I always amazes me that so many days are linked. So many days that remind me. So many bittersweet days. Today as I celebrate Mother's Day, I also remember Curtis' 25th birthday.
I was always happy to share this date. His wants for his birthday usually took over the day, but that never bothered me. After all, wasn't that what the day was about, a Mother's love?
Once again, his needs take over the day. On his birthday we travel to his grave to decorate it for the coming holiday. We raise a glass, and leave one for him. We laugh and cry. A far different birthday celebration from years ago.
But, I am still a mother. I have a beautiful daughter, a daughter in law and son in law. I have the joy of a granddaughter on the way. Life has a way of moving forward. In a way, I welcome the shared dates. I, obviously, will never forget, but they are also reminders of the wonderful gift that was Curtis.
Happy Heavenly Birthday Curtis, I am proud to be your Mother.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Moving
Times have been busy. To add to it, Dave and I recently moved. We only moved across town, but after living in the same home for 23 years it can be a big project. We are leaving the first home we ever owned, the home we spent almost half our lives in, the home we raised our children. So many memories caught in one place. The project has the potential to become very emotional.
Moving had crossed our minds many times over the years, but either the time wasn't right or we couldn't find the right house to keep the kids in the same schools. Then, when we were starting to toy with the idea a few years ago, Curtis was killed. The thought again was put on hold. Making such a big decision in times like that is just not a good idea.
Many memories came flooding back as I packed. Art projects were found, Emily's little rocking chair long tucked away or Curtis' farm set that hasn't seen the light of day brought back times from years past. Smiles instead of tears, a welcome change. Deciding what to keep, throw or give away was painful at times.
The most difficult project was taking down Curtis' things. Looking at his face, feeling like I was putting him away, if only temporary, felt like I was deceiving him somehow. But it had to be done, and I put that feeling aside and moved on.
Finally we are moved although not totally unpacked. As I left the old house for the last time I was surprisingly unemotional. I looked around and it already felt like the house belonged to someone else. Our new house already felt like home. My memories are in my mind, not in that house. I am not leaving my memories, they are moving with me.
Moving had crossed our minds many times over the years, but either the time wasn't right or we couldn't find the right house to keep the kids in the same schools. Then, when we were starting to toy with the idea a few years ago, Curtis was killed. The thought again was put on hold. Making such a big decision in times like that is just not a good idea.
Many memories came flooding back as I packed. Art projects were found, Emily's little rocking chair long tucked away or Curtis' farm set that hasn't seen the light of day brought back times from years past. Smiles instead of tears, a welcome change. Deciding what to keep, throw or give away was painful at times.
The most difficult project was taking down Curtis' things. Looking at his face, feeling like I was putting him away, if only temporary, felt like I was deceiving him somehow. But it had to be done, and I put that feeling aside and moved on.
Finally we are moved although not totally unpacked. As I left the old house for the last time I was surprisingly unemotional. I looked around and it already felt like the house belonged to someone else. Our new house already felt like home. My memories are in my mind, not in that house. I am not leaving my memories, they are moving with me.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Beautiful Balloons
It has been a long time since I decided to post something. One, I have not felt a need. The past several months have placed me with an even sense of emotions. Two, I have been busy with life. Volunteering, fund raising, speaking and working on relationships has added a mission to my life as well as a sense of peace.
This morning I was reflecting on a incident that happened last summer. It brought tears of sadness and joy.
I have written about the Patriot Ride in the past. I look forward to the ride, even knowing there will be many emotions. Each year is different and with every passing year, there seems to have more happiness in the ride for me.
The programs during the ride were extremely touching this year. There was a surprise homecoming, and a fellow Gold Star Mother spoke eloquently of our family's journey and thankfulness for the Patriot Guard's support. But the most touching part of my day was shortly after.
There is a ceremonial balloon release for the families. Each Gold Star family member is asked to write a note to their loved one and release a balloon as the final part of the day. For some reason, I did not feel like releasing a balloon. Many around me tried to force it on me, telling me I HAD to do it. If there is one thing I have learned in the past years, it is to follow my heart. I did not take a balloon, but followed the others to the field where they were to release them.
As I watch the ceremony, I noticed a couple in the back of the crowd. The woman was having a very difficult time. I did not recognize either of them, but kept an eye on them out of concern. Finally the man walked my way to take some pictures. I asked if they had recently lost their loved one. It had been one year and two days since the loss of his friends nephew. He had brought her for the first time, and like many of the families, the first ride is very difficult with emotions you didn't expect.
As the balloon release ended, the woman approached, still visibly upset. All I could do was take her into my arms as she sobbed on my shoulder. I knew those emotions all too well. I took deep breaths to remain calm and supportive, trying to show her peace without words. Dave and her friend watched silently. As she calmed, I opened my eyes only to find all the families had walked past us, silently, knowing the emotion. Seeing the picture as sad, yet very beautiful.
Had I chosen to release a balloon, I would not have been part of this beautiful scene. I am grateful I followed my heart. I did what felt right, not what I was told to do.
