Today is the tomorrow you were worried about yesterday. Was it worth it? – Siddhartha
I had a great weekend. On Saturday I took the girls to the lake for a little while and they got to swim and play in the water. It was joyous to soak up a couple hours of sunlight and bask in the glow of their smiles. Today my mom met me at the Home and Garden Show and then we decided to head over to a local BBQ joint to hear some live music that the local radio show was broadcasting. The girls were gloriously behaved all day. It was exactly the kind of weekend that Andie and I loved. The reason we chose to live in the quaint little town that always has some fun activity going on.
On the way home I was thinking to myself that this was the first time in a long time that I have felt like life really might be worth it after all. I felt like there might actually be things to look forward to. We walked in the door and mom flipped the switch to turn on the kitchen light. Another bulb blew. The first in many, many weeks. I smiled and cried a little thinking he must be with us enjoying the perfect weekend and just wanted to let us know he was here.
I actually cooked a real meal for dinner. Only the third or fourth time I’ve done it since Andie passed. It felt good to feel like a “real mom” who actually puts a home cooked meal on the table and eats with her kids. Usually I throw together kid food and then skip dinner for myself. Tonight I savored the tilapia and zucchini (“nini” as the kids call it). It was one of Andie’s favorite dishes of mine.
After bath time the girls were giddy. They horse played and loved on each other for about 30 minutes straight- giggling the whole time. As any mother knows, there is no better sound than that of your children’s laughter. I even got some spontaneous kisses out of them. Bonus!
All in all it was a wonderful weekend, one in which I found some joy.
Of course there was a huge piece missing, but for once I was able to not focus on that.
I was able to focus on what was actually in front of me.
And for once I was able to not worry about tomorrow…
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Sunday, April 10, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Believe...
Truth is simply whatever you bring yourself to believe. – Alice Childress
Not long after Andie died I read a couple books pertaining to signs that our loved ones give us from the other side. I was terrified of missing some sign or communication due to lack of knowledge about the subject. One of the most common ways that our loved ones communicate, according to both books I read, is through electrical currents. Often flickering lights, or burned out lights, or things turning on and off for no apparent reason.
Four months after Andie died I decided to have the kitchen backsplash tiled. It was something he and I had discussed many times but never did because he didn't want to spend the money. He thought it was frivolous. When the tile guy came to give me the bid and measure the backsplash we discussed why I was deciding to do it. I jokingly said that I was doing it because my husband never wanted me to and now he wasn't around anymore to tell me "no". That day one of the recessed lights in the kitchen went out. We've never had any of the recessed lights go out in this house since we moved in. When it happened I joked that it was Andie's way of giving me a sign that he still disapproved of having the backsplash done. I replaced the bulb and didn't think anything of it again. A couple of weeks later the guys showed up to actually install the backsplash. That day another bulb blew out; a completely different one from the first one. And I started to really wonder if it was in fact a sign from Andie.
I have since had between 6-8 light bulbs go out in my kitchen in the last 6 months alone. The last two that burned out I never replaced because I got scared that I must have an electrical short and I didn't want to risk a fire. They've been burned out for several weeks now.
I had an electrician come to the house today to take a look. He checked the switches that turn the lights on. Both were perfectly fine. Then he went into the attic to make sure there wasn't a short, or a wiring problem. All looked good- so good that he complimented how great of a job the electrician that wired the house had done. I showed him the light bulbs I have been using to make sure I wasn't buying the wrong kind or wrong wattage. They were exactly what I needed according to him.
He said he had no reasonable explanation for why my lights would randomly be burning out. He said it was "strange" that it wasn't always the same light, and that it wasn't always burning out in the same way. For instance, sometimes they burn out after they've been on for a while, and other times when they've been off and you flip the switch they pop and go out. He said sometimes recessed lights go out when they overheat but then they come back on. He'd never heard of them popping and blowing like mine do, and he couldn't think of a reason that this would be happening. He said he'd talk with some other electricians that he knew to see if they had ever come across this problem, but it was nothing he could fix because there was nothing even wrong. Everything looked perfect.
