I'll see you when I get there...

Four years ago today, I was blissfully unaware of where life would lead...unaware of the cards I would be dealt...unaware that life as I knew it would change forever. And today, I'm feeling that ignorance I was so lucky to have. Even four years later, it is painful.

Four years ago tomorrow would be the last time I spoke to my best friend. Four years ago tomorrow was the last time I made him coffee or complained to myself how lucky he was that I let him sleep in. Four years ago tomorrow he was rushed out of our house in an ambulance while our kids were watching. Four years ago was the last time I spoke to him with his eyes open and looking at me. He was getting ready to be helicoptered to St. Louis and I said, "I'll see you when I get there..." At the time I meant St. Louis, now I know the destination is outside the realm of this world.

Today, I wish I was "there" if only for 45 minutes. Four years later, I feel like I am finally dealing with loss. It's scary, debilitating and more painful than I ever thought imaginable. But, the loss isn't just for myself, it is for all of us. It is for all of the things we have faced and are going to face, without a husband, a father and a friend. After Jason passed away, I didn't lose it...I didn't have time. I had so much to figure out, kids to take care of and things to keep going. I became a professional at spinning plates like those people in the circus. I convinced myself that this was how I was going to deal with loss. While I know this year is just one of many that grief will be difficult, perhaps when the circus leaves town this is how it feels.

There are all of these things I cannot do or memories and experiences I cannot recreate. All of these things that kids really need their father to help them, and those same things that I long for my husband to help me from loosing my shit. In the beginning I think I thought I could play both roles and everything would be fine. But I see looks in the kids eyes sometimes, and I think to myself, "Yes, if you only knew how hard I was trying to NOT make this a shit show..." Every mother loves her children, but I am not sure if mine will ever know the magnitude of my love. I love them for two people one they see and one they cannot see.

Anger, fear and loathing, are all consuming, and I don't blame any of one in this house for feeling them sometimes. I know that the Talls would rather talk to their dad about personal stuff. I know Nora has told me she never wants to get married because her dad can't walk her down the isle. I know that Atticus looks just like someone he'll never meet, and he only knows this because everyone tells him. I have been told that maybe another "male figure" could fill in for some things in the kids lives. But the fact remains that they just don't want someone, they want their dad. I've seen people who lovingly try to step in and be that "male figure," and I almost cringe, as I know exactly what the kids are thinking...all the while praying that my kids see the kindness of the gesture before blurting out, "Step off buddy!" We will get to that place eventually, but I am not sure any of us are ready yet.

"The Little Bulldog" is what Jason used to lovingly refer to me as. He saw me give a nurse a talking-to one time when he was in the hospital, and never let me forget it. He said while that side of me didn't come out often, when it did people better look out. Well, he was probably grinning recently, as it did come out and subsequently, I no longer work outside of the home. Everything happens for a reason, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved. I missed doing my full time job, the tittle I'm most proud of on my resume, raising my kids. Jason would be proud that I tried something new, but grateful that I know to put our kids as my priority.

Some days are going to just be like this and there is no avoiding it, as it will only be worse if I do. Regardless of wanting to talk to Jason one more time, chanting it to myself before I go to bed won't will it to happen. I look around and think at how much has changed and how much we all have changed. While that is scary, I know how proud he would be of all of us...four years later, that is the takeaway I have to adopt. "I'll see you when I get there..."

...dare to dream...

With my "Wildcat Blue" bag packed, I was ready to start off on this new adventure...a job.
Manic is the best way to describe how I felt before starting this job, ask anyone who I'm close with, they'll more than likely attest that I was the closest they've seen near crazy in a while. The chance to start over again is thrilling and terrifying...the chance to do something that I enjoy is indescribable. It's more than just a job, it's a job doing what I like to do, but never been paid.

To grasp the ability to understand that you are being given a chance in a world where you thought you knew what your roll would always be, possibly downplaying it as just what you do...as if being a mom wasn't really a job worth bragging about. The night I found out I was offered this job position, I thanked my kids. When they found out they cheered, hugged and high fived me. I was grateful for their support, probably needing it more than I really wanted to mention to them. After telling them thank you, Nora turned to me and said, "...mom, you make all of our wishes happen, now it's time to make your own wishes happen". To which Abe said, "...wow, Nora...that's deep".

