My heart is broken

I have a post in queue that I wrote on Monday and just hadn't published yet. But, I can't even begin to wrap my thoughts around that right now.

My heart is totally broken.

My husband and I never get time alone. Yesterday happened to be his day off and the girls had a two hour drop off Art Class, so we excitedly planned to spend the time together.

It started out so wonderful. Yes, there was a ton of traffic getting to the restaurant, but we were together.

Without children.

We enjoyed our drinks and our appetizers and got our meal.

The place was loud, but we liked it. There were football replays on the screens and general mayhem.

And then ...

Suddenly the place was quiet.
  The speakers no longer played the annoying pop music.
    Out of nowhere, the speakers broke up my happy morning with news of yet another tragedy.

But, this was different.

As I listened and watched, horrified, I discovered that this tragedy happened at an elementary school.

I cringed as I said, "Elementary school, baby. That is like "The Hippie's" age (she will be 10 in a week).

Then, it happened. That moment that crushed me. That moment that took my breath away and made me cry like a baby in the middle of a busy Chili's restaurant. That discovery that has squashed my spirit ever since.

I discovered that it was a KINDERGARTEN class and that TWENTY small children were dead.

Dear God, my throat closes up as I type that.

My babies are safe and sound in their room and I am completely wrecked.

Devastated.

Each time I woke up last night, it was the first thing I thought of. Just like when I discovered my own father had died. Just like when I discovered my brother had died. When you sleep and you wake, it's like discovering it all over again each time when you realize it was not a bad dream.

I've never been to Connecticut.
  I don't know these people.
    My children are safe.
      And, I am a mess.

Why?

Because all I can think about are the TWENTY families that lost their 5 or 6 year old yesterday.

TEN days before Christmas and their baby is gone.

There are probably presents under the tree with their name on them.

It was probably the last day of school.
  They probably didn't even need to be there.
    It was probably going to be an early release day for Christmas break.

Those poor Mamas and Daddies put on their little coats and their mittens and dropped them off at kindergarten. They trusted that they would be safe. They thought that they would play with play-doh and listen to a story and play on the playground while Mama ran a few last minute errands.

And, now they are gone.

I cannot even see my screen as I type this. My eyes are just pouring.

My heart is truly broken.

Here I was, thankful to get two hours without my children yesterday morning ... while other parents were losing theirs with no hope of getting two hours back with their children.

I have no wise words.
  I have nothing comforting to say.
    I apologize if my post today has done nothing to inspire you.
      I am sorry if I've only ruined your day.

I don't even know how to end this post.

All I can offer is for you to hug your babies tight when you close out this post.
  Hug them tight and kiss them and tell them how much you love them.

And, thank GOD for every moment you get to spend with them.

That is all I have been doing for the past 20 hours.

Memories

 

Please forgive the quality of the pictures. These are from the 80s. Even if I were to try to give you some more recent pictures of these amazing people, the pictures would still be fuzzy. Why, you ask? Well, two of them went to be with their Heavenly Father before the "digital age".

Here we are. December 10th. Smack in the middle of my favorite time of year.

Really. It is. Always has been.

I loved the Holidays as a child.

Thanksgiving in Louisville. The longest day ever, but oh so worth it. I didn't watch football back then, so it bored me to tears to have an entire day of waiting to eat the food that was smelling up the house so wonderfully. Football in the background. Smells swirling through my Nana's home. W.A.I.T.I.N.G.

Then, finally the fellowship of family. My aunt and uncles. My cousins. My near 100 year old GrandMomma. My dad. My mom. My little brother. My Nana & Grandpa. Stuffing balls (hehe), olives, sweet gerkins and SHIRLEY TEMPLES. Oh the SHIRLEY TEMPLES.

