If I Had a Wig I Sure Wouldn't Put It in a Potpourri Box

One week away from Christmas. My kids are so excited. I think this is the first year that they really get what is going on. Last year they seem to understand completely, but this year we have worked really hard to explain the real meaning and we have involved them in all of the decorating and baking. Their attention spans were shorter last year and they were easily bored. I hope, with the exception of a few meltdowns and tantrums, they will finally be able to file away some permanent memories this Christmas. 

I Wonder If Alvin Ever Got That Plane

I need to feel needed.

There I said it. Time to close up shop. Carole has figured it out. No more self-analyzing, agonizing or feeling like poo. I get it all now.

When All Else Fails...Jump Off the Ledge Into a Pile of Pillows

The other day we were driving somewhere. My kids were watching something and I was in my little world behind the wheel. The question from the back seat was, “Mom, what are you afraid of?” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m afraid of either one of you getting hurt or sick. I’m afraid that I’m not doing a  good enough…..”

“But Mom, what are you afraid of?”

I Can Admit When I Am Wrong

I’m considered middle aged. I have to “highlight” my hair, take acid reducer, avoid certain foods and the print on everything has dramatically decreased. I am aging. Historically when you age you get to a point where you have wisdom, life experiences and you just kind of stop caring what others think about you and what you do. I don’t seem to be at that point completely. For the most part I don’t care what others think and I will say pretty much whatever I think. I am polite, but for me almost no subject is untouchable. If you ask, I’ll tell. Except for that one thing….(insert smiley face).

I Have a Shovel and I'm Not Afraid of Spiders!

I have moved. I am now, again, a homeowner and I am beyond thrilled. I love my home and the space and the lock on the bathroom door. I love the peace.

Good Bye Ugly Naked Guy, This Spider is Blowin' Away

I’m on the move…….again. Not today, but we are days away from finally moving to our new house. People keep asking me if I am excited. I don’t know what I am. I’m sure excitement is in there, but I don’t feel exactly like I thought I would feel.

A Broken Toe, An Ugly Naked Guy and Nothin' But Time

Sometimes I say I have nothing to say and it turns out that I do. Sometimes I have too much to say and I can’t focus. This is one of those times.

A friend just wrote a blog about how much can change in just a short time. She is right. Change is the key word, the dreaded word in my mind. 

Please Raise Your Glass in Honor of This Family

This isn’t my usual, self-centered, self-evaluating entry. This entry is about a family who is celebrating the life of their wonderful husband, father, brother and friend. I am not family, I don’t even know him. We are “friends” on Facebook, but really haven’t had much contact. I have chatted with his lovely wife on several occasions. Again, I don’t know her, we just have a few things in common. She has read my blog and she has supported my efforts with Million Dollars for Mom. She and her husband are Purple Warriors and he is about to travel to his next adventure.

Did You Know There Are 52 Letters in the Alphabet?

My quest to find my happy self has hit a snag. I knew it would, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon and be so big to me. I will say I am happier than I have been but my heart aches and my stomach is turning.

My babies are going to start kindergarten in a week. I know what you are thinking. Kids go off to school each year. It is just life. They will be fine, most kids are. They will blossom, most kids do. 

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

As Long As I Have My Spyglass....I Can Figure It Out!

I’ve asked this question many times and I think I have even written about it before.

What makes people happy? Not the casual kind of happy, the all is right in my life and I only find joy kind of happy.

Construction Zone

I am in the process of changing up my blog. I hope you don't mind the dead links, but I am hoping to have them up and running soon. If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them. In the meantime, please look around. Some things are working smoothly.

I've Forgotton That I Love Color

There comes a time in the grieving/moving on process where a person has to “let go”.

I am at that point. The real question is what does let go mean? Change.

Do You Put the Pretty Side Up or Down?

When my dad calls the name on my phone says “Mom”. I need to change that but I just can’t. I’m frustrated because I am hanging on to silly things. It’s a name on my phone. What is wrong with me?

She's My Princess

I’m being followed. Not by someone, that would be easy to get rid of. I think what is following me is worse. I’ll come back to it in a bit.

I’ve said many times, the worst day of my life was the day my mom called and told me that she had pancreatic cancer and that it couldn’t be fixed. That day plays over and over in my head. It won’t go away and I wish with all my might that I could go back and erase that horrible, tragic day. I can’t. I’ve also said that I quickly started my research and based on the facts as I knew them, I accepted what was happening. I said I was never angry at God and I meant it. More about that a little later too.

When You are Sailing, What Happens When There Is No Wind?

