yes, i really did number 22

Last weeks writing prompt with Mama Kat's writer's workshop was to write a list of the 22 THINGS I had done. This week I can take one of those things and elaborate. The choice was easy, because I really did # 22 and a few people commented on it!


Here's what they said.

ARIANA said, "now # 22 is just crazy!!!" in her comment. An my friend MARK said in his "#22!" " Seriously?" " Were you strapped in?" "That's craziness!!!"

Let me explain since not only am I not crazy, I am actually the most normal person I know. I plead tired step-mother with a touch I didn't have a clue! What to know what #22 is, read on?!

You see I married young and my husband had three little kids, they lived with him so I became an instant Mom, I was barely 22 at the time.  Full of myself I jumped in head on into the step-mom thing. Some people might think that's crazy but that's not #22, continue reading.


When their Mom picked them up it was alone time for my husband. After all most married couples get years of privacy before kids but not us, alone time was weekends only.

So here's the story, we had only been married for a few months but on this particular weekend we decided to get away.  I cuddled up next to my husbands warm body while he was driving and fell asleep, it was a short distance to our destination but I went out like a light. I should say at this point I am not normally a napper.

A few months later on weekend afternoon after a romantic encounter hubby came back into the bedroom and sat on the bed eating a cold piece of pizza and drinking a beer. Being a big lover of pizza and beer I was rather surprised when I felt a rather strong urge to jump out of the bed, run to the bathroom and throw up. Dizzy and in a cold sweat I sat on the camode and just knew that I was pregnant.  Then the light went on for the reason my lights went out and I....  fell asleep on the back of a motorcycle.# 22

I received one more comment about #22, it was from JACKIE and she asked, "Oh my goodness, how do you fall asleep on the back of a motorcycle?" 

My answer to her would be; I was at the time an exhausted step-mother who didn't have a clue she was pregnant, and apparently that meant I could sleep anywhere; even on a motorcycle!

where's jen today? i know; she's doing a guest post!

I was so excited to open my e-mail the other day and find an invitation to do a guest post; my first ever!

If you want to know where and what I'm writing about today I'm happy to tell. I'm writing about my experience being an empty nester.

Want to know what life is like for a Mom after the kids leave the nest? Come visit and say hi to Terri a stay at home mother of four and my lovely host at mom's point of view and find out.  Don't forget to leave a comment and show us some love.

My post will be featured all day today Monday, September 26, 2011. And if by chance you miss reading it today, you can read it by clicking here.

Just click on Terri's blog button or her blog's name (which is in blue) and visit!

if you want to get drunk- get a sitter or get a mug shot - look and see

The beauty below in the mug shot is my former daughter in law, she it seems decided to go out and get plastered and left our granddaughter 10 years old and her little sister 2 years old (that would be the child she had by another man while still married to my step son) home alone until 1:45 am bar hopping with friends.

The police found the kids alone then later found her unconscious in a neighbors apartment, douche-bag! She was charged with two counts of contributing of the delinquency of a minor. I would not be lying to say I dislike this women, she is nothing but trouble always has been, now her stock just crashed not that it could have possibly have gotten any lower.

this is a mug shot of my former daughter in law
she's a beauty isn't she?

My granddaughter called her father to say she was frightened (if you read this blog regularly you know i never mention him- there is a reason) he's a moocher who doesn't work and lives off the kindness of others and he wouldn't know the truth if it bit him in the ass. Pretty much makes it impossible to have a relationship with him since he doesn't have respect for boundaries;  he doesn't understand the concept and thus has none. He's no youngster nor is she they are both over 30.

So where was he you ask when she called him? On vacation in California. For what you might wonder since he doesn't work? I for one would love to know. He has two living siblings they work, they get vacations, that makes sense to me. He doesn't nor does this behavior.

So lets guess what he did and if the welfare of the kids is important to him?

Option one-  he answered the phone when the child called and came right home like any normal parent would do to protect and comfort his child and her little sister.

Option two- stayed in California and delegated his parenting responsibilities, put his beach pictures on Facebook not cutting his vacation short at all.

Bingo and the winner is Option two you won  the..."you can smell a crappy parent 2600 miles away" prize.  Bravo!