Christmas at home. The earliest day ever, but I'd venture to say it was also oh so worth it for my parents. It was the one day we could wake them up before dawn. Now that I am a parent, I have a whole new respect for their willingness to get out of bed SO VERY EARLY, just for us. I remember trying to wake my dad up at 4:30 a.m. once. He just nicely told me it was a bit too early. I waited patiently until about 6:00.

We woke them up EARLY. They made us W.A.I.T. while they got their coffee (Of course, I TOTALLY get that now). They wanted to see our faces as we came into the living room. Beautiful, amazing, wonderful memories.

I simply L.O.V.E.D. the holidays.

I still do. Now, I'm the one making them wait while I get my tea.

The only problem with this time of year is how it brings my childhood memories to the surface. They are wonderful. But, they are bitter sweet.

You see, those memories include four people ~ my mom, my dad, my brother and me.

As I sit here today, only two of us remain ~ my mom and me.

I can't help but get a little weepy this time of year. I turn into a big baby. I miss my Daddy. I miss my little brother. I want to wake my Daddy up at 4 in the morning again and have him tell me ever so sweetly that it is just a little bit too early. I want to wait for my Daddy to make his coffee. I want to squeal in anticipation with my little brother as we are both about to climb out of our skin. I want to hug my Daddy and feel his rough fingers as they squeeze me back. I want to see that joy in his eyes as he spends Christmas morning with the greatest thing he's ever done ~ his family. I want to joke with my Daddy and my brother in Louisville as we wait for dinner at Thanksgiving (my immediate family were the only ones who didn't watch football in those days). I want to watch as my brother makes jokes that no one gets but us. I want to watch as my Daddy shows my almost 100 year old Grandmomma the most attention she's seen in a while, as he patiently listens to all of her stories of "way back when", simply because he loves the elderly as much as he loves children and animals.

I want to step back. Just for a minute, please. I want to smell them. I want to hug them. I want to feel their arms around me.

But, I can't.

I just have to accept that and move on.

And, thankfully, God has blessed me with a beautiful distraction.

He has given me the gift of a family of my own. He has given me the opportunity to make those same memories for my own children. I must look forward. Always remember and appreciate the past, but move forward, making memories for my own children.

So, here we are.

I'm making memories for my girls. We are decorating our tree. We are making them Shirley Temples and watching football on Thanksgiving. We are making them wait just a bit longer on Christmas morning as we fix our hot beverages (Daddy drinks coffee, Momma drinks tea).

And, we're making new memories for them.

We're taking them to The Nutcracker Ballet. A real ballet. But, we're reading the book first and listening to Tchaikovsky first, so that they know what they are seeing and making connections on their own.

We're taking them scootering around the Friendship Fountain while listening to Christmas music on the loudspeakers (maybe that's Florida's version of Ice Skating in New York???).

We're taking them to Bethlehem. To see the Roman Soldiers and listen to them demand your taxes. To see the people of Bethlehem, selling their wares. To see and smell and pet all of the animals, goats, sheep, chickens, ponies, horses, donkeys and of course the camel. To see the little children of Bethlehem cooking over their fires, weaving on their looms. To hear the shofar as the Rabbi calls people to the temple. And, to the inn that had no more room. To the stable to see the live baby Jesus.

We're taking them to friends' to celebrate the season with a beautiful Advent Spiral.

We're taking them on Christmas bike parades and Christmas hay rides.

We're helping them make and wrap gifts and making hot "cocoa" (carob) and Silk Nog with nutmeg.

I will forever cherish the sights and sounds and smells of my own childhood memories.

My Daddy.

My Brother.

My Momma.

And, I can only pray that my girls will forever cherish the sights and sounds and smells of their childhood. All I can do is move forward and give them the same LOVE that I always felt from my family.

It's a beautiful time to have a family!

 

On life and loss

 

Life.

It can be so fleeting.

Here today.

Gone in an instant.

Such a fragile thing, really.

Some people are lucky enough not to realize this.  They go through their own lives, never giving death a second thought.

That was me.

Once.

