Clapton, Marley, and Muddy Waters...

I've never been about a pity party, never. Life gives us what it does and I'm all about trying to find the silver lining. It sounds trite, naive, and not in touch with reality I'm sure. But, it's how I've come to live, not because it's easy...not because it's fun...not because it always even works. It's my coping mechanism. If for a brief moment you can try to make yourself believe at the darkest of hours that indeed the sun will come out tomorrow. You're still playing the game of life and at times you feel like you've got things figured out. But when REAL questions about life come up, you realize you don't know shit about shit.

When it was time to plan Jason's funeral, I'll be honest, I didn't want to. I had just spent days without sleep, cried until nothing even came out of my eyes anymore, and had to tell my kids that their father would never be coming back. I wanted to crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head and just be alone...even though I felt more alone than I ever had before. However, that's not how life worked. There were details to be worked out, flowers to be ordered, and a proper good-bye had to be planned. It was comforting that the funeral director is a friend of ours, and he understood me from the minute I started talking, even though I felt like a zombie. I told him, I wanted this to be a celebration of a person. I wanted this, even though it was sad, to somehow have people smiling. Let's not put the focus on missing Jason, but rather celebrate the person he was.

Jason loved music. The funeral director tapped into every song Jason had ever posted on Facebook and sort of made a "Jason Soundtrack". It was eclectic, fun, and a thoughtful representation of who Jason was. I still find it funny that people would come up to me to give their condolences and say, "...did I just hear the 'Humpty Dance'?" The Beastie Boys, Marvin Gaye, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Clapton, Marley, Muddy Waters, Phish...they just kept playing. There were some songs that brought tears and others that I couldn't help laughing at, I mean we were in a funeral home. The point is, I've prided myself since that day that there is beauty in everything, laughter after tears, the gift in knowing someone even if they are no longer here.

When a child asks why bother praying? What did she do to deserve this? Why does God hate her? That's when the old stand-by answers don't even exist anymore. These are valid questions, they deserve valid answers. These are the times when any pity I have, always goes to my kids. It isn't fair to have to explain the theory of life to a five year old. It seems pointless to try to tell her anything more than the fact that she unknowingly is this unbelievable gift I was given, despite the fact that her father is no longer here. He is still a part of her, and she can connect with him at will...but her little brain and humongous heart can't connect with that...and I don't blame her.

When life is more real than anything going on around you, it's slightly isolating. No one really understands exactly what you are going through, because they aren't living it. I am very fortunate to have people. I am fortunate to have people that even though they understand me, they know they will never understand what we are going through. And they are okay with that, because just knowing they are there is my consolation. My struggle is knowing that no matter how hard I try, some of my explanations will never be consoling. That's REAL LIFE...and some days, there just aren't any silver linings. But there's always Clapton, Marley, and Muddy Waters...

Thank you, Louisa May...

Time is the funniest thing...It can transport you. Encourage you. Engage you. Help you remember how far you've come, how old you are, and that there still is a long road ahead of you. It is interesting how one date, not even a significant date in the calendars of time, can be recalled as if it wasn't years ago, more like hours or minutes. Today, out of the clear blue no where, time kicked my butt...

I stupidly tried to fight it off today, being conceited and thinking I could shrug it off. My burying skills are the stuff of legends. It's not that I don't want to deal with what might have me down, that isn't healthy. It's just the fact that I do not have the luxury of breaking down and bawling, at least without some sort of audience. I try to do anything else to quell it, at least until a quiet time. Today Not a chance.

Today, for the first time in a long time, it was in public, in a quiet church, and for some inexplicable reason, I just wanted to cry. I sat there, trying to stop it. Mentally giving myself a SERIOUS inter-monologue on how this was NOT THE TIME...no Kleenex, no wipes, forgot to even pack a rouge diaper today. I had 4 different snacks, 5 action figures, 3 colored pencils, 24 index cards and no Kleenex. That should have been my first clue that today was going to be off.

I sat there, willing myself to not be noticed. Willing myself that if I just focused on what was being said in church, I could trick my brain if for only 17 minutes to forget what it was doing. Like some sort of mental Sudoku puzzle. Nothing. Well, nothing but anger then. I felt flushed, nervous, and twitchy. I found it funny when about the time I was wondering if I should just walk out of church, as clearly the message was being lost on me today, Atticus turned to me and said "...so, is it time to go?"

I was trying to pinpoint the 'thing' that had me going crazy. I was trying to understand it and figure out what to do next. Not so easy to do in a church pew. I had all of these things running through my mind. What to fix? How to change? What's for lunch? How to stop feeling like I was going to ugly cry? We weren't the first ones out the church door, but we didn't stay to mingle. I walked that block home at the most brisk pace I could. Walked in the front door, answered Abe's 'What's for lunch?' question with 'FOOD', and excused myself to my room for a minute.

I sat, grabbed a roll of toilet paper, and bawled. Two years ago today we moved into this house. It was a hot, sweaty, tiresome but exciting day. I will remember it because of all of those things, but today it just made me sad because sometimes time is terrifying to me. I would never have believed that my life is where it is now moving in that day. I know I have some abandonment issues. Based on things thankfully not everyone fully understands. It seems treacherous and unproductive to push people away, but it's those 'inner survivor skills' bursting through at times to a fault. My instincts unfortunately at times are to push people who love me away, because I don't want to try to figure out how to live without them later.

So, as I tried to dry my eyes I looked up and saw a picture a dear friend got for me. It is a quote from Louisa May Alcott that simply says...

                        "I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship"

I looked at this metaphor for life, knowing that it is more than a daily mantra I should be uttering. It is a reminder that the stuff I thought was hard before? Yeah, that's just a 'try on' to what could happen next. All the while hoping that while I am learning how to sail my ship, I remember that I don't always have to do it alone...it could take a while...