I have written quite a lot over the past year. Sharing so publicly is not something that is typical of me. I share in person with people. Actual people I can see. Sending my thoughts, feelings and everything else out over the internet for the world to read isn’t me. Still isn’t comfortable. But I have found that it is helping me. I wonder if it helps anyone else.

I Was Just a Spoiled Child

Most of my adult life, I have only asked for help from two people. I don’t like to ask for help. I know for many things I need it, but asking for it just makes me feel like I am weak or lazy or that I am just not cut out for whatever it is I am needing help with. My husband is pretty good at knowing when I need help. My mom was too. She was the greatest helper a daughter could want. I must admit that I didn’t always want her help, but she always knew just what to do.

Pomp and Circumstance....And Zippers

Strange how life works. I say this all the time because really it is strange. It is a simple concept, you are born, you live, you die. It is black and white. The middle one is where all the confusion, heartache and laughter happen. As they say, it is just how life goes.

An Asthmatic Should Never Forget That She is an Asthmatic

All of my life I have wanted to fly. Not so much in a plane, but to really fly like the birds. Sounds crazy and maybe it is. I did all of the usual stuff that kids do. I tried to make wings. I would jump off of the swing set with an umbrella. Nothing allowed me to soar. I never even floated.

A Poem Worth Repeating

When I was young you were there every day.

How Do You Read the End of a Book That Hasn't Been Written?

Ever get that feeling in the pit of your stomach that seems to tell you that you are in the wrong place and you need to get out? Well I had that feeling today and it was followed by a few tears and just a feeling of potential failure.

Funny this has nothing to do with my mom. It has to do with my kids. For the past year, we have been researching, searching, and pondering where to send our kids to school. I’m guessing that most feel that there is a simple answer here, but we don’t. I taught in public school for a while and my level of like was not as high as I think it should have been. I’ve worked with some wonderful educators and I have worked with some average babysitters. Harsh I know but it is the truth. I’ve seen what goes on inside. I’ve seen amazing levels of learning and I have seen more than enough disappointing “just move them on.” I have preconceived ideas and they are battling in my head.

I said a while ago that my kids have a story. Those who are close know the pressure that I have put on myself to make sure they have every opportunity, every experience and loads and loads of love. Everyone feels the same I’m sure. 

Back to my original feeling.

I went to the school that my kids are registered to go to for kindergarten. There were some forms that I needed to pick up and it gave me a small glimpse of a full, public school. I saw teachers, I saw parents (who I might add were extremely “made up”). I was underdressed and I forgot my jewelry. I have to laugh at that because I really don’t care about froo-frooey stuff. I care about my mission at the moment. It must have been western day or something because some of the kids had cowboy hats on and there was a pile of hay sitting out. As I stood there, I imagined my babies walking in line with the others. I tried to imagine what they would be thinking. Would they be glad they were there or would they hate it? I know, kids don’t think like that. More likely, they would be thinking about who they would play with outside or what project they would be making in art or just not thinking and simply walking in line. 

The heavy duty thinking is mine.

I don’t know if I have expressed this clearly but, I am full of self-doubt and I am too hard on myself. I can’t help it. I question each decision and then analyze the results.

My question is, how do I know I am doing the right thing for my kids? Every cell in me says no to public school. We have looked elsewhere and have not found anything that fits what we are looking for. We have also discovered that private costs for one are crazy high and the discount for the second child is usually minimal. Public school or homeschool are the only options right now. But which is the right answer?

In the beginning, when we would take our kids for their doctor appointments I would always ask the doctor, “have I screwed them up yet?” He has always been reassuring and has always said, “not yet.” I know the only way to know if I have done a good job is to wait until they are grown and they can reflect on their upbringing. (Side note here. I say “I” because from my perspective, my husband is doing a wonderful job. He doesn’t panic, he doesn’t worry about barfing. He is a world class dad in every way). I on the other hand want to know how it turns out before it actually turns out

.

How do you read the end of a book that hasn’t been written? 

What if I mess this up? What if sending them to this school is the wrong thing? What if one day they say, “Mom, I never like that school?” Reality….they won’t ever say that. I didn’t. As my mom always said, “Carole, you are borrowing trouble.” 

I worry about them all the time. Not about falling off of their bicycles, but about whether or not they will enjoy the life that we are providing for them. Will they look back when they are my age with fond, loving memories or will they be full of unanswered questions? Time will tell. I don’t like clocks and calendars overwhelm me. 

