothing more than to be able to talk her one more time. Hear her laugh again. Give her one more hug.<br />
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But that Peg can't be in the cards much this week. The kids need me to be present and let them know everything is ok. My parents need me to show them we are all alright. My sisters need me to be the rock. <br />
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So here's a pep talk to big Peg: We'll get through this week. You got this. You've done it before and you'll do it again.<br />
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<em>I believe in this road we’re on, but grace going nearly gone, <br /> Days are quick and these nights getting long<br /> I see you wonder if you will sit alone, my heart’s always with you but I fail with my skin and bones<br /> Great lights in darkness have been shown<br /> I hear you laughing still, oh conquer worlds we will<br /> Warmer waters are waiting near for us, but leave right now my dear we must<br /> For I fear our love grows cold, but if we go we will save our weary souls<br /> Oh cling to me promise you will, as we travel through these valleys and hills<br /> When all is said and done I will seek your name still<br /> For love is no grandstand nor a pocket piece, when my hands are not dirty it shakes me to my knees<br /> And all the world sees, that it’s gone from me<br />My heart and my soul are home in your eyes, so bring just yourself leave the rest behind <br /> This body of mine oh it would move a mountain for that body of yours shining in the ocean <br /> I hear you laughing still, conquer worlds we will</em><br />
--Save Our Weary Souls, The J Band Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-53420485235257963572015-10-20T10:07:00.000-04:002015-10-20T10:31:56.066-04:00What You Can't KnowThis post is for the several people this week who have said to me, "It's been 6 years since the accident? It must be not as bad after all that time." Or for good measure, "The girls are doing so well and seem so happy. They must be over their parents dying." To those people, this is how this week feels.<br />
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As irrational as it sounds, it feels like we are going to live the accident and the aftermath all over again. The anticipation is physically and emotionally draining. The trauma of that night is permanently imprinted in my mind. As the memories come back in spurts throughout the day, I have an anxious feeling in my stomach, my chest feels tight like a heavy weight is sitting on it and I get hives. I feel sleepy and tired. The only way to escape this feeling is to close my eyes and try to take a quick nap. 20 minutes sleep can often reset my body and mind. This is all after years of therapy which have helped with my day-to-day, but can't stop the tide of feelings this week.<br />
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6 years is actually a very difficult number. The accident happened on a Saturday and the anniversary this year also falls on a Saturday. This means that the accident day and all the days following will fall exactly on the same days. You may think that it sounds silly, but that makes it even worse.<br />
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Triggers for the trauma come in all forms. Sunday night we ordered Chinese for dinner because we had a crazy day. I didn't think anything of it, until I sat down to eat and was transported back to a Saturday night 6 years ago when the Chinese food arrived minutes before I got a phone call from my sister that there had been an accident. I couldn't eat. In general, I'm having problems eating (see above paragraph about the anxious stomach).<br />
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Grieving while parenting grieving children is hard. E and M are both struggling. Thank goodness I was able to get M into an extra therapy session last night. The boys are worried about her and have been giving her extra hugs and attention. L is very clingy and wants to make sure everyone in his family is alive. A is worried that he is going to miss balloon day because he's running varsity in the championship cross country meet this Saturday. He knows how important it is for him to be there for M. I think my physical symptoms are worse because I bottle up my own grief in order to support the kids.<br />
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The accident suddenly took away two people in our family. We miss them terribly, but it also was absolutely devastating to the fabric of our family. The decisions surrounding who was going to take the girls and ultimately splitting them up were gut wrenching. Those decisions have had permanent negative impacts on our relationships. My parents have never been the same. Guilt, hurt, jealousy, and anger have seeped into our family bonds. It's hard to handle at times.<br />
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I've documented for years here in this space how our immediate family has been affected. In many ways, we have been defined by our trauma.<br />
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Grief can be very isolating. There are often feelings of an "otherness" that you can't understand unless you have experienced it. Empty statements of support or canned phrases like "it will get better with time" only make me think something is wrong with me for feeling this way. It sometimes feels like we're living in an alternate universe. <br />
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So for those people who think we've "gotten over it" that is definitely not the case. Other people may not have the same reactions, but this is my reality. A reality I wouldn't wish for anybody, let alone my children. Unless you've been through something similar, you can't know how this feels. So rather than offering platitudes or, as a friend did last night when I told her I was struggling, text me stupid pictures of kittens hoping I have a better day, simply say, "I'm sorry." "I'm thinking of you." "I love you."<br />
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Anything else just makes an already awful situation worse.<br />
<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-51534001542068945872015-10-15T10:24:00.001-04:002015-10-15T10:30:04.335-04:00It's Coming9 days till the accident anniversary.<br />
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The crisp fall air and changing daylight are triggers.<br />
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Talking lots with L about dying, funerals and heaven.<br />
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M is throwing up all kinds of red flags that she's struggling. Fake injuries complete with dramatic limps and moans. It's tiring and sad. My patience is being sorely tested.<br />