He did however lift one more finger and call his ex-mother in law to take care of them. Didn't call us, no chance in hell of that, because if he would have we would have blasted him for not coming home, being responsible putting the children's needs first.

Privacy laws are making it hard for us to get information other than the kids are fine and the police let the mother in law take the kids that night. But we found out she apparently was told by my step son to turn them over to some friends of his. Who knows if the authorities know of that arrangement. We do feel better however now that the police and CPS have a case; FINALLY and hopefully once this thing gets into court maybe a judge will make them answer for their behavior. God knows we've tried and failed more times than I care to admit.

These two have been a nightmare for our whole family since the day they've met; and he to a lesser degree before that.

And the children every time I think of them and the lives they've had at the hands of these two my heart just breaks. Because when it comes down to it their lives are the real nightmare and we're just the spectators.

Some people just shouldn't be allowed to have kids, ya know!

could you imagine a mommy limit?

My daughter Heather and I were chatting on the phone today, firming up arrangements for the family get together's planned for this Thursday and into the holiday weekend; confirming when her brothers off, when my brother and family arrives and when my husbands ex gets into town with her little niece Jess. You see the day is fast approaching, the five year anniversary of Gretchen and Eric's death. July 3rd is the day.


Anyway during our phone conversation Heather told me her little cousin is going to stay with her and her hubby for five weeks. The child is a cute little fifth grader and is being raised by a disinterested mother, my husbands exes sister. The little girl text-ed her today to tell her how happy she was to come' live' with her. The use of the word live instead of visit or vacation sent up a bit of a caution signal to my daughter. Lets face it, there's a difference between visiting and living so my daughter naturally followed up.Wanting to make sure the child knew that there was an end date to the arrangement, that she would be returning home in time for school to start.

My daughter and her husband are wonderful and loving parents to my three grandsons, they have a lovely home which is "that home". All the kids in their community are always welcome and tend to gather there to play because it is so welcoming and comfortable.

She made sure the child understood that it was a visit and they talked about some of the fun things we had planned for this weekend and beyond. Then as mothers do she said to the child." after all Jess you'll miss your Mommy and be ready to go home after five weeks won't you?" To my daughters dismay the child replied quickly "no not really I've lived with her long enough."

And with the shadow of my loss looming ever so much closer I can't help but reflect on what type of mother I was to my children when they were little and who I am to them now that they have grown. And  in all the days since Gretchen and Eric have passed and in the days to come not only will keep those memories close but I will continue to honor my children who are still with me in the hope that they will honor me.

Maybe I've just lived a sheltered life. I cannot in my wildest dreams ever imagine those words passing a child's lips; any child's lips. Little girls that age are supposed to have such a special connection with their mommies, they not only want to be with them, they want to be them.  How is it that a small child could have reached her mommy limit; is there such a thing as a mommy limit for a child?

Could you ever imagine your child saying such a thing?

solace

My community is a small one; it is not uncommon for young and old alike to know one another or at least know of one another. My son Eric's second grade teacher and her husband are our friends, my daughter Gretchen even baby sat their children. Her husband’s parents are lovely people; they of my parents’ generation and are the quintessential southern couple. He the gentleman farmer, she the devoted mother-grandmother and both are born and bred in this community. They also have another son and although I had only met him once years ago before he moved away, when he passed away tragically from cancer; my husband and I knew we would go to the funeral.

I must admit I had some concerns that I wouldn't have been strong enough to deal with other grieving parents. I was worried I was too weak to be in the presence of their pain without getting lost in my own; after all this was my first funeral since my own children's some months earlier.

Upon entering their church their son greeted me with a hug so hard he almost crushed my ribs. I think it was when I looked into his eyes and saw just how vulnerable he truly was I knew I would be OK, that I was stronger than I had originally thought. He then said to me, "It will mean so much to Momma that you came today especially considering;" and his words hung but their meaning was clearly understood to me.

Then he guided me through the throngs of people that were crowded around his mother. She stilled for a moment; it was almost as if she sensed my presence, raising her head tears filling our eyes as our gazes met. I stepped closer and we embraced for a moment as I spoke words of comfort to her. Pain and sorrow were etched deep into the expression on her face. Then in a quiet voice almost a whisper cracking with emotion she said to me “I expect we'll be talking soon" and without a thought I nodded my head in agreement to her statement.