Here is the truth as I see it. I have two very special gifts that I am responsible for. In the beginning their lives depended on me. That was a responsibility that was more than I expected. Yes, their lives are still in my hands, but they can potty on their own and I catch them looking in the fridge for snacks when I tell them no. The level of need for me is a teensy bit smaller. Before I know it they won’t need me to take care of them. Before I know it, they will be on their own. Time goes by so fast.

So you see, the problem is mine. I know it and I want to solve it. There is the second problem, it is an unsolvable problem. 

I’m not the first mom to want to hang on to my children’s innocence. I know that and I know it is okay to feel this way. Today was a reminder that I am going to have to release my grip and for the second time in my life, my heart truly broke. 

Being a parent is so hard. Being a parent without my mom makes it harder. 

I said this has nothing to do with my mom. Really it has everything to do with her. She isn’t here to reassure me. She isn’t here to lend support. My husband and I are a team but what goes on inside my head is all me. This week has been hard and I have missed my mom. If she were here, I would tell her that she did a great job. Almost all of the choices she made for me throughout my life were perfect. I say almost all because one time she spanked me and I really didn’t deserve it. My mom had it figured out. She made it look easy.

So it seems that the decision about school is made. They will start kindergarten in public school. My husband says that we will reevaluate it after they have started. I am sad today but not as sad as I will be when I drop them off on the first day. They won’t know because, like my mom, I won’t show it. I will put on my super happy face.

I know I am trying my best and I know I haven’t scarred them. I will always worry, question and wonder. I will always look for the best possible solution. My mom once said, right after my babies came, all they need is for you to take care of them and love them. All I can say right now is that I’m trying.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

http://lustgarten.org/page.aspx?pid=839&tab=0&frsid=17109

Change, Change and More Change...Wish It Was the Silver Kind

I have come to a realization about myself. I am stronger than I thought.

Today marks the one year anniversary since I last saw my mom. One year ago today at around 4:30am she stopped breathing. I’m told it wasn’t that black and white but I wasn’t there so I am choosing to believe that she just faded away. It helps me. I will admit that when the phone rang early  that night I asked my husband to answer. My dad was on the other end and said that it wouldn’t be long. For some reason, I fell back asleep knowing that she would be gone when I woke up. It was the only thing I could do. No thoughts, no tears, just sleep.

CAROLE DENISE!

Tragedies happen all the time. Some may think that they are only considered tragedies if they happen on a large scale. I happen to think that anything that jars your life, changes your direction without permission in a way that can only be viewed as tragic can be considered a tragedy.

  

A bombing, an explosion or a diagnosis of an incurable disease. These are all tragedies, some just have more people involved. Before I delve into my own self-evaluation, I want to say that I hate tragedies and I wish we could avoid all of them. I pray for the people in Boston and also for the people in the tiny town of West, Texas. I also pray for all of my PC family. We have all experienced our own very similar levels of tragedy.

It is a given that there will be more. It is a given that people will die and those of us left here will be awarded the difficult, often impossible task of making sense and moving on.

The question is, how does one do that? That has been my task.

How am I doing that?

I’m sure there is more to it but I believe I can give much of the credit to my very patient husband. He might not agree but I do think that if it wasn’t for him, I would be sitting in a corner wondering what to do. He lost his dad a while ago, he knows what I have been going through. I think that has helped. He also knows the relationship that I had with my mom. He never made fun or criticized. He embraced it and became part of our little group

.

My mom absolutely loved my husband. He was a son to her and she loved to tell the story of how we met, fell in love and how he “saved” me from a less desirable relationship. He likes to say that he stole me away. Twenty years later, he still says the same thing.

I also believe that my friends and my Mom2 have saved me from the constant wallowing that I tend to get stuck in. I have met many people this last year, oddly enough through the social media that I loathe. Two stand out. They feel like family. They know how I feel and as sad as that is, it is so very comforting to this silly girl. Someday I hope to meet them and give them a hug. I hope you two know who you are.

As the anniversary gets closer, I find that I am having more trouble. I hate change and it seems that this year has been full of all the evil that lies within that word. 

Why should that day, that very terrible day be any different? Yes it was the day my mom breathed her last breath. It’s not like it was a surprise. I believe she left days before. Still, I’m sad. I’m tired of being sad.

I don’t know what I expected this milestone to feel like. I’m not there so maybe I’ll figure it out. I do know that I never expected to be dealing with this at this point in my life. I bet everyone says the same thing, “I thought we had more time.” Well I did and we didn’t.

So strange, one minute you are chugging along and then next, a doctor is saying there is no hope, then the next you are at the final gala, remembering. Oh the memories. That’s all we have when they leave. Good thing and I am so very glad for that.