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E was home for fall break which was nice. I could tell she is feeling it too. She doesn't want to come home for the balloon release, but asked me to drive down the day before to see her swim and be with her. It will be hard to do the trip down and back in one day, but I will be there for our girl.<br />
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My brain is a fog. Physical signs of anxiety stretch throughout my day...anxious stomach, hives, tight chest.<br />
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As with the last 6 years the days leading up are always worse than the actual day. Trying to keep that in mind to trudge through the coming days.<br />
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<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-45850605845357612312015-10-08T10:31:00.000-04:002015-10-08T10:38:54.406-04:00My RockI have a friend, G. She is moving. To Houston. I am really sad.<br />
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We first met at our neighborhood tot lot (across the street from my house) after we'd been in the neighborhood for a few years. When we first moved in I would dutifully walk across the street with A and D on Monday afternoons when all the kids that go to public school would hang after early dismissal. I smiled. I tried to enter conversations. But I was pretty much ignored. It was a tough crowd to break into. First, I was a working mom (granted I work 3 days at home), but due to my schedule I couldn't participate in any of the organized play groups to meet other moms. Then, as my kids got older, we didn't go to the local public school putting us further on the outside of what seemed to me at the time as an impenetrable fortress.<br />
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Then one day my boys were sitting watching some older boys (as in one year older than A) play football. I could tell they wanted to play but were too shy to ask. Then suddenly a mom who must have seen the dynamic walked up and yelled over to her son, "Hey Lou! Why don't you ask these boys to play?" While the other boys rolled their eyes, sweet Lou walked over, introduced himself and asked them to be on his team. Now nobody would throw them the ball, but after D tackled a few of the big boys to the ground a little acceptance was gained. <br />
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I walked over to thank this nice mom and we got to talking. Turns out we both like to read, have similar senses of humor and take similar attitudes towards parenting. A friendship slowly started building. When L was born, her oldest daughter became my "mom's helper." I loved hanging with her kids and got mad soccer props from Lou for being a "soccer mom" who could actually play.<br />
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Then the accident happened. Family tragedy can be a clear litmus test for friendships. G was always there when I needed her. She never tried to be intrusive in our shock and grief. Lots of people would drop off dinner, but then try to stay and "get the scoop" about what really happened and how the girls were. One of my favorite memories of her help was when I called and told her we had no toilet paper and within minutes a package was on our porch with no questions. All of this while her own mother was dying. <br />
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A week after the accident was Halloween and many people avoided our house thinking we wouldn't hand out candy or that our boys wouldn't trick or treat. I'll never forget sitting on our porch waiting for someone to come so I could hand out the candy in my giant bucket watching kids and parents pass by our house. Then out of the dark up walked Lou who gave me a huge hug and told me how sorry he was (okay tears forming in my eyes just thinking about that night).<br />
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Over the years our friendship has deepened. Her husband is one of my favorite people. She is my late night text buddy. Most days don't go by without her making me laugh. G gives me tough love when I need it. She is my go-to person with help with rides for the kids (this seems like a trivial thing but you need to understand that my kids don't like riding in cars with other people besides me and K--she is just that special). My kids love her and I truly know that she loves my kids.<br />
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She is the only in real life (IRL) friend that reads my blog. <br />
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So this post is a tribute to my rock. One of only a handful of people I truly know is my friend and who I always know I can count on. <br />
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Love you G. I'll miss you. Thank goodness my texts will still reach you in Houston.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-28551570352300829252015-10-06T11:41:00.001-04:002015-10-06T13:08:14.386-04:00Mr. IndependentWe had one of our normal busy weeks last week. Lots of school, sports, work stuff all jumbled together. Things got a bit disrupted too with all the weather related cancellations, practice moves, etc. <br />
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Somewhere in there a postcard project on a country from South America got lost in the mix.<br />
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Backtrack a few weeks ago, when L came bounding into the house after school and declared he had a project to do in Spanish and he was picking Chile because Daddy used to live there and Granddaddy E goes there all the time. "Sounds good buddy!' I declared and filed it away in my every expanding and contracting index card holder in my brain off all the little things that need to get done in our family. I think I might have vaguely asked when it was due and I think his equally vague response was "sometime in October."<br />
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Flash forward to Saturday night about 7:30 when K, D and I rolled in from a soccer game about 2 hours away. L stayed home with A and M (and a friend of A's) because it was a rainy day he wanted to stay home with the big kids. As we walked in and I asked how the day had gone, L declared that he finished his Chile project.<br />
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I looked at him surprisingly, "You did? When is it due again?"<br />
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He looked up at me and very matter-of-factly declared, "Oh it was due on Tuesday, but I told her that I had completely forgot and she said she'd give me an extension. So I just did it."<br />