Ten and a half years ago.

Not a care in the world.

Until, on that fateful morning God took my sweet little brother to be with Him.

When my husband arrived at my work to tell me, in that instant, everything changed for me.

Life became as fragile as it really is.

Then, I knew the truth.

The truth that none of us are promised tomorrow with the ones we love.

We just aren't.

Anything can happen.

It is beyond scary.  It can cripple you if you let it.  I did that once.  When I was pregnant with my first child (a year after my little brother's untimely passing), I cried every single time my husband left the house for work.  I was sure that I was watching him drive away for the very last time.  It broke me into a million little pieces.  That anxiety.  I was scared to death of losing him and raising my baby alone, not being able to share her with him, her not knowing what an amazing man her Daddy was.

Fortunately, I finally got that anxiety under control.

Then, I became a mother.

Thankfully, that changed things for me.  I became too busy to allow fear to creep into my life anymore.  I was busy nursing and changing diapers and cuddling and loving and feeding and playing with my adorable baby girl (who was named after my little brother, by the way).

Then, my world was shaken once again.

Two and a half years after losing my only sibling, I also lost my Daddy.

Eight years later, I'm still not sure I've ever dealt with that loss.  I was "too busy" to grieve "properly" at the time.  A 9 month old daughter kept me distracted.

Then, a new pregnancy.

Pregnancies, babies, pets, a loving husband, a wonderful mother, good friends.

Life kept me distracted from the reality that my family had been cut in HALF in a matter of two and a half years.

I think I eventually became somewhat numb to death (as long as it kept its distance, not taking those closest to me).

I've lost count of the losses I've endured over the past several years.

My great-grandmother died a few months after my brother.

One of my very best friends got in a car accident with his brand new wife while I was pregnant the first time and both died instantly.

Another friend of ours fell off of a balcony a year or so later and died.

Most of my Dad's family has died in the past few years ~ his mother, his sister, both his father and his step-father, aunts, etc.

My best friend lost his mother to a car accident almost two years ago.  I loved her and love her family dearly.

My mom's cousin died recently.

That same cousin's Dad's wife died recently, leaving my great-Uncle to lose both a daughter and a wife in a short time.

All of my animals have died ~ one dog died about four years ago and then I lost both cats and my other dog this year.

I could go on.  My mind has turned to mush.  I'm sure I'm forgetting something major.  I can barely keep track anymore.

I just found out yesterday that someone else I know (who has two children) was hit by a car and killed on Friday.  Her best friend (whom I also know) had to identify her body.

Then, some sweet kids (like teenager kids) I met at a concert a while back have been posting on Facebook since Friday about their best friend being missing.

His body was found this morning.

19 years old

Suicide

Takes my breath away.  At this point in my life, I am closer in age to that child's mother than to that child.  So, I immediately think of my babies.

Total heartache.

But, what can we do?

Do we allow that fear to take hold of us and hold us prisoner?

If I allow my thoughts to wonder to losing either of my babies or my husband or anyone else I love, my heart stops beating for just a moment.

If I allow my thoughts to wonder to my children losing me, my heart stops beating.

I just can't go there.  My heart isn't strong enough.

So, I won't.

With death seeming to surround me these days, all I can do is ...

LOVE more deeply,

SPEAK more kindly,

HOLD on tighter to those I love.

All I can do is GIVE THANKS each and every day for the blessings in my life and

PRAY to God that I get to enjoy these blessings forever.

What if you woke up today and only had what you'd thanked God for yesterday?

I've read that quote recently and it stopped my heart (once again).

Luckily I am one who DOES give thanks daily.

But, man does it make you stop and think.

Give thanks every day for those you love, for what you have.

Enjoy the little things.

Savor the moments.

****

It is Jewish New Year, a time to take stock of how you've been living your life, make amends and do better.  It's the perfect time to start new habits of kindness, thankfulness and love.

I know that's what I'm thinking about.