The fact that I'm out of my house, well it's funny to me that I'm getting paid to enjoy it. I noticed after my first two weeks working, it's nice to actually have a name...and people use it. Hearing a child say mom, momma, mommy, MOM...being at work was like a break from reality. Sitting at a computer being slightly terrified about my lack of technical ability, being asked to do things that didn't entail making a meal, snack, cleaning a mess, or breaking up a fight...closely resembles paradise. The chance to do something that I have dreamt of doing at first made me worry, what if it didn't live up to the dream?

The women I work for and with are remarkable. Young, talented, creative, thoughtful, clever and dedicated are how I would describe them. While I am older than they are, they are no doubt teaching me more than they will ever know, besides literally teaching me how to everything else. I'm impressed by their passion for their job, and their understanding of the college we work for. They have seriously eased me into going back into the realm of the work force, and my gratitude to them is unfailing. I'm only hopeful that someday I can keep up with them.

My decision to go back to work always weighed on the notion that the right job will come along when it is time. I knew eventually, if I was patient something would come along. I seriously feel like it was an opportunity given to me that I couldn't pass up. I'm starting to realize that life sometimes gives you things to possibly reward where you've been. I have an ongoing joke with a wonderful friend that she and I are "shit creek" survivors. As if it were some actual destination that we stumbled into and we've slowly been trying to find out way out of it. I feel like the opportunities that I have today, I probably would never have been given if I hadn't had to wade through the creek a while to learn a few things out about myself and life.

Even though it's not how I planned my life to end up, I'm so glad I am where I am today. My silver linings, lucky for me are more visible now than ever. My friends-who've seen me through shit creek, thank you. You have given me the courage to keep going, your willingness to help me make this all work, and your love that I cherish. My kids, even if the pre-teen-terror has started- thank you for showing me who I can be, believing in who I am, and reminding me how grateful I am to be your mom. The fact of the matter is, sometimes you have to dare to dream...take the dare, and enjoy the adventure.

...how's your view?

"If I knew then what I know now..." is a concept that readily swims around in my head from time to time...like at times long enough for it to get 'pruned' fingers. Most of the time you hear this spoken it lends itself to regret and pain. It's some cautionary thought about how life/situations/time could have been better. I learned a phrase during my formative years, "...it's not better or worse, it's just different" and I think subconsciously it has taken over. And unknowingly and thankfully it has saved me at times.

Each of my children's reason for existence is very different...that sounds cryptic. What I mean is that the reasons I feel I'm lucky enough to be their parent is different. Sure I believe they were all put on this earth to accomplish something unique and exciting, but it's more. I identify who they are and what they will be maybe the most in my heart.

Oscar miracle baby. We were told we'd probably not be able to get pregnant, due to anti rejection medication that Jason was on. When we found out we did, it wasn't a feeling of "HA! TAKE THAT WESTERN MEDICINE!" It was more like the feeling of being blessed. Blessed to be parents. Blessed to have an answered prayer. Blessed to have the chance to watch something that was just ours grow. He's possibly a bit spoiled, being the oldest. He's at times a bit too literal with his thoughts. He's like granite; beautifully, endlessly layered and at times hard to crack. He was brought to this earth to engage in a unique way, with his interesting insights on life and endless creativity.

Abe was the affirmation, clearly we might no longer have a problem getting pregnant. Having babies 18 months apart gets you some very interesting looks, as if perhaps we needed another hobby. Why does anyone feel it necessary to actually say, "...you know what causes that, don't you?" Gross. At any rate, he was this whirlwind of a baby, a tad clingy, a tad ornery, but completely adorable. Always ready to entertain. Always ready to play. Always quick to pick up exactly what you NEVER wanted anyone to repeat. He's bright, entertaining, and caring. He holds this unbelievable ability to connect with the smallest of children, engage them, and wants to teach them. He was brought to this earth to be a father, first and foremost.

Nora. In a house where everyone stood to pee BUT me, Nora was the daughter I desperately needed. She was this tiny little thing in the beginning, and watching the men in my life turn to putty around her...was something I'll never forget. She's quick with a joke. Her volume is sometimes nonexistent. She's an old sole, the likes of which I cannot even put an age to. She has helped me when I really felt like giving up. She has understood, even when I couldn't answer her question. She was brought to this earth to help me remember the value of another female-drama and all. Not sure if she'll ever be a mother, but I am convinced that she will be some one's best friend.