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First the wave of mom guilt hit me that I didn't have any idea when the project was due and wasn't there to help him. Then I thought that I'd better make sure I check it over because how good of a job could he have done pulling the information together on his own? Especially with all of the shenanigans that most likely went on while we were gone with the teenagers, I was very doubtful about how well he had completed the assignment. Then I got distracted by being shown video evidence of the shenanigans and completely forgot about the late assignment.<br />
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Flash forward again to Monday morning when I looked through his backpack to make sure I signed everything in his test folder. Low and behold there was the "postcard" about Chile he had written and including a drawing of an Easter Island statue. I started reading and much to my surprise he did a great job! It hit all the major points he was supposed to make and he even had a joke (very signature L). <br />
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I sometimes feel bad that L gets the short shift right now in our parenting. The big kids take up a lot of time. Our little L as the youngest has always been our "no fanfare" just get my shit done kid. He gets home from school, grabs a snack and does his homework. He rarely asks for help. Even the fact that he told the teacher he forgot and then took it upon himself to be responsible and get it done is so very unlike the other kids. The other kids would have brought much more drama (tears) and most likely an email from me to the teacher explaining that "we" had forgot.<br />
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In some ways being the youngest stinks. In other ways, though, L is getting the skills that will do him very well in the future. I am always proud of him, but this one kinda took the cake. He's a pretty cool kid. Love him.<br />
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Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-45925423233398311632015-09-30T20:11:00.000-04:002015-09-30T22:41:59.170-04:00Habits<em>And in time<br /> As one reminds the other of past<br /> A life lived much too fast to hold onto<br /> How am I losing you?<br /><br /> A broken house<br /> Another dry month waiting for the rain<br /> And I had been resisting this decay<br /> I thought you'd do the same<br /><br /> But this is all I ever was<br /> And this is all you came across those years ago<br /> Now you go too far<br /> Don't tell me that I've changed because that's not the truth<br /> And now I'm losing you<br /><br /> Fragile sound<br /> The world outside just watches as we crawl<br /> Crawl towards a life of fragile lines<br /> And wasted time</em><br />
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-Ditmas, Mumford and Sons<br />
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I was just driving through the neighborhood after dropping D off at practice and Ditmas came on the stereo. It hasn't come up on my IPod in a while and I forgot how much I like it. I quickly turned up the volume and started singing and car seat dancing. I was literally rocking out. It got me to thinking about what some of the neighbors might think if they saw me. It led me to memories of Saturday night when we went out with our friends from college to see an 80s cover band. We drank and danced and had a blast with people who've known and loved us for over 25 years. Dancing to "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and rocking out in my car to Mumford feels like the real me. Just like I always feel better after I play soccer. I forget about my stress and only focus on the present moment.<br />
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I've gotten out of the habit of writing on this blog. The first month of the school year (plus all the kids' sports) coupled with being unbelievably busy at work has conspired to wipe away lots of my habits. I just wrote an 88 page technical document for work which required working long days and late nights for the last few weeks. Writing for work is exhausting taking away all of my energy to write in this space. While I'm pretty proud of the work I did for my client, it made it hard to be a good mom. The house looks like a tornado hit it. We have all gotten used to grabbing laundry out of the dryer or from piles of folded clothes on the floor in the family room. Menu planning has gone out the window. Too many diet cokes and late night Oreos as coping mechanisms. Bad habits have won out.<br />
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On the other hand, needing to be overly focused on something as intense as this deliverable means that it doesn't leave a lot of room to be worried about other things. Work stress has trumped lots of things this last month. I could put my earphones on and drown in the intricate work I was doing and have the perfect reason not to do things that I would normally do or think about the tough things in my life. I had a good excuse to let things slide. There hasn't been a lot of mental room for deep thinking. My grief can be put back in its jar.<br />
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My little car jam session, though, clicked something in my head. I am very easily overwhelmed by my life stress that I forget that it's <em>my life--</em>the life of a beer drinking, soccer playing, sometimes bad language using, book reading, Bravo TV watching, goofy woman. My role as mom (or in the last month principal analyst) sometimes squishes that Peg. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom (I don't love work that much). I am so busy managing our family, though, that I usually forget about my own needs. I struggle with finding my own identity outside of being Mommy/Aunt Peg.<br />
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We've just entered what I've been referring to as our "cluster of grief." September 9th was Mike's birthday and then we move to the accident anniversary, Jeanne's birthday, their wedding anniversary and the holidays. I decided tonight that I'm going to try really hard not to get overwhelmed by the cluster. I'm going to try to remember to find those moments of being normal Peg (even if the other moms in our neighborhood think I'm a nutcase).<br />
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I need to get back into the habit of writing here. It's so good for my mental health. I've been forming posts in my head. Things like my new research on the girls and attachment issues, watching A and M's relationship development as siblings, problems with some other soccer moms, and building issues with CA. I also need to get back to journaling about our everyday--homecoming asks, baseball fun, and life with a hilarious 8 year old.<br />
