Posts Tagged ‘grief’

paul’s beloved grandpa jack and many others who have so bravely and selflessly served.

i’m goina go out on a limb here and just say it flat out… i’m struggling. BIG TIME. the aftermath of loss, grieving, shock, denial, confusion… it’s sent my anxiety through the goddamn roof.

i want so badly to continue on with my life here. i was hoping to get some sense of normalcy once coming home and getting back into a routine with the magoo. instead, i find myself experiencing multiple panic attacks a day and battling insomnia.

i know healing takes time. i’ve grieved before.

but i have never grieved as a parent before.

and grieving the loss of a child, an 18 year old girl, has hit me like a brick wall. i did not just grieve for my former roommate last week when we buried her sister. i did not just grieve as a friend.

i grieved with her mother, for her mother… because now i am a mother.

certain parts of the beautiful eulogy from the memorial service resonated with me differently than it did with others who are not yet parents. and certain parts of her death have been more difficult to accept because i am a parent.

i read a post a few days ago from heather armstrong of dooce.com and found myself nodding my head because as she described her panic attack, i knew EXACTLY what she was talking about.

i experienced it just this morning. the shortness of breath, the tingling limbs, wondering if i go to the ER or not. and it sucks. i don’t want to be feeling the way that i’m feeling right now. i would love to close my mind off to certain things and not think about other things and watch tv at night with paul and just enjoy a show without my mind racing a million miles a minute. i would love to sleep.

but i’m struggling right now. so i’m going to my doctor in 2 weeks and figuring out how to start climbing this hurdle.

and today, i’m going to get a massage.

crap. i owe this blog a serious update of massive proportions.

but it’s not going to happen today. i’d like for it to happen today, but i just don’t have it in me.

after 2 weeks of being gone and sleeping in more locations than i can remember, crying way more than an obscene amount, and then returning home… i find myself depleted in every way.

this last week has sucked in ways that have taken a toll on me mentally, emotionally and physically. i wasn’t prepared for any of this, but neither was my dear college roommate, em, who lost her sister at 18 and is now being the rock for her grieving family to rest on.

em- i love you so much and i am always here for you.

**********

so yeah, the holiday was good. jackson was spoiled rotten. his loot of gifts had to be shipped back home because there was too much to fit in our luggage.

paul and my father-in-law taught me how to shoot a gun, which i swore to myself i would never do. i’ll most likely never do it again, but had my own reasons for learning and accomplished my goal. hell, i even shot a tin bowling pin target thingy down. entirely by accident… but still.

the holiday is kind of this whirlwind that’s in the back of my mind.

did it really happen?

holidays with a child who has both sets of grandparents in the same city is both a blessing and a curse. you (the primary caregiver) bring your “work” with you over the holidays and it’s never as relaxing as you may have hoped. at least it’s not for me. it was wonderful to have 4 loving grandparents and 2 uncles to occupy jackson, babysit and dote on him for two solid weeks. however, now i am at home with a tantrum-driven, (nearly) 21 month old who has been given everything he has asked for… and sometimes i say “no.”

so between the crocodile tears and pretzel throwing and door banging, i wonder where the hell the holiday went.

and new years… when did it become 2010?

new years eve was spent with one of my six former roommates on night-duty over em and her parents after we buried her sister that morning.

i’ll never forget rubbing em’s mom’s feet with vick’s vapo-rub and placing warm socks on her in an attempt to get her to relax enough to sleep a few hours.

i’ll never forget it because i was exactly where i was supposed to be.

em- i love you so much and i’m always here for you.

**********

i have a ton of family pictures to share. a lot of great stories. but for now this post will have to do, because i really need a nap.

ps- thanks to all of you who have sent such loving comments, facebook messages, tweets and emails. the comments on each of my posts close after 5 days, so for those of you who emailed me because you couldn’t comment the last few days, i thank you for your persistence and kindness.

“He’s so big,” I said to Paul, exhausted and exasperated at the same time.

“I know,” he responded and wrapped me in a bear hug.

“I just needed to hold him,” I said through tears, as though my actions needed justification.

No response. He understood.

**********

On this evening when I heard of yet another tragedy that has taken place within the blogging community, I found myself in Jackson’s room. I picked him up like a rag doll and held him on my shoulder as though he were 19 weeks instead of 19 months old.