"There's one more thing I want to tell you," he said before he left. "You're a really good mother. You're so attentive to your girls." I was almost brought to tears by the sincerity of the compliment, and by the fact that it was so out of context from the rest of our conversation. Especially since he had only been in my house and able to observe me with my kids for a couple of hours. I have to admit that for half a second I wondered if Andie was speaking to me through this man, perhaps sending me a message...
The fervor to see signs from Andie isn't as strong anymore.
I feel more content with the unknown than I did in the early days when answers and absolutes seemed necessary.
I still don't know what I believe about signs from the other side.
I'm still trying to find my own truth in that.
But I have to admit that after what happened today, my interest is piqued...
Not long after Andie died I read a couple books pertaining to signs that our loved ones give us from the other side. I was terrified of missing some sign or communication due to lack of knowledge about the subject. One of the most common ways that our loved ones communicate, according to both books I read, is through electrical currents. Often flickering lights, or burned out lights, or things turning on and off for no apparent reason.
Four months after Andie died I decided to have the kitchen backsplash tiled. It was something he and I had discussed many times but never did because he didn't want to spend the money. He thought it was frivolous. When the tile guy came to give me the bid and measure the backsplash we discussed why I was deciding to do it. I jokingly said that I was doing it because my husband never wanted me to and now he wasn't around anymore to tell me "no". That day one of the recessed lights in the kitchen went out. We've never had any of the recessed lights go out in this house since we moved in. When it happened I joked that it was Andie's way of giving me a sign that he still disapproved of having the backsplash done. I replaced the bulb and didn't think anything of it again. A couple of weeks later the guys showed up to actually install the backsplash. That day another bulb blew out; a completely different one from the first one. And I started to really wonder if it was in fact a sign from Andie.
I have since had between 6-8 light bulbs go out in my kitchen in the last 6 months alone. The last two that burned out I never replaced because I got scared that I must have an electrical short and I didn't want to risk a fire. They've been burned out for several weeks now.
I had an electrician come to the house today to take a look. He checked the switches that turn the lights on. Both were perfectly fine. Then he went into the attic to make sure there wasn't a short, or a wiring problem. All looked good- so good that he complimented how great of a job the electrician that wired the house had done. I showed him the light bulbs I have been using to make sure I wasn't buying the wrong kind or wrong wattage. They were exactly what I needed according to him.
He said he had no reasonable explanation for why my lights would randomly be burning out. He said it was "strange" that it wasn't always the same light, and that it wasn't always burning out in the same way. For instance, sometimes they burn out after they've been on for a while, and other times when they've been off and you flip the switch they pop and go out. He said sometimes recessed lights go out when they overheat but then they come back on. He'd never heard of them popping and blowing like mine do, and he couldn't think of a reason that this would be happening. He said he'd talk with some other electricians that he knew to see if they had ever come across this problem, but it was nothing he could fix because there was nothing even wrong. Everything looked perfect.
"There's one more thing I want to tell you," he said before he left. "You're a really good mother. You're so attentive to your girls." I was almost brought to tears by the sincerity of the compliment, and by the fact that it was so out of context from the rest of our conversation. Especially since he had only been in my house and able to observe me with my kids for a couple of hours. I have to admit that for half a second I wondered if Andie was speaking to me through this man, perhaps sending me a message...
The fervor to see signs from Andie isn't as strong anymore.
I feel more content with the unknown than I did in the early days when answers and absolutes seemed necessary.
I still don't know what I believe about signs from the other side.
I'm still trying to find my own truth in that.
But I have to admit that after what happened today, my interest is piqued...
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Thinking of you...
This time of year is hard-It was our favorite time of year. The weather is turning nice and we loved to be outdoors more. You loved to BBQ and talk walks around the neighborhood. You liked sprucing up the yard…taking pride in how it looked. The wildflowers are blooming. The hill country becomes pretty again. The changing of the seasons reminds me that I am edging closer to the time last year when you died. I’m flooded with memories of things. It seems almost anything these days can make me think of you. Do you think of us too? Are you still here?
I wonder if I will always have you so fresh on my brain and readily accessible. So much reminds me of you.