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Thanks for bearing with me. I don't want to lose the real me. I don't want to look back on my life and only remember work crap, driving and cooking. I am more than that.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-32765623924187860812015-09-02T22:47:00.000-04:002015-09-02T23:30:37.305-04:00Some Things Just Don't Go AwayWe were on our way to L's soccer practice yesterday when traffic came to a stop on the two lane road which leads to the field. It's a pretty windy road and in parts there aren't actually any center lines. This is a horse farm area and the initial intention of the road wasn't meant for tons of soccer moms dropping their kids off at our club's soccer facility, or what has become a cut through for a bordering neighborhood to avoid a major congestion area.<br />
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First, my neighbor friend called and let me know that the road was blocked. She said she wasn't sure what was going on but saw two ambulances so we assumed it was an accident. She also noted that she saw a little girl crying on the side of the road.<br />
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A little girl. I knew my sister was probably just ahead of me bringing my niece to practice. My thoughts immediately jumped to "maybe it was them." I quickly called her. She answered and let me know that she was already turned around and was working on a detour to get to the field. I explained why I called. She totally understand why I went there in my mind.<br />
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Our car finally got to the part where the police had blocked the road with cones and we were able to turn around. I said a silent prayer of thanks that due to the nature of the road, and where they had stopped traffic, we didn't have a view of the accident.<br />
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40 minutes later, after we had navigated ourselves to the fields through back roads, my levels of anxiety has dissipated, and I pushed the possible accident to the back of my mind.<br />
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*************************<br />
When I got home hours later after M's high school scrimmage, I mentioned to K what had happened and absentmindedly told him that L's coach wasn't there which made for a crazy night for the kids with other coaches filling in. K immediately said, "Maybe it was coach C in the accident? Why else would he not be at practice?" I didn't want it to be true despite his logic. "Somebody would have known if it was him. Maybe he had something else going on. Maybe it wasn't an accident on the road at all but was something at one of the farms." I didn't want it to be true and convinced myself it wasn't. L loves his coach and we really like him too. His Scottish sense of humor, combined with his patience with the boys has been great. He and I have become friends over the last couple years and as a person I really like him.<br />
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**************************<br />
This morning the email came telling us Coach C was in the accident. A woman going in the opposite direction wasn't paying attention and was speeding and smashed directly into his car on the driver's side.<br />
<br />
Thank goodness he is okay. Bruised, cut up, burned from the side air bag, and a bad headache. No broken bones or internal injuries and the CT scan was clear for any brain injury.<br />
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I immediately thought of how I was going to tell the kids, especially L. When he and D got home from school, I first told him that everything was ok and Coach C was fine but that he was in the car accident from the day before and wouldn't be there tonight. The initial look on his face was fear. Raw fear. Then he repeated, "But he's okay...can we not talk about it?" D repeated the same assurances and went up to his room where I found him a few minutes later on his bed rubbing the satin portion of Louis (his lovey) which is something he does when he's nervous. I asked him if everything was ok and said, "Fine, leave me alone."<br />
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When I told A he wanted to see the pictures. He wanted details. He said, "Wow mom, he's lucky...and we know that sometimes you don't get lucky." Yeah, buddy we know all about that.<br />
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M started talking a mile a minute wanting to know what happened. I kept it simple saying he was okay and like L she repeated me several times and then changed the subject. I thought about how rough driver's ed is going to be for her this year.<br />
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***************************<br />
Here's the thing. I am slowly learning to accept that Jeanne and Mike aren't coming back. And while I don't go to the same panic/anxiety levels when I think about the accident the multiple times a day like I used to (thanks to some good therapy work), car accidents are still a major trigger for me and our entire family. All the kids have been a bit off tonight. L struggled through practice and was almost in tears declaring "I was awful tonight!!!" I knew why those tears were really building and in hindsight I should have just kept him home.<br />
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My day has been peppered with thoughts of their accident. How did it happen? Why didn't Mike keep control of the car? How did the other driver lose control? Was she texting? Did they know what was happening? Why? Why? Why?<br />
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It's been almost 6 years. We may all be getting closer to acceptance, but really, some things just don't go away.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-80260138043704173642015-09-01T11:09:00.000-04:002015-09-01T11:09:04.959-04:00StartsAll five are back to school. I can't believe how big and old they all are (sniff, sniff).<br />
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E in her new apartment.</div>
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L in 3rd grade and D in 8th.</div>
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Our sophmores A and M.</div>
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New schedules.</div>
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New friends.</div>
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New classes and challenges.</div>
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I think everyone is ready for some "new."</div>
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I know I am.</div>
Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-39501503343991712142015-08-27T14:50:00.001-04:002015-08-28T14:51:07.080-04:00Lyrics <br />