I long for the advice my mom would so willingly give. I long for a hug, a smile and a simple pat on my hand. I would even welcome the heart stopping way she would say “CAROLE DENISE!” Funny, just typing that makes me shudder. It almost always meant that I did something I shouldn’t have. The good thing is that most of the time when I walk through the memories I find myself smiling. That is definitely progress. My tears come when I let myself remember how she went from a lively, energetic and self-sufficient mom to a quiet, exhausted and dependent victim of pancreatic cancer. That’s the tragedy here. Surprisingly enough, it isn’t that she left, it is the pain and suffering that lead up to it. Most PC victims go through it. Tragic.

This has been a dark and lonely year that I had hoped would never come. Through it all, through all of the tears, I have kept my feet moving. I think that is the key. This year isn’t over and I really don’t know how the next couple of weeks will play out. I intend to just live the best I can. We will see.

Life goes on whether we like it or not. It’s what we do that separates us from our own successes and our heartbreaking despair. 

 http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

I Am Lacking Gumption and I Won't Pee in the Woods

I seem to be at a loss for words these days. I know it’s hard to believe, but sometimes I just don’t know what to say.

I knew this past year was going to be hard. I think I didn’t have a clue how hard. I’ve marked each milestone and analyzed every feeling, emotion and event. Today I don’t know where I am in my process. Maybe that’s why I feel a little quiet. The problem is that I don’t know where I am supposed to be right now. Should I be over her death? Should I be hanging on to every moment spent without her? There isn’t a clear picture here. 

The fact is, I am not over her death and I don’t hang on to every moment that I spend here without her. 

In the beginning it was constant. I was sad and I was lost. After a while I was sad but not every second of the day.  Now it comes in waves and it comes when I’m not expecting it. This is just a guess but I think at some point, way down the road, I will only feel sad on certain days. In a strange way, that makes me sad.

The other day we were cleaning up our video camera. I am a picture person so looking at videos isn’t something that I typically do. My husband told me my mom was on the camera. Without thinking, I started watching. It was my children’s third birthday party. It was the last my mom would see.

There she was, doing what she always did. There on that tiny screen, was my mom. So full of life, so full of energy. She was alive. She was smiling.

Without my realizing it, the tears started flowing. All I could say was, “there she is.”

I say I don’t need pictures or videos. All I have to do is close my eyes. I see her, I hear her. I loved that video. I hadn’t seen her in almost a year. She was beautiful.

I have not seen my mom in almost a year. Wow! Those are words I never thought I would type, say or even think. I have not seen my mom in almost a year. How many times can I type that before the reality hits. I can’t tell you how powerful that sentence is at this moment. More tears. The words are just hanging. The emptiness is back and my stomach feels like it dropped. Until this very moment, I have not thought about how long it has been since I’ve seen her. 

For the second time I say, I am at a loss for words. 

I don’t know if watching that video was the right thing to do. It doesn’t matter because I watched. I don’t feel any worse but I also don’t feel any better. I don’t know how I feel. I do know that when I was watching, I didn’t see anyone else except her. She was the main character. 

I miss my mom.

We talked every day of my life.

I don’t feel like analyzing my feelings here. They are whatever they are and all I can do it put one foot in front of the other in the hopes that I make progress. 

I do know that I am disappointed in myself. I am not looking for pity or even a pep-talk. I feel how I feel. 

Over the past couple of months I have let go of Million Dollars for Mom. I haven’t asked for money, ideas or help. I haven’t worn purple much and I have avoided the tragic stories that sound identical to mine. I retreated inside my bubble. I’ve been oddly warm and cozy. I could stay here but then the disappointment that I feel would eat at me. I’ve let a lot of people down and I am so sorry. 

A million dollars is the goal. Someone said it was a lofty goal. I think it is a necessary number. It means more than anyone will ever know. I lost my momentum, I’ve lost my drive. Somehow I have to get it back. I have no clue.

My friend is walking across America in the name of PC awareness and research. He has momentum and drive. I can’t and really don’t want to do what he is doing. It takes a special person to commit to that. Also, this silly girl doesn’t pee in the woods or stay in motels. He is making a difference in a dramatic way. I am proud of him and I hope he can bottle some of his gumption and loan it to me. He is an inspiration.

No, I’m not going to walk across America. I am going to keep asking and I am going to raise a million dollars. I hope that once that goal is reached, someone will be able to use it to find a cure. PC scares me, but it also drains me. I’m tired of it and I have to get moving again. 

I miss my mom and if PC had not invaded her body, she would be here to tell me which school my kids should go to. She would be picking out fabric for my house, she would be alive. I hate all cancers but mostly this one. It’s evil and almost 100% of the time, it kills.

