For sure this is an awkward one. How do you "celebrate" someone's birthday that is no longer alive? I guess it really is just taking a moment to remember him. But then I remember and talk about him every day. Last year, one of Eddie's dear friends sent me flowers on Eddie's birthday and said "some birthdays are worth celebrating forever." It was perfect.
This year my kids didn't want to do anything special and I have to admit I felt a little awkward trying to force it. I bought his favorite cake, Coconut, and we had it after dinner. We took a moment to just think about him together and acknowledge what it would have been. Then it was off to living for us living souls.
But always remembering...
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Life is Sweet, Life is Bittersweet
They say life goes on, you find happiness again, you find love again. Perhaps. Yes. True.
Then you are jolted. Someone says that something that just hits you in the heart. It immediately takes you back to "but I don't have my spouse." Or perhaps your kid makes that big play and you look around and you don't have your spouse to smile with, pump your fists with or celebrate later at home with, with your child. There are the never ever ending forms "first parent. second parent." There is someone missing in it all.
I celebrate life and I embrace it. I am happy, my kids are happy. The first year was so hard in the stress of how will the first ____ (holiday) go? You get through that and you think "whew, I made it." But then the next year comes and nobody remembers to call on that anniversary to check on you. Or you realize that some of those feelings and stressors will never go away. Every time you walk in that room, you will continue to feel alone, just less stressed about feeling it.
But the hardest I suppose is that nobody has your back like your spouse. And that is a very hard hole to fill and can cause the most anxiety late at night as you review your day alone and ponder how you did as a parent, a friend, a worker, a child. There just isn't anybody to give you that unconditionally supportive feedback.
Life is sweet but going it alone - bitter too
Then you are jolted. Someone says that something that just hits you in the heart. It immediately takes you back to "but I don't have my spouse." Or perhaps your kid makes that big play and you look around and you don't have your spouse to smile with, pump your fists with or celebrate later at home with, with your child. There are the never ever ending forms "first parent. second parent." There is someone missing in it all.
I celebrate life and I embrace it. I am happy, my kids are happy. The first year was so hard in the stress of how will the first ____ (holiday) go? You get through that and you think "whew, I made it." But then the next year comes and nobody remembers to call on that anniversary to check on you. Or you realize that some of those feelings and stressors will never go away. Every time you walk in that room, you will continue to feel alone, just less stressed about feeling it.
But the hardest I suppose is that nobody has your back like your spouse. And that is a very hard hole to fill and can cause the most anxiety late at night as you review your day alone and ponder how you did as a parent, a friend, a worker, a child. There just isn't anybody to give you that unconditionally supportive feedback.
Life is sweet but going it alone - bitter too
ASK ME
Even almost two years out.... I ask that you ask me.
Ask me what I need. Ask me if it is easier to talk about Eddie, the day he died, our special moments, our trips, our funny moments, our sad moments and our tough moments. They are part of my life and they didn't die with Eddie. Ask me if I need some space to be alone or if I need company. Ask me if this day is still hard. Ask me about Eddie and what memories I might want to talk about. I will tell you what I need.
All that I ask is that you ask me.
Ask me what I need. Ask me if it is easier to talk about Eddie, the day he died, our special moments, our trips, our funny moments, our sad moments and our tough moments. They are part of my life and they didn't die with Eddie. Ask me if I need some space to be alone or if I need company. Ask me if this day is still hard. Ask me about Eddie and what memories I might want to talk about. I will tell you what I need.
All that I ask is that you ask me.
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Signs Still Came
This happened awhile ago but I see I never posted it.
I was in my grief group. The group leaders asked us to go around the room and say something we would say to our spouse if they could hear us. I said "I ask Eddie to please keep showing up to let me know he is around, that he is watching over us and seeing what we are doing. It would give me great comfort."
The group ended shortly thereafter and I walked to my car.
On the way to my group that night I was listening to music through my iPhone on Rhapsody. I was listening to a playlist I had recently made. Songs from a TV show I liked. I got in the car. It often took a few seconds for the iPhone to connect to the radio in the car. I waited as there was a song I wanted to play off that playlist. Instead, a song started playing from the beginning. It was not a song on the playlist whatsoever. It was from my Iphone Itunes library which meant that somehow my phone went out of Rhapsody and into Itunes and selected this one specific song to play.... "Promised Land" by Bruce Springsteen. The very song Eddie said was his "funeral song" and the song we played as his casket was taken out of the funeral.
I can't make these things up... they happened. And I know for sure they are Eddie.
Hugs to all,
Lorin
I was in my grief group. The group leaders asked us to go around the room and say something we would say to our spouse if they could hear us. I said "I ask Eddie to please keep showing up to let me know he is around, that he is watching over us and seeing what we are doing. It would give me great comfort."
The group ended shortly thereafter and I walked to my car.
On the way to my group that night I was listening to music through my iPhone on Rhapsody. I was listening to a playlist I had recently made. Songs from a TV show I liked. I got in the car. It often took a few seconds for the iPhone to connect to the radio in the car. I waited as there was a song I wanted to play off that playlist. Instead, a song started playing from the beginning. It was not a song on the playlist whatsoever. It was from my Iphone Itunes library which meant that somehow my phone went out of Rhapsody and into Itunes and selected this one specific song to play.... "Promised Land" by Bruce Springsteen. The very song Eddie said was his "funeral song" and the song we played as his casket was taken out of the funeral.