Song lyrics mean a lot to me. When I was in high school and college I was a big doodler (I still am actually). When I was really bored in class, I would fill notebook pages of song lyric excerpts. Sometimes I'd have a theme. In college, they tended to be romantic in nature and in my heart I was writing these little messages to K. Since the accident, song lyrics have often been the catalyst for a good session of grief tears. Words are important to me. I've always been an avid reader and drawn to those books that have an author who takes care over their words. The kind where I'll re-read a section or paragraph to savor each sentence.<br />
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I also like to talk to people. I'm not sure if I'm a total extrovert, because I do need my alone time during the day, but I like to chat with the checkout guys at Target or ask another parent on the sideline how their kids are doing. I like to share my thoughts with good friends and get the good feelings from telling a funny story and getting another person's laughter.<br />
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Words. Sharing. Connecting.<br />
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********************<br />
<br />
I guess that's part of why I've been struggling so much lately. I don't feel like sharing as much. I'm not <em>really</em> talking to the person/people that I really need to be sharing with. Issues with CA, my other sisters, parents and in-laws have stayed bottled up inside. Logistics, benign pleasantries, FB posts, etc. are what I'm mustering. I'm okay mostly when I'm in mom mode. I've been working hard to be normal mom/Aunt Peg for the kids.<br />
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Mostly not having the guts to tell K exactly how I'm feeling. Worried how he'll react or what he'll say? Worried how I'll deliver the words? Sometimes just not having the energy to muster up the courage to confess how lost I feel. <br />
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********************<br />
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This afternoon, I was driving back from dropping A off at school to catch the bus for cross country and one of my favorite Vance Joy songs came on, Best That I Can.<br />
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<em>I'm sick of leaving things half done</em><br />
<em>things half said</em><br />
<em>I am, I am trying</em><br />
<em>the best that I can</em><br />
<em>I am, I am trying</em><br />
<em></em><br />
I suddenly thought of myself scribbling these words out in a notebook. As I sang them, I thought of all my responsibilities and how overwhelming it has become knowing all I have to do and can't get done. I'm tired of falling asleep quietly next to someone wanting to talk and connect and instead rolling over and willing sleep to come. Or waking up in the morning with awful feelings of anxiety and instead of telling him how I feel, I silently crawl out of bed and begrudgingly start the day.<br />
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*********************<br />
<br />
My words to my husband that I'm not saying...<br />
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<em>I love you.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>I need you to be a teammate in all this not just another person I have to manage.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>I am drowning in the day to day demands of work and kids.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>I need to you to love me and sometimes put me first. </em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>I need romance and need to feel wanted.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>I am trying the best that I can.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>I am, I am trying.</em><br />
<br />Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-31575892312050398642015-08-25T16:56:00.001-04:002015-08-25T18:06:33.713-04:00End of SummerThis is our last week of summer vacation. We moved E into her apartment last weekend. The kids are definitely relishing in the last few days of freedom. Still procrastinating a bit on summer work (although overall in much better shape than last year). Sleeping in and staying up a bit later. Practices are ramping up with A starting cross country, M doing both varsity soccer and playing for her club team, and both D and L on their respective travel soccer teams...oh yeah and L plays baseball but has only been to a few clinics.<br />
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As a family, I think we've had a good summer. The kids had a good balance of free time, day trips and one pretty awesome family trip (I am so missing AZ). We've had lots of laughs. Time with family on both sides including cousin trips to the pool, sleepovers, an epic lip sync battle, and women's world cup victories to celebrate. <br />
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E being home was mostly good. She and M fight a lot still and her early morning swimming makes her grumpy and irritable. Fortunately, she stopped the morning practices for the last several weeks and that helped tons. Better sleep is always good for her mood and it effects everyone in the house.<br />
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Sedona was the highlight of my summer. The rest of the summer has been punctuated by what I can only describe as feelings of stress, disconnection and being lost. I'm struggling to focus at work. I'm trying to keep things going with the kids and the household. Hopeless isn't exactly the right word, but I wonder sometimes how much longer I can keep up with all that I'm responsible for and not be buried by it. On most days, staying positive and remembering to be grateful is just too much effort. <br />
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I'm hoping the new school year will bring back some structure to my days. I'm hoping this brings me more peace and energy. At minimum, I'll have some more hours during the day of time to myself.<br />
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A few glimpses at this summer...<br />
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The summer started with a cousin baseball championship.</div>
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A snake at a skate park is heaven for A.</div>
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Nobody makes M laugh like Uncle K.</div>
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D won a big soccer tourney on father's day.</div>
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The WWC games were a highlight of the summer.</div>
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A won lots of free stuff this summer skateboarding.</div>