I’ll think of you when…
I eat ice cream
I smell the familiar aroma of a grill lighting up
I hear a fish jump at the lake
I seem someone wearing the kind of fishing shirts you had taken to wearing, almost exclusively
I see a jeep
And I’ll think of you when…
I drive down hill country roads always scanning to look for deer or other wildlife like you used to do
I see a center console fishing boat- just the kind you always admired.
I pass a Dairy Queen that has their blizzard of the month posted on the marquee
I see a police car crest a hill on the horizon in oncoming traffic. It still makes my heart stop for a split second thinking it could be you…
I sit on the dock at the lakehouse soaking up the sun, feeling your presence
I hear the familiar rumble of a loud truck down the street
I eat at Herbert’s Taco Hut or make spaghetti- your favorite dish of mine
I replace the empty toilet paper roll
I load the dishwasher…trying my hardest to do it as you taught me. To pack in as much as possible
And I’ll think of you when…
Summer rolls around- our favorite time of year.
Someone mentions Texas Hold ‘em, and I remember the time we went to Port Aransas to gamble on the boat there and I forgot my ID and we had to drive all the way back to where we were staying to get it because they wouldn’t let me on the boat without it. You were so irritated with me and teased me about it ever since.
When someone mentions the border or Del Rio. We had a horrible trip there but laughed about it for years afterward.
I see a weimaraner. I gave you a weim puppy for our first anniversary. We took him to Kerrville for a weekend get away (against your wishes and better judgment) and had to come home in the middle of the night when he threw up on us in the bed. We laughed about that one for years too.
When I'm tired and being an only parent seems unbearable
And I’ll especially think of you when…
I look at our children and hear them laugh and watch them grow into beautiful women- the kind you’d be proud of
I wake and realize your side of the bed is still empty
I finally make a decision about whether or not to keep pursuing our dreams, or start making some of my own
I have to make the hard decisions in life…and the easy ones too
I will think of you when…
One day, I have found myself again
And I will think of you too, when the bluebonnets bloom…
I wonder if I will always have you so fresh on my brain and readily accessible. So much reminds me of you.
I’ll think of you when…
I eat ice cream
I smell the familiar aroma of a grill lighting up
I hear a fish jump at the lake
I seem someone wearing the kind of fishing shirts you had taken to wearing, almost exclusively
I see a jeep
And I’ll think of you when…
I drive down hill country roads always scanning to look for deer or other wildlife like you used to do
I see a center console fishing boat- just the kind you always admired.
I pass a Dairy Queen that has their blizzard of the month posted on the marquee
I see a police car crest a hill on the horizon in oncoming traffic. It still makes my heart stop for a split second thinking it could be you…
I sit on the dock at the lakehouse soaking up the sun, feeling your presence
I hear the familiar rumble of a loud truck down the street
I eat at Herbert’s Taco Hut or make spaghetti- your favorite dish of mine
I replace the empty toilet paper roll
I load the dishwasher…trying my hardest to do it as you taught me. To pack in as much as possible
And I’ll think of you when…
Summer rolls around- our favorite time of year.
Someone mentions Texas Hold ‘em, and I remember the time we went to Port Aransas to gamble on the boat there and I forgot my ID and we had to drive all the way back to where we were staying to get it because they wouldn’t let me on the boat without it. You were so irritated with me and teased me about it ever since.
When someone mentions the border or Del Rio. We had a horrible trip there but laughed about it for years afterward.
I see a weimaraner. I gave you a weim puppy for our first anniversary. We took him to Kerrville for a weekend get away (against your wishes and better judgment) and had to come home in the middle of the night when he threw up on us in the bed. We laughed about that one for years too.
When I'm tired and being an only parent seems unbearable
And I’ll especially think of you when…
I look at our children and hear them laugh and watch them grow into beautiful women- the kind you’d be proud of
I wake and realize your side of the bed is still empty
I finally make a decision about whether or not to keep pursuing our dreams, or start making some of my own
I have to make the hard decisions in life…and the easy ones too
I will think of you when…
One day, I have found myself again
And I will think of you too, when the bluebonnets bloom…
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