If you haven’t donated, please click on the link below and do so. If you have donated, do it again. Give until it hurts. I am.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive

What Did You Do Last Easter?

We were sitting in church yesterday listening to the announcements for the upcoming week. I’m not involved in this church yet (not even members yet) so I let my mind drift. (I will explain the first part of that sentence later). 

Easter is coming.

It hasn’t been a huge holiday in my family for a long time. Oh sure we would gather at my mom’s, eat a spiral ham and hunt eggs. That was about it. The religious meanings were mostly absent. I never understood why. My mom was our spiritual leader, the rest of us just sort of followed her lead and blindly did what she told us to do. Probably not the best situation, but for some reason, I knew God was with her but we never discussed details. We didn’t casually talk about religion. Questions were answered if asked, but for the most part they were never asked. We casually went to church, that she picked out. We weren’t faithful church attenders. When we did go, it was uncomfortable for me. I never felt like I fit in at the churches she chose. I never blamed her, she was trying to get us to church in the hopes that we would learn and accept. I understand that especially now.

We grew up going to Baptist churches and being “saved” was the way to go. I remember hearing horror stories of folks that said no to being saved and on the way home from church they were killed. God scared me. Letting go of my control scared me. 

I was “saved” in the eleventh grade. I was not baptized and that bothered my mom. I understood but I couldn’t join a church that I didn’t feel comfortable in. 

I searched for many years.

A couple of years ago we found an okay kind of church. We visited a lot and thought it was the best we could do. We talked about joining, but still we weren’t faithful churchgoers. 

September 20, 2011. My mom was diagnosed. Suddenly being baptized took on a whole new meaning. 

Over the next year I watched my mom become more outwardly spiritual. It was what I needed. I had been studying various aspects of Heaven, the Bible and meanings for years. She knew that and we would talk off and on about what I was discovering. It was the part of our relationship that I grew to love. We never dug deep, but we talked and that was enough. During her battle, we dug. We read and talked. We talked a lot about Heaven and a lot about what life would be like, after. She knew I was searching for a church home. She knew I was struggling with where my family belonged. She knew about the okay church. My not being baptized was heavy on her heart. 

Yesterday I realized what I was doing a year ago on Easter Sunday. My kids and I were baptized. It was a different baptism than I grew up seeing, but we were baptized in a private ceremony in the pastor’s office. My husband set it up. He explained what was happening in our lives and the pastor was honored to give us and my mom this gift.

Mom wasn’t there. She had begun to decline and was saddened that she couldn’t come.

But in classic “Mom” fashion, she said she was going to need proof that we went through with it. I understood what she meant and as soon as I could, I showed her our certificate and picture.

My mom smiled. At that point, smiling wasn’t something she did much of. 

I made my mom smile. What more could I want.

It has been almost a year since she left here. I have spent that time searching for a church home and answers to my questions. I’ve found a church home. It is where I am supposed to be. I have questions like most and I am reading to find the answers. So far I am making progress. We are going to join and our intentions are to get involved in as many activities there as we can. Our kids need this, we need this. 

My husband will tell you that he is proud of all the searching that I have done over the past year. He will also tell you that I have worked hard and come a long way. I don’t know if he is right, but I am trying. I have questions about God, Heaven and the Bible. I am looking for answers. One question that bothers me is this, if my mom had not had pancreatic cancer, if my mom had not suffered, would I be searching so hard for those answers right now. That one is tough. She told me to be a good Christian. Twenty years ago I would have shrugged that off. Today, I understand. It doesn’t mean I am making good on her request, but I am a work in progress and I will keep working.

This has been the longest year of my life. I would say that it has felt like a lifetime but I’m not at the end of my life yet. We/I have been through so much. Some I have shared, some I have not. I’ve struggled, cried, complained, moaned and groaned. Through it all I have wondered, “what was the point?” I still don’t know. There are lessons everywhere to be learned. I can’t figure this one out. If my mom was still here, life would be complete. She isn’t here. Instead, she died a horrific death from a deadly beast that has no cure. We watched as it starved her of everything.

 What is the lesson? God knows. I’m going to keep asking. 

On a lighter note, thank you for the prayers for my son. He was given a clean bill of health today. No rheumatic fever, just a strange reaction to the medication. He did get to see his heart and that made his day. He asked what the white stuff on the ultrasound was. We told him the outer edges of his heart. The he asked what the black spaces were inside. I told him that was where his heart stores all the love. 

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/evamckinney/KeeptheMemoryAlive