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D loves to herp just like his big brother.</div>
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Best friends.</div>
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Working together on a rainy summer day.</div>
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E and A remain close and get along so well.</div>
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Our boys at the trailhead.</div>
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L swimming at our pool with the little sisters/cousins.</div>
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Me and M.</div>
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Little L got his skate on lots this summer too.</div>
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Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-88010432718501411962015-08-10T16:42:00.000-04:002015-08-10T16:42:10.919-04:00VortexesA few weeks back we brought the kids to a family trip to Sedona, AZ. As some of you may know, Sedona is an area with lots of vortex activity. Vortexes are "spiritual energy whirlpools" and are know for healing, great meditation spots, and overall spiritual transcendence. Our house, in particular, was advertised as having strong vortex spots.<br />
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I don't really believe in any of that, but I was in such a bad spot emotionally going into the trip that I was game for any sort of relief from the constant feelings of anxiety and stress.<br />
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Best. Vacation. Ever.<br />
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We hiked about 25 miles over 8 different trails. Each of them were different and amazing. We hit the Grand Canyon. Cliff jumps and natural water slides were taken on. We ate well. We skateboarded and golfed. Our house was wonderful. K was so happy and relaxed.</div>
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Coming back to reality has been hard. Work is especially stressful right now and as we rush towards the school year start my anxiety has once again hit full force.</div>
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When things have been really bad, I've been trying to close my eyes and think about Sedona. Imagine the vortexes healing my stress and pain. Remember how much fun we had as a family. Remember how good I felt getting wonderful daily exercise and only having to focus on where my next footstep was going for large chunks of the day.</div>
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Not sure if we have any vortexes around here, but having these great memories is healing in it's own way.Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-3041127278187462842015-07-14T19:05:00.002-04:002015-07-14T19:05:58.566-04:00DisconnectedAs I sat in my therapists office Monday the only way I could describe the way I'm feeling is disconnected.<br />
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I haven't felt like writing.<br />
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I have stopped texting with friends. Two friends who I've had an ongoing group chat have gotten kind of annoying about my absence which is only making me want to ignore them more.<br />
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I've been trying really hard to focus on the kids and make sure they don't notice the difference. Not sure how successful I've been.<br />
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We went to the beach with K's family and for multiple reasons I spent the entire week fighting overwhelming feelings of anxiety and annoyance. I woke up most mornings just wanting to go home. Which I did at the last minute Friday night and, as I drove off island facing a late night of driving, it was the best I'd felt all week.<br />
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I feel disconnected from K. That makes me unbelievably sad.<br />
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I don't feel like myself.<br />
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As we tried to troubleshoot why I'm feeling this way, the only thing I could pinpoint was that I am unbelievably tired emotionally, mentally, and physically. <br />
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I was thinking this morning that when we adopted the girls I didn't take any time off. I continued to work. I kept up with all the kids activities. My mom duties around the house were the same. Only now we added two traumatized children (one with special needs). This is in stark contract to the 3-4 months I took off for all of the boys' births.<br />
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As I tried to establish the new normal for our family, I was determined to move forward without skipping a beat. I've definitely documented in this space how hard that has been.<br />
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I'm sensing a new shift in our family too. D especially is sliding into puberty and getting more disgruntled by the girls. Even A is starting to verbalize his frustration with E and M and how they are so disruptive to our family dynamic. E being home this summer has not been easy. Lately there has been renewed talk about dying and the little girls and how the decision came about. It's hard to navigate. It's part of the parenting gig that is especially draining for me. Probably because it triggers my own grief and trauma.<br />
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Problem is that now after 5 years of this most people think that we are all totally adjusted and it's a breeze now. I get kids to activities, dinners are made, parties thrown, work done (mostly), appointments are made, school stuff organized, hugs given, and somewhere in all of that I've gotten lost. I've lost weight and nobody seems to notice. I get shingles and was told by everyone I need to slow down and take care of myself. How? There is nobody to pick up the slack. I need to work for our family financially. I love how active our kids are and how many cool interests they have, and that requires a lot of time and effort.<br />
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Not sure how to get back to feeling better this time. My therapist and I talked about figuring out some strategies when we meet next (taking the kids to AZ next week so it will be a few weeks till we meet). Some things have brought me some measure of joy...the spectacular World Cup win by the US women (I'm friends with the coach and can't wait to see her at a wedding in two weeks), watching A skate awesome, laughter between the kids at dinner time, cuddles with L, and escaping with my book for a few minutes at night. None of these things, though, have squashed the feelings of being overwhelmed. Sad. Alone. Worried.<br />