I expect we'll be talking soon - powerful words of acknowledgement of a connection that transcended any generational differences, which transcended the fact that she is a southern woman and I am a woman of the north and it transcended the manner in which our children perished.

With those words we recognize our mutual need for the depth of empathy and understanding that comes only from another mother who is grieving.

on mothers day-my mom in pictures

Here is my fabulous Mom 

ah-choo

Today the mold and grass pollen count was thru the roof here in my area and although I don't usually have allergies, I woke up sneezing and by lunch time I was well into a box of tissues and searching my medicine chest  for some type of over the counter medication for my poor runny nose, it was getting sore!

But in any case it reminded me of a cute story about my son M, he was seven years old when this happened......

Eric on left & M on right
my aunt P & uncle R's dog summer

When we lived in NY both my younger boys had allergies and were taking regular allergy shots. When we relocated down here to Virginia we arranged to have their doctor send the ampules to us so that we could get their shots at the medical office here in town; this way they could complete their final year of treatment.

M- our seven year old at the same time was told  by our dentist that his front teeth were very buck and although usually to young for braces we should consider them anyway so he didn't break or damage his teeth. So I made an appointment with an orthodontist up in town; his name was Dr K. He agreed that although M didn't have enough teeth for full braces at seven years of age he was in danger of damaging his teeth. He decided he needed to have his front top four teeth put in braces for safety sake, then he proceeded to take a mold. When all was done M and I got in the car and we were on our merry way home and he looked up with his hazel eyes and said to me with all seriousness:

 "Mommy" he said, "I think you better bring me to the allergy doctor because I'm going to need an extra shot."

 "Why?"  I replied, not understanding allergy shots had to do with his trip to the orthodontist.

 "But Moommmy" he said, " Dr. K just put a mold in my mouth and I'm allergic to mold, I think I'm gonna need that shot!"

-post card- my journey-my road

I will say this I have received more loving compassion, sympathy and empathy then any one person can ever hope or imagine receiving since the death of the children.

But to truly understand what it is like to travel the road of a mother after the death of a child or in my case two then you must travel it yourself. I will also say that I would not wish this fate on my worst enemy if I actually had one. It is my hope however when I write about my experience I give you a glimpse and a better understanding of what it was like for me. Who knows maybe some day it may be helpful to you- heaven forbid- if you have a friend or a loved who is experiences the death of a child, or maybe your just curious, that's OK too!

I was looking through some pictures and this picture jumped out at me. Most people refer to grief and bereavement as a journey. If I could illustrate to you what the road were to look like- feel like, it would be this picture. The death of the kids put me at a crossroads in my life, it left me never knowing where I was going where my life would take me next.

My road had many pot holes however, it was filled with emotions that at times I found difficult to control and I was plagued with self doubt. I was easily overwhelmed by things that were once natural for me to do and I had great difficulty making even the simplest of decisions.

I stopped dreaming for a long time until my dreams turned rather vivid; they became a window to my subconscious. They believe it or not revealed many things to me which helped me along the road.

I have questions that will never be answered- that is a hard fact to accept. I had difficulty with the changes that the kids death forced upon my life and had problems adjusting to the changes. It is frightening, was depressing and could sometimes be isolating.


Every stage of this experience  was so profound so overwhelming when I was in it until the next stage came hit and then I'd do it all over again. I was hard to imagine that things would ever get better that the barrage of emotions that was ripping me apart internally would ever subside; but it did. Letting go of different issues that arose felt like losing my kids over and over again. It sounds a bit crazy but its true, it goes without saying that trauma made me feel pretty crazy most of the time. 

I have an acquittance who is a Minister whenever I saw him, I would worry aloud about this or that but mostly about that I had't been attending church for a period of time- had questions about my faith. He would say to me "this is your journey- on this road you are never alone don't forget that". He of course was referring to not only to the blessings of my amazing support system of family and friends but to remind me that God was by my side.