Atticus, the truest end. He is the embodiment of the notion that you are capable of doing anything, if only you believe in yourself. He's strong willed. He fears very little. He has no concept of the word can't. I truly believe he'll never use it. He is sort of the best mix of all of his siblings. He walks up to any kid and asks them to be his friend. He is quick to show love, but will let you know if you've ticked him off. He's creative, compassionate, entertaining and a thinker. He sort of has embodied more than I probably ever thought he would at the time he was born. He has been my benchmark on parenting, if he's jacked up, well there's only me to thank for that. He will forever be my reminder that life, no matter what you are thrown, does go on...what the view looks like is entirely up to you.

We go back to the "...if I knew then what I know now...". To me, life isn't meant to be anything other than how you survive it. If I would have been told how my life would have turned after having Atticus, it would have actually been to my detriment. I would never have learned all I have about my children, or myself. I would never have been able to get past what life handed out, to understand what ELSE life CAN hand you. Yeah, I know more now than I knew then...But, tonight, when we are lighting a "3" candle on a birthday cake, I am reminding myself something. I'm reminding myself that going forward, while sometimes scary, also gives this abounding hope of what is yet to be. To my youngest, Atticus...I write this with tears in my eyes, because I think you are the bravest kid I've ever met. Let's eat that ugly cake now!

What the what?

...sometimes, I catch myself...sometimes, I actually have to remind myself...I live in a hilarious, ironic world, where I'm not much taller than those who I am in charge of...I have to laugh at the notion that I'm the grown-up.What sort of twisted world is it, that I am the one in charge of these gaggle of blue-eyed 'charmers'? It's as if I was attempting to step off an elevator at the wrong floor. Everyone I'm with subtly saying, "...um, chick, this is the wrong floor...you couldn't possibly be in charge of those kids..."

I was discussing with Oscar an issue he had had at school. He began to try to 'set me straight' on the issue. I kept calm and while I didn't appreciate his tone, it didn't make me jump from a 2 to a 10 on the Mommy Dearest Scale...so I didn't think anything of it. All of the sudden, Abe comes into the room and gets right into Oscar's eyes and says rather sternly, "...that woman has a college degree...she puts a roof over your head and food on your table...you will can it, and listen to her because she is your mother...". Then Abe turned around, and walked out the room. What the what?...I got off at the wrong floor?

I am an unlikely parent. My views, while shaped by the experiences I have been lucky enough to have, are unlike that of most parents, or even my own. I believe that I am the most important example for these kids, if they end up train wrecks- I might have had something to do with it. But, their lives will be further shaped by the choices/decisions they make. I always cringe when I hear kids talking about going to college. I value a college degree, please do not misunderstand me. However, who knows what they want to do for the rest of their lives, with a $15,000 a year price tag until they figure it out, at 18? I don't feel like every kid should go directly to college, if they even should at all. I encourage my kids to go to a trade school first...electricians, plumbers, barbers...I can't do any of those things.

In the van the other day, Nora started one of her MANY talking points in the 13 mile excursion that we take once or twice a week. That day's talking points where: Hibernation, why bother? Why does red mean stop and green mean go? Did I know that she knew how to play the bass guitar? Why isn't my favorite animal and elephant like her since we are related? Lastly, she finished with a rousing discussion about how she really didn't know what she was going to be when she grew up...there were so many choices. I told her that she didn't have to really decide today, and that she should just enjoy being 4 years old. She then says to me, "...so, what are you going to be when you grow up?....or is this Mom thing probably it?"...speechless.

I'm not the most conventional woman. I never really 'sought out' a career. I never really felt the need to become a goal setting employee. I entered the adult world, not really knowing what I wanted to do other than be a mom. Instead of fitting my kids into my career life, they became my career. I feel like I did the important things first. Now, I do realize I live a charmed life. This stay-at-home-life won't be lasting too much longer. But, I'm grateful that I made the choices that I have, not only for myself but also for my kids sake. The 28 year old me, would have never imagined the world in which the nearly 38 year old me resides. Ironically, I wouldn't want to be 28 again. Thankfully, with age comes some knowledge of not only who you are, but what you are capable of. I have managed to keep four rowdy blue-eyed charmers alive as the 'adult in the house'. My aspirations become all that more important...I keep learning from them.

...this isn't a 30 minute sitcom...

Well...hello. It's been a while since I've written you...I've been a little busy. If someone would have told me a year ago, that my life would be how it is today? I would have told them to put down the crack pipe, and check themselves into a program. There would be no way that I would/could ever do half of the things I have done in the last year...but, that's not reality.

We had a conversation about your absence today. I reminded the kids how much they've accomplished in the last year...it fell seemingly on deaf ears. They couldn't figure out what I was trying to say. Nora, of course, said, "...I wish he could just come back for a while...", that's usually her standard response. She could carry on a full conversation just about anything (fact or fiction) but grasping where/why you are gone, not quite there yet.