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I'm not sure why I had the urge to write tonight. A first step to getting a grip on things and feeling better? Not sure, but hoping it helps.<br />
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Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-71286663813079273972015-06-09T23:21:00.000-04:002015-06-09T23:21:19.430-04:00My DayMonday, 11:45pm. Fall asleep while reading good book after long day of solo duty while K is in Pittsburgh for charity golf event with his dad and brothers.<br />
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Tuesday, 1:05am. Wake up to K coming home from trip.<br />
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1:06-3:40am. Toss and turn trying to get back to sleep while mind races about all the things we have going on this week. Try to remember if I pulled out uniform socks for L. Make mental note that I have to remember to pick up M's prescription and have it filled. Think about how I'm going to find time to make dinner tomorrow. Brainstorm how I'm going to get D to soccer practice and L to baseball warm-ups at two different fields at basically the same time. Finally fall asleep and realize what time it is because I hear E get up to go swimming.<br />
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6:34am. Alarm goes off. Wake up A and M. Go downstairs and make them breakfast. <br />
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6:45am. Wake D up and remind him that his dad is bringing them to school so he needs to not take a 45 minute shower since I won't be there to remind him to get out. Walk downstairs with L who was already awake and talking to himself in his bed. Make breakfast for L and D and make sure lunches and snack for L are in their backpacks. Remind L that Daddy is bringing them to school and to make sure that if Daddy isn't down by the time the Kratt Brothers is on tv to go upstairs and wake him up.<br />
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7:00am. Remind K that he's bringing the little boys to school because I have to do the big guys.<br />
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7:05am. Drive big kids to school for the first day of exams. Reassure M that she is going to do fine on her exam and listen to A plan for all of the skating and herping he wants to do next week once school is done.<br />
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7:40am. Return home and see that K and the boys haven't left yet. As I pull into the garage see D sprinting out to his dad's car with a notebook in his hand (he is notorious for having to run back in to grab something). Hope they make it to school on time.<br />
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7:45am. Decide that if I'm to survive the day I better go back to bed and catch a few winks.<br />
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8:45am. Wake up and make a cup of coffee and two frozen waffles for breakfast. Watch a few minutes of morning tv while I eat and at the same time check emails both personal and work.<br />
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9:15-10:45am. Do a bunch of random yet pressing things. Answer some work emails. Do some actual work. Answer texts about M's soccer team with 3 different people including the coach (tryout time is never fun). Check with pediatrician and make sure M's prescription is ready (her ADHD med is controlled so I have to pick up paper prescriptions). Talk with little sister S about termites in her house (ick).<br />
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10:45am. Shower and figure out how D and L are going to get to their sports later. <br />
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11:00am. Drive to pediatrician and pick up prescription. <br />
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11:10am. Drive to store to fill it and pick up a few things I forgot to get the day before, including our contribution to the 8th grade graduation party this week. While in the store, field email questions from K about possible summer basketball for D.<br />
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11:40am. Pick up A and M from school. Listen to them talk about how hard and easy their tests were. Celebrate with M that algebra is finally over.<br />
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Noon. Get home. Call Coach Uncle DG (C's husband) and arrange for me to drop him off at their house on the way to D's practice so L will be at early baseball warm-ups on time. Listen to DG talk about little league drama. Make lunch and try to look at FB for a few minutes to zone out. <br />
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12:30-3:30pm. Attempt to get work done with A, M and E constantly interrupting me about relatively trivial matters. During this time also field texts and phone calls from K, S and C about various things including how much termites suck.<br />
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3:30pm. Little boys arrive home from school. Make sure L and D both have the appropriate uniforms for the rest of their day. Make chicken fajitas and all the fixings while simultaneously making sure D and L get dressed, eat and have full water bottles.<br />
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4:05pm. Go upstairs and give M detailed instructions about when she'll be picked up for soccer practice and logistics for after practice to walk over to baseball game (thank God they are at relatively the same time and same park). Repeat myself 3 times to make sure she understands and heard me.<br />
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4:15pm. Leave home with all equipment (soccer and baseball) in the car.<br />
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4:30pm. Drop L off at cousins' to catch ride to game.<br />
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4:50pm. Drop D off at his practice. Text friend who is bringing him home and confirm that she is in fact grabbing him for us. Thank her profusely.<br />
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5:30ish pm. Arrive at baseball game and set up in bleachers hoping to relax for a few minutes. Instead have ear talked off by obnoxious baseball dad whose kid is much older than L and not very nice to him. Nod to annoying dad and try to be nice.<br />
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6:35pm. Game starts 35 minutes late because umps don't show up. L hits a triple as lead off hitter and scores a run. Hoping this bodes well for the evening.<br />
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6:40pm. Field texts from kind friend picking up D who doesn't see him. Text and call a bunch of moms who should be at the field to tell D where she is. Offer friend up one of my kidneys for offering to pick D up and have to sit around for him when he doesn't get off the field on time.<br />