I know I will travel this road forever but not alone, until the day that I am reunited with my children. My road is lighter now not at all as dark as it used to be. The pot holes are mostly filled with more positive things like joy and hope and forgiveness and finally I am no longer afraid.... finally.

‘Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you,

 for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, 

surely I will uphold you with My righteous right

 hand.’ Isaiah 41:10

-post card- and then the tears came

Holidays and the kids birthdays can be terribly difficult since their deaths.

Surprisingly enough on my birthday this Sunday I found myself struggling a bit,  here's why.

This is one of the few days when I am truly the center of attention, not the attention giver and thats a hard role for me.

We had a nice dinner out, my mom, my husband, my son-in-law and daughter, the boys and my son. I sat and watched all of the people I love gathered around me and I am reminded of all that I have in my life and I am grateful.  At times like this however I can't help but see the empty seats at the table in my mind and feel their absence in my heart.

 Since the accident I tend to get a bit emotional about these things, here is what my sons card said.....

I love you as a Mom

the wonderful woman

who has done more for me 

than any other person in the world.

I love you as my friend,

someone who understands me, 

takes time to listen, 

 and truly cares about

 how I'm doing.

I love what you made me-

a happy child,

a grateful adult,

and someone who will always

look up to you.

Happy Birthday

and then the tears came.

-post card- a lesson this mother learned

I am a mother of dead children, how exactly does a woman do that; be a parent to children who are no longer alive? I ventured a guess it had a lot to do with what kind of mother I was to my living children.

The timing of accident happened at the point of transition for me. I had two married daughters a married son, grandchildren and a soon to be empty home. My youngest two boys in their early twenties, the one involved in the accident had been in college, living off campus near his college with his brother-in-law and the sister- the one who he died with in the accident. The other son had graduated college was starting a law enforcement career working long hours, hardly ever home- both ready to make the transition themselves to full independence.

What I found out thru a good bit of reflection and yes- therapy was that I had an over exaggerated sense of my own importance in my children's lives, they were adults after all. I didn't need to remind this one of the others birthday or smooth over this or that spat, feel responsible to accommodate get together's "just because" I wanted family togetherness. If the kids were in touch with each other or not that was their own is their business, and they were free to conduct separate relationship free of my involvement or judgement. I was their parent- not the social director-communications director- feeler of all things responsible-my involvement to the extent that it was, was too much.

I could write a list as long as my arm of  those little things I did to accommodate. I am a caretaker by nature the hub of the family- the peacemaker, I think most mothers are. If the people who I care about need me I'm there- that's what I do, but there's another layer to it, why I did it- it fulfilled a need in me.

And that's the rub here of course, when I did all the things I did I told myself it was for them, but under all of it what drove me was this need- this feeling to be involved to stay relevant and to hold on to how it felt to be that mother of children that were actually children. So with that knowledge I transitioned rather painfully I must admit from the mother who was rather enmeshed in her adult children's lives to a concerned mother who was involved but no longer enmeshed.

Even though not the original  purpose for going, the death of my children brought me to the therapy which helped me to grow as a mother.  I gained valuable insight into my relationships with my children. I learned that stepping back, that letting go isn't withholding attention or love but the complete opposite and that lesson applies to my dead children as well as my living ones.

-post card- protect us from all anxiety

In the hours and days following the accident that killed the kids the phone kept on ringing. There were reports that the accident site was a terrible scene, the coroner was away for a holiday so there would be delays releasing their bodies. The accident details were reported on the national news, reporters were calling the house, Fed- Ex was delivering packets from high priced attorneys promising to "represent" us as if somehow money would compensate us for our loss. I had lost all sense of what was normal as my anxiety grew to levels well beyond what any one person should be able to bear.

I've never really given much thought to why the words  that are below are part of the liturgy but my pastor brought it up this week in his homily since the gospel teaching dealt with Jesus teachings on worrying. Many Catholics, myself included tend to listen to those parts of the Mass that have always been- without ever questioning why.