There is something more powerful than ourselves leading us in the direction we are suppose to take. We just need to follow the signs.
This morning I was reflecting on a incident that happened last summer. It brought tears of sadness and joy.
I have written about the Patriot Ride in the past. I look forward to the ride, even knowing there will be many emotions. Each year is different and with every passing year, there seems to have more happiness in the ride for me.
The programs during the ride were extremely touching this year. There was a surprise homecoming, and a fellow Gold Star Mother spoke eloquently of our family's journey and thankfulness for the Patriot Guard's support. But the most touching part of my day was shortly after.
There is a ceremonial balloon release for the families. Each Gold Star family member is asked to write a note to their loved one and release a balloon as the final part of the day. For some reason, I did not feel like releasing a balloon. Many around me tried to force it on me, telling me I HAD to do it. If there is one thing I have learned in the past years, it is to follow my heart. I did not take a balloon, but followed the others to the field where they were to release them.
As I watch the ceremony, I noticed a couple in the back of the crowd. The woman was having a very difficult time. I did not recognize either of them, but kept an eye on them out of concern. Finally the man walked my way to take some pictures. I asked if they had recently lost their loved one. It had been one year and two days since the loss of his friends nephew. He had brought her for the first time, and like many of the families, the first ride is very difficult with emotions you didn't expect.
As the balloon release ended, the woman approached, still visibly upset. All I could do was take her into my arms as she sobbed on my shoulder. I knew those emotions all too well. I took deep breaths to remain calm and supportive, trying to show her peace without words. Dave and her friend watched silently. As she calmed, I opened my eyes only to find all the families had walked past us, silently, knowing the emotion. Seeing the picture as sad, yet very beautiful.
Had I chosen to release a balloon, I would not have been part of this beautiful scene. I am grateful I followed my heart. I did what felt right, not what I was told to do.
There is something more powerful than ourselves leading us in the direction we are suppose to take. We just need to follow the signs.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Anxiety
Anxiety. For some time I have suppressed it, but it is back with a vengeance. Maybe it's because I have been so busy with planning the golf event, looking forward to having the girls and Curtis' buddies around, now it is over and they are gone. Every time I turn around I feel everything is closing in on me. I feel a sense of doom. Criticism, even constructive, crushes me. Small tasks overwhelm me. Motivation evades me.
I hate that these moments come at strange times. Nothing in particular brings them on, or do they. Yesterday I felt I was getting messages all day, and I wasn't liking what they were saying. It seemed that every hour a song, recent or old, was sending a story of loss and yearning for a loved one. My mid morning patient came in full of stress, and after chatting, I discovered she had lost her son almost exactly one year ago. We had our moment, and she told me "You were just what I needed today" That didn't help my melancholy mood, in fact I think it added to it.
Unlike the dark days of three years ago, I know this time will pass. I need to trudge forward, keeping in mind the wonderful people I have around me. It's all I can do.
"Sunny days seem to hurt the most. I wear the pain like a heavy coat." ~Kenny Chesney
I hate that these moments come at strange times. Nothing in particular brings them on, or do they. Yesterday I felt I was getting messages all day, and I wasn't liking what they were saying. It seemed that every hour a song, recent or old, was sending a story of loss and yearning for a loved one. My mid morning patient came in full of stress, and after chatting, I discovered she had lost her son almost exactly one year ago. We had our moment, and she told me "You were just what I needed today" That didn't help my melancholy mood, in fact I think it added to it.
Unlike the dark days of three years ago, I know this time will pass. I need to trudge forward, keeping in mind the wonderful people I have around me. It's all I can do.
"Sunny days seem to hurt the most. I wear the pain like a heavy coat." ~Kenny Chesney
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Beautiful Things
Spring is finally here, I think. Actually, other than the gloominess, I haven't minded the extended winter. It has kept my mind on the tasks of the things I need to accomplish. The golf benefit is only a few weeks off and we have established our own non-profit and needed to wrap up a few loose ends for that. And, since I didn't have enough to do, I have been asked to speak for Rochester's Memorial Day ceremony, what a tremendous honor. With so much to do and so much on my mind, I have neglected to write, I have missed it.
Yesterday I was choosing flowers for Curtis' grave. We are placing them today, his birthday. It makes me sad that this is the way we have to spend the day. I know others are comforted by visiting the grave sights of their loved ones, but I have much difficulty with it, I always have. I was looking at the many colors and varieties of flowers unable to select which flowers would be perfect. How do you choose correctly for something that is so wrong? I finally completed the task.
It made me think of how our minds can change so drastically about a subject. Even though this is a small subject, I think it is a marker for how my attitude toward life has changed. I used to tell Dave that I didn't like to receive fresh cut flowers because they only died. Today, I would rather have him bring me home a bouquet or even a single flower over anything else.