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6:45-8:45pm. Watch L's baseball team win the semifinal game against the Miami Hurricanes only to have L throw two massive temper tantrums after he had one of his hits caught and struck out for his next at bat. Get down from bleachers 3 times to walk to the dugout to tell my 8 year old that there is no crying (unless you are legitimately hurt) or bat slamming in baseball.<br />
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8:45pm. Drive home with tired and grumpy L who completely forgot about his triple and scored run and only focused on how so and so got a game ball for the third time and he never gets one even though he makes tons of great hits, blah, blah, blah. <br />
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9pm. Get home and help L get something to eat, shower and get to bed. Realize there is nothing left from dinner for me to eat. During these activities ask L if this bad attitude is the kind of boy he wants to be. Listen to 8 year old tell me yes this is exactly the boy he wants to be and he's never going to change all the while scowling at me.<br />
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9:20pm Finally get L in bed and wrestle a few smiles out of him. Promise him tomorrow will be a better day. Sit on his bed for a few minutes and rub his back, kissing his head and telling him how much I love him even when he isn't the best of sports.<br />
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9:25. Talk a few minutes with A about the next day plans and tell him about the baseball game. Go back into little boys' room and convince D to get to bed and field more questions about baseball game. <br />
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9:40pm. Finally go downstairs with all kids relatively settled to clean up dinner dishes.<br />
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10:00pm. Grab a diet coke, box of vanilla wafers and my laptop and attempt to record my day on the blog despite the fact that I still have lunches to make and laundry to fold.<br />
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Woven throughout the day are feelings of stress, sadness, worry, loneliness, and frustration.<br />
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And this was a relatively easy day.<br />
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Looks like tomorrow is much more of the same. Lovely.<br />
Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5879690231462568727.post-19379292468214591252015-05-07T11:55:00.001-04:002015-05-07T12:54:56.000-04:00Be Still<div class="verse">
<em>Be still,<br /> Close your eyes,<br /> Soon enough you'll be on your own,<br /> Steady and straight,<br /> And if they drag you through the mud,<br /> It doesn't change what's in your blood,<br /> (Over chains)<br /> Over chains,<br /> When they knock you down,</em><br />
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<em>Don't break character,<br /> You've got a lot of heart,<br /> Is this real or just a dream,<br /> Be still,<br /> Be still,<br /> Be still,<br /> Be still,</em><br />
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<em>Over rock and chain,<br /> Over sunset plain,<br /> Over trap and snare,<br /> When you're in too deep,<br /> In your wildness dream,<br /> In your made up schemes,<br /> When they knock you down,<br /> When they knock you down,</em><br />
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<em>Don't break character,<br /> You've got so much heart,<br /> Is this real or just a dream.<br /> Oh rise up like the sun and labor till the work is done,<br /> Rise up like the sun and labor till the work is,<br /> Rise up like the sun and labor till the work is done.</em></div>
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-Be Still, The Killers</div>
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I'm sitting in my cubicle at work. This song just came on. Tears building in my eyes. I feel so lost and tired and sad and sick of all the responsibility on my shoulders.</div>
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People ask me all the time how I am.</div>
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"Fine," I say. Sometimes with a fake smile. Most of the times I avoid eye contract to keep them from seeing the lies behind the words.</div>
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I've been having stomach issues the last month. While deep down I think it's stress, I finally went to the doctor last week. The same doctor who prescribed me with antidepressants two years ago. I tried to describe how I've been feeling without crying as she looked at me with such sympathetic eyes it made me want to collapse into tears. I said multiple times that I'm not very good at self care. I felt more and more embarrassed about why I was there and not because of the symptoms. As we discussed the lovely topic of diarrhea, she finally asked, "How are the kids?"</div>
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I explained how they are all fine, great in fact. Everyone is healthy and happy. Doing all that they are supposed to be doing. Her whole demeanor changed after that. It was like the litmus test for how well I'm doing is based on the kids. "Oh well that's good!" was her response. I felt minimized. Silly for complaining when I've got such great kids who are thriving.</div>
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I started thinking about the book "The Giving Tree." This book always makes me cry. The tree keeps giving and giving till there is nothing left. A stump. A stump that the boy sits on in the end. The problem is that I don't want to be a stump. I don't keep on giving and giving happily and with joy like the tree in the story. I'm grumpy. I get short with the kids and my husband irrationally. My mind races in the middle of the night worried about what I'm not doing. I get shingles. I have an upset stomach for over a month. </div>
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Thinking about my inability to handle all that I have been given in this life makes me feel really sad. Alone. Pathetic.</div>
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Not sure where I'm going with this post other than to acknowledge to myself that things aren't fine. </div>
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I'm trying to be still. </div>
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Find joy. </div>
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It's just hard right now for some reason. </div>
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Peghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162890081910497200noreply@blogger.com6