There is a part in the Catholic Mass after the Lords Prayer and before the Sign of Peace where the Priest does a declaration of praise or a doxology if you will; at each and every Mass he says:

 Deliver us, Lord, from every evil, and grant 

us peace in our day. In your mercy in, keep us free from sin,

 and protect us from all anxiety, as we wait in joyful

 hope for coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

It seems in a previous parish my pastor had a parishioner who was a mental health professional who had an issue with part of the prayer ( protect us from all anxiety ) he felt anxiety was necessary even a healthy part of life. I tend to think worry is healthy to a certain degree, anxiety when it reaches levels so great it can't be managed and interferes with your life is just plain unhealthy.

My level of stress and anxiety was off the charts those first days and stayed that way for a long time, this type of stress makes you alert to everything- does something to your brain. The bumps in the night were real to me then, I heard each and every one of them since I hardly ever slept. Its hard to explain the feeling of being intensely afraid but not really knowing what I was afraid of, it is an awful experience. My sense of safety was gone, I was constantly plagued with this feeling that another shoe would drop, that something awful was going to happen to us again. So I waited and waited some more, rarely able to get the rest I needed to function normally.

Once ordinary occurrences like the sight of State Troopers speeding down the Interstate were enough to make my blood run cold until I checked to make sure my children were OK; the vision of their cars lined up in my driveway the morning of the accident seared in my memory forever. A dashboard light on the car had new meaning to me, the slightest threat that anything would place me stranded on the side of the highway, the place my children perished filled me with paralyzing fear.

My life as it was felt horribly wrong to me for a very long time, there was part of me clinging for all I was worth to the past before the accident; as another part of me was at the same time acknowledging  the need to move on, my turmoil was intense.

I think the point I'm trying to make is that prayer takes time, a quiet mind, focus and dedication,  none of which I was capable- due to my anxiety. I would venture to guess that might be why this is included in the Mass. Anxiety can be a barrier to God and it was for me for a time. So if you ever attend a Catholic Mass and wonder if praying to protect a person from anxiety is worthy of your time, take it from me it is.

-post card- I am a grieving mother, what I am not is....

What I write on this blog will be about my experience from my perspective.

I will honestly share my personal experiences to the extent that I am comfortable disclosing them-  I was affected to one degree or another with grief, trauma, panic attacks,  adjustment problems and depression after the kids died in the accident. 

I'm not comfortable quoting nor will I ever show parts of the DSM-IV manual (The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) in this blog, you will never find me purporting to be an expert because I am not one.  I see this on some other blogs regarding all kinds of subjects and frankly it disturbs me. Anyone can Google anything and post it on their blog. I think this kind of information is good and powerful when it is presented in the proper way or by a person who is qualified.

My therapist never once whipped out that DSM-IV, I would have hit him with it. What I needed was to be guided thru my nightmare by a person qualified to do so, I needed reassurance that I'd make it thru to the other side. Did he use the DSM-IV? He's a PhD, I'm sure he did, that's why he got paid the big bucks!

My therapist and I spent long hours working on reducing my symptoms of trauma- difficulty coping with change both by talking thru it and by me writing my thoughts and feelings in a therapy journal.  I worked hard and created a personal awareness of my thinking patterns that were ultimately the cause of a few pretty dark depressive episodes which were keeping me stuck.

We worked on rebuilding my identity making sure that the mother I  am  now after the accident is balanced with who I am as a wife, daughter, sister and friend moving forward.

There were so many layers and  issues that we uncovered that needed to be addressed; my fear, sadness, guilt, anger, questions of faith and yes....... forgiveness for the truck driver that took the life of my children. 

If you'd like to read my story just because it interests you, if you feel you can learn something from it, if what I write helps you,  then I will be gratified. The writing of this blog is necessary part of my continuing healing process, but I am not an expert.

I am grieving mother.

-post card- Grief- is like a sweater

The thing about  blogging is you get to invite  people into you life to whatever extent you feel comfortable; and  in return you get a peek into theirs. I guess it's human nature that we tend to seek out others with the same interests- hobbies, senses of humor, and people who have the endured the same trials in life.


I have read a few blogs since I have started this blog; blogs written by mothers whose children have died. For some their loss is new for others more time has passed. For all the grief unimaginable- unexplainable to those who have not endured it. We all travel this road differently, no two journeys are the same. We are as unique as were our children. But the longing that ache we feel for our children never goes away- this we all share.

