Archive for January 2011

Back…

19 January, 2011

Five days to explore…and now I am back.

The past week has been intense, real, unexpected, expected, hard, tearful…but I’m back.

I’m not whole, I’m not over my grief, I’m not moving on. I’m just here. Now.

Because of this past week, I’ve released a lot, learned a lot and know that I will be going through change on a daily basis. I’ll still cry, I’ll still hurt but I’ve also embraced what could be. I’ll still struggle with expecting certain things from people but I’ve embraced that what they give me is all they are able to give. They are doing what they can.

Because of this past week, I’ve embraced looking at this life head on. Looking at this new reality and releasing what I thought it would be. I’m not bound to the picture of what my life should have been. I am bound to making my life all that it can be. I am bound to the love I had and have with Doug. I am bound to this moment. Right now.

I will probably slowly write about this past week. I’m a little afraid to because I do not want anyone to think or perceive that I’m done grieving. I’m not. I will always grieve. I will always feel this loss as if it happened yesterday. Writing about the fact that I feel a little lighter, feel more grounded, feel more of myself still carries so much with it. Don’t start breathing a sigh of relief that “I’m back”. I’m not the same. I’m not the same person. I’m not the same person you knew before.

And before I write about this past week, I want to stay within myself, to experience this shift that is occurring. I want to make sure that I have a hold of it with both hands.

Right now, thought, I will say that coming back and seeing my son after my days away – because of this week – I look at him with fresh eyes. It doesn’t hurt to laugh when he does something funny. It doesn’t hurt to hug him. It doesn’t hurt to look at him. It is as if I am seeing him for the first time again. Seeing him as this tiny baby with so many possibilities. I no longer see him through the eyes of my grief. I see him through the eyes of hope, of my love and his Daddy’s love.

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My Darling Little Boy

17 January, 2011

My Dearest Lido,

Oh my, a day late…I was attempting to write last night but found my brain on slow mode so here I am!

You have been with your Nanna for the past few days as I am taking some much needed time for myself. This was a very hard decision but easy at the same time. I knew that I needed to change things so that you and I could live life to the fullest. It was and is hard being away from you but the possibilities that this decision is generating are endless. It has been an intense week for me as I have been working on reconnecting with myself, being okay with having absolutely no idea who I am anymore and embracing the opportunity that I have in finding who that person is – on all levels. I’m learning a lot, facing a lot and am being open to possibilities and open to paths.

It has been fun to talk to you on the phone and to hear your little voice – hear you always moving and on the go. You are being spoiled with clementines and are very good at saying that word. So I’m sure there will be constant visits to the fridge for another clementine when I get home. I can’t wait to hear your voice in person and hold you again. I love you baby.

Coming out here has shown me that we have been okay over the past year and few months since losing your Dad but okay is not good enough. Things will be changing for both of us and I’m excited about being comfortable with the prospect of living life to its fullest – the both of us. I no longer want to feel that I need to work hard at keeping relationships because I want you to know who your Daddy was through friends or family. You will know him through me and through those people that want to be a part of our lives and make the decision – not just an effort – to do so. I’ve realized that what your Dad and I had, the relationship that we had was ours and wasn’t made up of others. We knew how we wanted to raise you. We knew how we wanted to live life. We. Him and I.

He was a part of my thoughts last night. Connected to me in a way that brought me peace and clarity. Connected in a way that showed me that there will always be a soul connection. I told him that I was just not sure how to move forward, how to handle different situations that caused me additional anguish and grief. He told me that he wanted me to be happy, that he would always be by my side and that he would deal with those situations that were causing additional anguish and grief. He wanted us, you and I, to live our lives fully and to walk the path we thought to be best for us. It doesn’t matter if others do not understand. It only matters if they are beside us, supporting us and loving us.

I no longer feel this great need to stay connected to people for the sake of you knowing your Daddy through them. I want to stay connected to people because they can add to my life and we may add to theirs. I am sure that this will bring us great opportunities to meet new people that either knew your Daddy or maybe they didn’t as well as connecting on another level with those that are a part of our lives.

I am not the person I was before but I still bring certain pieces of my old self with me. You, my son, are learning each and every day who you are. I hope that I am able to show you that it is possible, through grief and tragedy, to be someone greater than who you were before. Grief will never leave me just as your Dad will never leave me. They are both a part of me. But there are so many other things, as well, that are a part of me. Things that I have yet to discover.