In this conversation, I was trying to tell them how much they have grown, we have grown in the last year. People comment to me all the time, how hard it must be on my own...it is, but it would be so much worse if these kids weren't so great. I told them how strong they were. I told them how proud I was of them...I told them, "...do you know how amazing you kids are? You have been through one of the toughest years of your life. You have been through a loss that most can't even imagine. Look how you have made it...". What I really wanted to say, but censored myself is, do you know how bad ass you are?!

These kids, without them, I would never have made it. Sure, I long for the ability to just go to my room and shut the door at any given time of the day, but that is not reality. We, together, have somehow gained a strength in your absence...I'm not sure if that is out of necessity or if they have always had it in them...but it's there. We are bound for more difficult things in our path of life, this isn't a 30 minute sitcom, but my hope is that this will always be the glue that binds us...this monumental struggle of our lives changing.

The best part about these kids, is their sense of humor. They are able to find the humor, in what we are going through. The many mood swings of Nora. The boy who wants to be a man who (without the need for hygiene) in Oscar. The slight little fella who is always ready to show his feats of strength in Abe. All of us discussed the future of Atticus at the table tonight. As I was wrestling with him to sit at the dinner table, exchanging forks umpteen times, telling him to sit down...Someone asked what I thought his voice would be like. I said probably echoed in prison...Oscar was convinced Atticus would be able bust out of fairly quickly/stealthily. Nora said she would pray for him. Abe said, "...If he broke out, then I'd have to have him over for dinner, I can't leave my stinking brother out in the cold...".

These, little gifts of you...They are what wake me up in the morning. Argue with me. Drool on me. Wad their laundry up. Pee on the toilet seat. Make me play pool party in our living room. Climb the kitchen drawers to play with the coffee pot/knives. Eat me out of house and home. They are the last things I think about when I go to bed at night. They are these awesome gifts, while they might keep the liquor cabinet stocked, I'm left with the best part of you...with their help, I hope I'm doing you proud.

How often should you eat Chinese?

"...he's very entertaining, slightly aspiring to be the funny guy. He's a kind, caring little fellow...he does however understand sarcasm...quite well..." And so, goes the time of year when we have to face those sainted people who take our kids off of our hands eight hours a day. Those people who see our little 'angels' hopefully on their best behavior...the parent teacher conference.

For me, it's an interesting time. I'm nearly upon the last 'event' where I can say, "...I've never done this by myself before...". Tonight's conference and then Halloween, and it's like we've started a new year. I've done my best to make sure that with each passing month, we've tried to acknowledge our accomplishments (however lost they are upon me at times), and made it through another month. We are approaching a year since all of our lives have changed...

I broached, with each of the Talls teachers, the subject our lives. I wanted them to know that we are approaching an interesting time. No matter how I spin the month-to-month 'accomplishments', some of the issues I'm currently dealing with as a parent have me baffled whether it's nature or nurture. Does ever 9 year old act like I did when I was 13? Or is this our situation specific. I wanted the Talls' teachers to know that while they seem mild mannered, things could get interesting (insert reference to acting like ass clowns here). I'm not a delusional parent that feel like my children are the picture of perfection...it's lame, boring, and not half as much fun.

This house we live in, for example, has changed around us. I can sit in any room and really have to rack my brain, to find memories. In the beginning those memories were everywhere. Anything I saw, certain times of day, reminded me of Jason. It's as if we've filled it up with new ones. New memories of our new life, ones that leave you smiling instead of aching. The world, our world has changed around us, maybe because it had to. Maybe because we needed it to. Maybe because life has to go on...never-the-less, while I know Jason will always be here in our hearts, I'm actually looking forward to the approaching holidays...something I never would have considered a year ago.

We no longer are able to have anything of value within reach of Atticus. Hell, I can't even store things without his prying little hands exploring every nook and cranny of this house. He went from being this baby who could barely crawl, to a power-house of excitement with juvenile delinquent tendencies in a year. The boys have mastered door frame climbing. Nora is no longer scared of the vacuum. What once was this massive place, we've grown into, filled out...with toys and books and art supplies and school projects and Legos and Barbies. Having surprise parties for smelly stuffed animals. Running from room to room playing keep away from Atticus (Atti Attack!). Eating Chinese too often. Not eating enough vegetables. Watching movies and making fun of them. We are coming up on a time when we will no longer be able to say, "...remember last year when Jason/Dad did this?"...it's a weird feeling...