I needed the smell… a wet diaper… baby sweat from being nugged up in the corner of his crib under a flannel blanket… his murmurs.

He needs me.

But tonight I needed him.

**********

He’s so long now. Like, soooooo long. I have to recline our glider in order for fully lay him out on me when he lays on my chest and sleeps. Our breathing falls into rhythm with one another.

I envy how relaxed he is and yet it makes me happy at the same time. So peaceful, content.

**********

After putting our son back down in his crib for the night, I enter our bedroom and talk to Paul about all of the thoughts running through my mind… 2009 just needs to end… there has been so much loss… etc, etc...

While still listening to me, Paul reaches up to our ceiling fan and pulls off a piece of plastic from the chain that hangs from it.

I look at him oddly, wondering if he’s heard a word I just said.

“This is what we need for the chain that broke off the light in the pantry,” he says, plastic prize in hand.

I stop my train of thought entirely, look at him, point at the ceiling fan and say, “That… right there… that thing you just did… that was Jack.”

**********

Paul’s Grandpa Jack was buried in Arlington National Cemetary just a little over 1 month ago.

Life does go on… a menial ceiling fan chain was proof positive of that to me tonight.

Pain is real. Grief is real. Carrying on the memory of a loved one is real.

you have your great grandfather’s iron will.

you have your grandfather’s focus.

you have your father’s sensitivity.

****

you have your great grandfather’s first name.

you have your grandfather’s patience.

you have your father’s strength.

****

curious. quiet. wise.

intricate. tinkerer. adaptable.

handsome. tough. sweet.

capable. stubborn. willing.

****

you have your great grandfather’s stories to learn… from your grandfather… from your daddy.

you will know them all. you will love them all.

and one day you too will pass them on.

****

rest in peace, grandpa jack.

feels like yesterday. you were taken from us… too soon.

we’ve sent up balloons to you for 17 years.

messages scrawled on the balloons in marker.

“love you forever… missing you always… we love you poppy.”

jackson scribbled on the balloons this year. his own love note to his namesake… to you.

your “lynnie-babe” now “grammy” sending you love with her grandson.

she teaches jackson about you… her father. jackson will know who he is named after.

we love you poppy. we’ve missed you… for 17 years.

my grandfather died almost 17 years ago (this coming september).  i was 11 years old… my brother was 7.  my parents were devastated.  our hearts were shattered.  poppy died of a massive heart attack while playing golf with my gramma in lake tahoe.  the med examiners said the heart attack hit so hard that he was gone before he even hit the ground.

what a way to go, right?

i mean, now i can look back with 17 years of perspective and say that…  what a way to go.  and honestly, of all the ways a person can die, that’s pretty remarkable.  while i think that, i also think about the strength and bravery my gramma was called to summon within herself to perform CPR on her husband (who was 60 years old) until EMS arrived, hoping, praying, wishing that this wasn’t it.

the magoo’s middle name, ray, comes from poppy.  our precious jackson ray…  his first name honors paul’s grandpa jack, still alive, though ailing and in need of much healing after a stroke… jackson’s middle name honors my poppy whose middle name was raymond.  

first beach experience. attire included pjs and crocs.

being at poppy’s beach (indian rocks beach, florida) always brings a smile to my face.  the smell…  the sand…  the ocean…  and it’s not just like any other florida beach.  indian rocks is where poppy taught me how to fish… how to drive a boat…  and how to wash my hair in an outdoor shower using a bar of soap instead of shampoo.  

the pizza shop we frequent when we’re here knows us all by name… nick shut down his shop on the day of poppy’s funeral.  never before had it been closed like that, not even for a holiday.  i’ll never forget seeing him sobbing for the loss of his friend.

and so being here, this week, is amazing for me…  because life has truly come full-circle.  my 3 cousins arrived, 1 of whom has a 17 month old little boy who is spectacular and will make great friends with jackson in the days ahead.  

 

there is joy here at poppy’s beach.  pure joy.  there are incredible memories…  hysterical stories… and monumental firsts…

 

i feel safe here.  i feel at home here.  i feel loved here.  and now i’m here with my own family…  and it is awesome.