I can't make these things up... they happened. And I know for sure they are Eddie.
Hugs to all,
Lorin
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Everywhere you go… There you Are
Today marks the 8th anniversary of Eddie's original seizure and diagnosis. The day my life forever changed, the future much more uncertain than it was the day I married Eddie just 2 1/2 years prior. And 2 days ago marked 1 1/2 years since he died.
It is true what they say - people do move on and get back to their life and you are faced to deal with your new life. But I am so much stronger for having had all these people carry me through the roughest time and I know that they will forever show up in those future times to help me celebrate life and face sorrows. I even find that the "how are you's" don't affect me so awkwardly and am even able to say "good, happy," perhaps with the caveat of "I still miss him but...."
Looking back at the first year, I don't even think I realized the depths of despair I faced each day not only in me but in my kids. Looking at them now, I see sparkles in their eyes, happiness in their activities and with their friends and overall less stress in our home. I am so grateful to Our House for that and the myriad of friends and other therapists who have helped us all.
And finally, I find great comfort and strength in helping those that come after me in this difficult process. I wish them fortitude in going through the grief that cannot be avoided and hope that they too will get to the other side and feel happiness, be able to smile, and be at peace with their new normal.
hugs to all,
Lorin
It is true what they say - people do move on and get back to their life and you are faced to deal with your new life. But I am so much stronger for having had all these people carry me through the roughest time and I know that they will forever show up in those future times to help me celebrate life and face sorrows. I even find that the "how are you's" don't affect me so awkwardly and am even able to say "good, happy," perhaps with the caveat of "I still miss him but...."
Looking back at the first year, I don't even think I realized the depths of despair I faced each day not only in me but in my kids. Looking at them now, I see sparkles in their eyes, happiness in their activities and with their friends and overall less stress in our home. I am so grateful to Our House for that and the myriad of friends and other therapists who have helped us all.
And finally, I find great comfort and strength in helping those that come after me in this difficult process. I wish them fortitude in going through the grief that cannot be avoided and hope that they too will get to the other side and feel happiness, be able to smile, and be at peace with their new normal.
hugs to all,
Lorin
Friday, August 8, 2014
ONE YEAR
One year ago tonight, sweet Eddie let go and said goodbye to us surrounded by special friends and me with a waiting room full of most special people and our children. We told him we loved him and that it was ok to go. I never could have imagined the emptiness I would feel without him, the struggles I would face being a single parent or the fear that the best came and went so quickly. Yet, here I am still standing and somehow surviving through it all. I suppose the best part, if I was to say there was one, is seeing the true humanity that does exist. There have been so many new friends that have come my way, so many incredibly special people that might not otherwise have crossed my path. While of course they are not "worth" having lost Eddie, they certainly have made this road more bearable. They have helped to reaffirm that when God closes a door he opens a window and that even after the darkest nights, the sun does shine. It isn't always easy to remember during those dark nights but I try.
I thank all of those that have been here for us this year, that hold us up and carry us through the darkness, that have not forgotten us and that continue to wish us peace.
We wrote notes to Eddie on balloons today and sent them up to the heavens. I hope he somehow sees the words and somehow lets us know. We miss him dearly… forever in our hearts.
Hugs,
Lorin
I thank all of those that have been here for us this year, that hold us up and carry us through the darkness, that have not forgotten us and that continue to wish us peace.
We wrote notes to Eddie on balloons today and sent them up to the heavens. I hope he somehow sees the words and somehow lets us know. We miss him dearly… forever in our hearts.
Hugs,
Lorin
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
BIRTHDAYS COME.. BIRTHDAYS GO
Most of us take our birthdays for granted. Each year we know they will come and perhaps we will do a dinner, have a party for the "bigger" ones, a lunch with friends and then the day passes. They come, and they go.
But Eddie's came this past Sunday, July 27th, and there was no dinner with friends to plan, no surprise lunch, no present to buy, no cake to get and no candles to light. There were no "Happy Birthday to you" to be sung. No smiling kids faces celebrating their dad. Worst of all, it would have been his 50th and I most certainly would have done something big for him. We loved surprising each other on our birthdays.
We celebrated him in our own way by going to a baseball game in Texas with my family and it was the best way to honor the day I suppose. HIs birthday will keep coming and going but never the same way as before when it really was a celebration of him. Eddie loved his birthday and I know why - because it truly was a blessed day for those of us who knew him and loved him.
Celebrate your birthdays... you mean something to at least one person just for being here.
Hugs,
Lorin
But Eddie's came this past Sunday, July 27th, and there was no dinner with friends to plan, no surprise lunch, no present to buy, no cake to get and no candles to light. There were no "Happy Birthday to you" to be sung. No smiling kids faces celebrating their dad. Worst of all, it would have been his 50th and I most certainly would have done something big for him. We loved surprising each other on our birthdays.
We celebrated him in our own way by going to a baseball game in Texas with my family and it was the best way to honor the day I suppose. HIs birthday will keep coming and going but never the same way as before when it really was a celebration of him. Eddie loved his birthday and I know why - because it truly was a blessed day for those of us who knew him and loved him.
Celebrate your birthdays... you mean something to at least one person just for being here.
Hugs,
Lorin
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