A question that was posed to me my second day here meeting with a grief counselor was ‘what does your son see when he looks at you?’ My answer was ‘an empty vessel’. Oh how my heart broke when I heard those words come out of my mouth. After five days of being here I can now say that when I go back to you tomorrow, you will see a vessel filled with possibility and the love of your Daddy and the love I have for myself and for you.

I love you my little bug. It’s you and me and your Daddy walking beside us, watching over us.

Your Mommom

 

Being present with what is.

10 January, 2011

or facing the pain.

Starting in a couple of days…this is my intention. To face the pain and be present with what is.

It was a hard decision to make, however, I am doing it in my typical fashion – right now, when it feels completely right and in a short period of time because I don’t like to linger or wait. I’m taking 5 days for myself. Those days will be filled with meditation, grief counseling, spirituality, massage and just some time for myself.

I’m not necessarily looking forward to it but at the same time I am not not looking forward to it. If it gives some clarity, some time to for me to be with my thoughts and not adding ‘filler’ to every waking moment, then I embrace these five days completely. I’d like to come back feeling a little lighter. Feeling Doug a little more. Feeling that there is really something out there. Finding my spirituality once again. Knowing that I will not find him in the flesh but will find him in life.

I’ve yet to decide if I will share these experiences. I do think I’ll keep a daily journal of the experience – and maybe I’ll share.

After all, being vulnerable is being connected to life.

Measurements of Time

10 January, 2011

Ever since the accident there isn’t a day that goes by that I do not measure the amount of time that has gone by. It used to be every Sunday was counted. Then it changed to every 20th day counted. Months were counted, whether or not I was closer to the one year mark vs. the 1st day mark. A year came, another birthday, anniversary, Thanksgiving, Christmas and new year.

The one measurement though that sticks in my mind, at times more than any other, is the passage of the months on the NTSB aviation accident database – the monthly list. Now there are two years listed above ‘his year’. One year is completely filled in with the months and this year – just the one. We are moving down on the list. It’s not right there – front and center anymore. I stopped going on the site because of this. I hated seeing the passage of time in black and white. Month after month. I’ve been visiting recently though – just to see if there are any updates. Any at all. There is no use in contacting them. They’ll tell me that I need to go talk to a counselor…ya – they actually told me that. Told me to go on their website and they had an 800 number where I could speak to someone.

The wife of the other person killed got the same thing…after we were mad about it…I think we both found it kind of humorous.

Instead of seeking the advice of one of their counselors – I’ll just keep visiting the site and will make no attempt to contact them. I will see the passage of time, with no answer.

Anxiety.

6 January, 2011

I’ve been feeling anxious since yesterday. Really really anxious.

It’s because I am taking five days to myself. I am going somewhere I’ve been feeling like I need to go to for the past year. A place that keeps popping up in my head. I booked the ticket and made the plans.

At this place, I decided that I needed to talk to someone. So I have three counseling sessions that will focus on grief and I have one spiritual counseling session focused solely on me. Other sessions include energy work and some pampering.

For about 12 hours or so, I felt really excited about this decision. I felt a bit of a weight lifted.

Now all I feel like doing is crying and I can barely move. I feel that I have just existed today. Because just making these plans, well, it starts to solidify the fact that he is gone. I’ve looked at his pictures differently. I look at them and all of the intense feelings of loss start surfacing. Ever since the accident, I’ve just wanted to run away. I’ve wanted to be able to bury my head – and entire body and being. Thankfully there have been times where I have a 24 hour window of opportunity to do just that. Where I don’t have to be ‘there’ for Lido. Someone else is watching him. Although, I bury myself in mindless things such as playing solitaire for hours on end. I don’t have to think. But this isn’t getting me to where I need to go. It isn’t getting me down the path I need to walk. I’m fully aware of that. It just hasn’t been time.

Frankly I’m not sure why right now is the time. Why the hell did I feel that right now is the time? I have so many things on my plate right now. And I look at Lido and wonder how he is going to be without me around for five days. How am I going to be without him around?

I think though, that it is time for me to do this. Not only because of the things I have on my plate but because Lido is becoming more and more vocal about his feelings and I need to be able to handle my own grief before I can help him with his. I don’t know how to respond when he tells me he misses Daddy…I do my best but I feel that I can’t completely break down in front of him when things like this occur. I just need to look at my own path and help myself so that I can help him when he needs it.

But it is scary and I’m feeling the anxiety full force. All I keep hearing in my mind is myself begging ‘just don’t make me say he is dead’.