I was reminded by a my sainted friend the other day, my statue of limitations is about to run out for my situation...I won't be able to use the excuse of not doing this whole thing alone anymore. Our lives have been altered for sure. For me, the day-to-day that everyone might credit me for getting done, really is a beard. The stresses of raising four kids, alone, I at times hide behind so that I don't have to face things. Do I really want to go to family fun night? With four kids, one of which is 20 months old? NOT ON YOUR LIFE...because I'm doing it alone. Do these decisions hurt my kids? Maybe. But there is sure to be another family fun night next year, we'll see how my mental state is then.

We are about to hit this 'mythical time' everyone has told me about, the YEAR mark...it's fascinating how THAT measurement of time means, something? The YEAR mark for me, taking into consideration my day-to-day, mentally happened about 5 months ago. Fact of the matter, it's time. Time to stop making excuses about being a single parent. Time for a gut check. Time to delegate. Time to look at the new year ahead of us...I need to take more time to celebrate our accomplishments...learn from our mistakes...understand that goals are not always met...and appreciate the art of sarcasm, that has apparently gotten us through this far.

...not a red flag, but a red badge...

Sometimes this 'pleasure cruise' is not one I actually want to be on. Sure, I find the humor in the little things...Mainly because no one would believe them, and because they keep me from the liquor cabinet. I try not to whine, or carry on about feelings, I don't seek out situations to be sad or upset. I tend to run from them, as I see it as a waste of my time to be miserable...Make no mistake, Mother Nature makes sure I have a nice melt down a couple of times a month, I'm no cyborg, but that's not really anything new.

Then there have been times in the last months or so when I've realized that there is nothing worse than not knowing how you are supposed to feel. You have no idea what emotion you are supposed to display? My life has slightly become this messed up equation, of which I have avoided math most of my life, ironic, huh?

The equation is run down as such...knowing how you feel divided by (*/*), how others feel. Multiplied by (x,) how your true feelings might elicit judgment plus (+). How you might hurt others by what you are feeling, minus (-) the fact that life is hard enough...Equals feeling tired, stressed, and just wanting to get on with real life, or something you see that is better just in the next room, if nothing else. Math, it sucks, right? So, what's the answer? How do I show my work on this problem? Can I just skip it and go on to the next? I took some advice, and I did...but it's time for some unvarnished truth...

So, here's the thing...it's easy to write about my kids, they are hilarious, and take the edge off of my side of the story. Their ability to trudge through this new life has been an inspiration to me...but I needed more. I needed to talk to an adult...someone who didn't know my present/past, someone who didn't know all about me...because in reality, I've had to start over. I was someone before I became a wife and mother...and I had to sort of find her again. So, that was my mission. Talk to people that I could just be Kate to first, then if they were worth talking to they would hear my whole story...because, let's face it, nothing kills a room like, "Hi, I'm a widowed mother of four...".

But, oddly enough...I met this person. He asked all these interesting questions...at times questions I had never even asked of myself. They weren't prying. They were questions that really spoke of who I was, much like the person asking. He asked about Jason, in a way that wasn't sad, which is unusual.  He didn't fear what I had been through, he admittedly admired how I had handled it, and how I was coping. He is interested in my past, curious about my future. He said to me recently, "...it must be hard to find Kate Van Gilder, she's been away for a while..." and he's right.

I forgot how nice it was to feel appreciated. Worried about. Heard by another adult, a cheerleader... He laughs at my jokes. Listens to my parenting woes. Gives me advice. And thankfully, understands that it's overwhelming at times...and usually tells me to write about it. He is this warm, sweet person, who cares what I'm making for dinner, and wants to know how I drink my coffee so strong. He is the first to message me in the morning, and the last at night. My life has become better after meeting him...he understands me in a way that I never thought I'd find again, and sorely missed. Of course, I'm sure he sees me as a widowed mother of four, but it's not a red FLAG to him, it's a red BADGE...and that is priceless.

Thus, we are back to the equations again...the part that I keep getting hung up on is other people's perceptions. There is a strange fraction of people in this world that either, want to see you miserable when you are not. OR they want to see you happy when you are miserable...I guess, the weird thing is, it's not for them to choose. I have to remind myself...While I don't want to hurt anyone, or let anyone down, my happiness is for me to choose, and I don't believe in coincidences...While every day isn't a' pleasure cruise', I feel like I've been given a gift to be happy again...and while on this cruise, I'm at the bar wanting my $9 souvenir cup refilled...