Our sadness comes at us in waves like the ocean; our emotions can feel like the most horrible roller coaster ride that one never gets off. I can't help but remember on the day of my children's funeral I spoke to my Godmother, my Aunt Frances on the phone, she was in the hospital quite seriously ill and unable to attend the funeral.  What she said to me I will always remember...

She said "grief is like a sweater some days you wear it and it's so heavy that you can hardly stand it - other days you wear it and you hardly know you have it on". 

Aunt Frances knew loss, one can hardly reach well into their 80's and not be touched by it. She knew that day to lovingly tell me that sweater wasn't ever coming off, that I better make peace with wearing it- forever.

-post card-Connecting with friends and family

Do you know which is the best part of life?? 

It's simple, when your family understands you 

as a friend and your friends support you as a family.

.....author unknown

When I was considering what I was going to write in this post I started to reflect about my group of friends.We have been meeting for years regularly every second Friday of every month for dinner as a group, this Friday will be our night together.

Of course we see each other at different times on other occasions but this is really a treat for us, a chance to catch up as a group. Most times it's in the local restaurant, but sometimes we'll have dinner at our homes. Christmastime at my house, dinners pool side at another gals home, and evenings like this Friday at different friends home,  sharing a meal, with people who you really enjoy being around.

They are a great bunch of  ladies my neighbors- did I mention there are husbands and a few ex's but these dinners are strictly ladies only? What we do varies however we have a few former stay at home mom's- turned empty nester's, teachers, business owners, nurses, women who run at home businesses, most with grown children or -pretty much grown, there are a few little ones too. We have single children, married children with or without their own children, college completed, graduate degree's in the process. Our children  male and female alike are either friends or friendly, many went to school together-passed thru those same halls just at different times, played the same sports, attend each others weddings, two are even room mates.

I think we have the same values, we share the same faith, and we truly enjoy each other- support each other- like a family.

As far as my real family, that would be the noisy mostly Irish might have drank an adult beverage did i say noisy people? We originated in the great state of NY, after three of my four grandparents emigrated to this country and finally settled there. Now we are stretched all over the country over so many states I've actually lost count, but primarily the east coast. I can't stress enough how amazing they are.

People think I'm exaggerating when I talk about the love and warm closeness I have with my brothers, sister-in-laws, their kids, my godchildren, my mom, aunts, uncles, cousins- not to mention my own husband, our children, son in law, and grandkids- who are adorable. Whether it be just those for "no reason times" when we visit each other or holiday's, birthday parties,vacations, christenings, an anniversary, weddings or even those unfortunate and sad times when the family gathers and we lose one or two of our own-  being with each other...I can think of nothing better.

12 ORDINARY THINGS THAT BRING ME JOY

Over Christmas there was a commercial on T.V. in it  a grandpa was so excited because he wanted to see a video of his grandson playing with a toy he had purchased for the child for Christmas. Jump to the video, the toy is sitting there unused and the kid is walking around having the time of his life playing with the box the toy came in over his head .

My kids did that stuff, played with boxes. One of my sons who shall remain nameless- MATTHEW used to make twist-tie-men or tails and bows-n-arrows out of things he found around the house, he played for hours and hour, you'd hardly know he was even there. Of course as his mother I thought it showed his superior intelligence and creativity-it's in the genes after all- ask anyone in the family. My daughter when she got older used to say, " some of those ideas could have been marketed". Smart child too!

It got me to thinking about the little things, every day stuff.........
Extra ordinary- ordinary stuff that we just might appreciate a tiny bit more, they make us smile and bring us joy.
Some come right to my mind for me. What about you?

    Here are a few of mine:

1. twist tie men (only kidding)
2. bitting into my first garden tomato every summer
3. watching my cats play
4. fresh crisp sheets
5. the smell of the beach after it rains
6 .the feel of the sand under my feet, Long Beach preferably
7. the smell of fresh coffee in the morning
8. a good bloody mary
9. a good laugh-till I cry
10. White Christmas' (sorry I live in the south now!)
11. running my hand thru  the buttons in Nana's button box
12. being bare foot