The beauty and fragrance of flowers bring something no other object could. A smile always crosses my lips when I see them, and I have to stop to take in a full lung of their scent when I pass. Yes, they do not last forever, but that is life. Beautiful things are not meant to last forever.
Yesterday I was choosing flowers for Curtis' grave. We are placing them today, his birthday. It makes me sad that this is the way we have to spend the day. I know others are comforted by visiting the grave sights of their loved ones, but I have much difficulty with it, I always have. I was looking at the many colors and varieties of flowers unable to select which flowers would be perfect. How do you choose correctly for something that is so wrong? I finally completed the task.
It made me think of how our minds can change so drastically about a subject. Even though this is a small subject, I think it is a marker for how my attitude toward life has changed. I used to tell Dave that I didn't like to receive fresh cut flowers because they only died. Today, I would rather have him bring me home a bouquet or even a single flower over anything else.
The beauty and fragrance of flowers bring something no other object could. A smile always crosses my lips when I see them, and I have to stop to take in a full lung of their scent when I pass. Yes, they do not last forever, but that is life. Beautiful things are not meant to last forever.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Contradictions
It's only a few days before we hit the date we lost Curtis three years ago. The last few weeks have been tough with so many reflective moments going through my mind. It makes me think of how my life has become a series of contradictions.
I sometimes feel I'm walking around in circles, never really accomplishing much. At the same time I look back at the last three years and see how much Dave and I have done. How did that happen? We have kept busy to help get through some tough times, yet it does little to ease the pain.
I feel a sense of peace, yet I have a nervous energy I can't seem to shake. There is nothing I can do about what is happened and I have accepted that fate, but I cry often because it hurts.
Time is the strangest contrast. In three years a lifetime has passed in a blink on an eye. I hate how it passes too quickly. I worry with time I will forget things. Not him of course, but small things I enjoyed about him so much. I could be so mad at him one second, and he would say "I love you Mom" and it would all be forgiven. I miss that.
I sometimes feel I'm walking around in circles, never really accomplishing much. At the same time I look back at the last three years and see how much Dave and I have done. How did that happen? We have kept busy to help get through some tough times, yet it does little to ease the pain.
I feel a sense of peace, yet I have a nervous energy I can't seem to shake. There is nothing I can do about what is happened and I have accepted that fate, but I cry often because it hurts.
Time is the strangest contrast. In three years a lifetime has passed in a blink on an eye. I hate how it passes too quickly. I worry with time I will forget things. Not him of course, but small things I enjoyed about him so much. I could be so mad at him one second, and he would say "I love you Mom" and it would all be forgiven. I miss that.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
The Whole Picture
Perhaps I've given the wrong impression. Recently someone told me she didn't need to ask what I have been doing and how I have been feeling, all she had to to was read my blog. I just nodded my head and smiled.
I take great care in what I put out to the public. I try to stay upbeat and positive because it is the direction I want to go. The trauma I have suffered was deep, the wound was jagged and raw. The healing has been slow and painful. Now, 'arthritis' has set in, never letting me forget the damage that has been done. Some of my writing is dark and angry, but I don't want to place that on anyone.
I have said that I write for myself first, if it helps others to understand it is an added bonus. Many can empathize, but I don't know if anyone could totally understand. Even though many have gone through the same circumstance, each of our journeys are so different. I can honestly tell them, "I have walked in your shoes, but I do not know what you are feeling."
So many look at the things Dave and I have done in the past few years and take comfort in believing we are doing great. Yes, we have accomplished much, but as Dave would say it's because we are scared. We didn't know what else to do. We didn't want our son or any of the other brave men and woman who paid the ultimate price for our freedoms forgotten. Doing the same old thing was not an option, so we simply needed to find an outlet.
I will continue to write in my positive fashion because I believe it is that state of mind that is helping me heal. I am grateful people read my blog and are able to follow this crazy journey, but please understand this is not the whole picture. I don't think I can even put all of it into words.
I take great care in what I put out to the public. I try to stay upbeat and positive because it is the direction I want to go. The trauma I have suffered was deep, the wound was jagged and raw. The healing has been slow and painful. Now, 'arthritis' has set in, never letting me forget the damage that has been done. Some of my writing is dark and angry, but I don't want to place that on anyone.
I have said that I write for myself first, if it helps others to understand it is an added bonus. Many can empathize, but I don't know if anyone could totally understand. Even though many have gone through the same circumstance, each of our journeys are so different. I can honestly tell them, "I have walked in your shoes, but I do not know what you are feeling."
So many look at the things Dave and I have done in the past few years and take comfort in believing we are doing great. Yes, we have accomplished much, but as Dave would say it's because we are scared. We didn't know what else to do. We didn't want our son or any of the other brave men and woman who paid the ultimate price for our freedoms forgotten. Doing the same old thing was not an option, so we simply needed to find an outlet.
I will continue to write in my positive fashion because I believe it is that state of mind that is helping me heal. I am grateful people read my blog and are able to follow this crazy journey, but please understand this is not the whole picture. I don't think I can even put all of it into words.
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