It's That Season Again...

 It's that season again, and my two remaining school-aged babes have started another year of school. My Ella girl woke up an eager ninth grade student with Georgia Connections Academy and the baby of the family, my sweet Jacob, a fifth grader with the Empower program. First year of high school and last year of elementary school. My goodness...that happened far too quickly!

    Gabriel surprised his little sister and brother with bakery cinnamon rolls, to make their first morning of school just a little extra special. They went to bed anxious about starting a new school year, but as I listened to them laughing with one another at our kitchen table, gobbling down their cinnamon-sugary breakfast surprise, with no signs of anxiousness on their faces, I knew that God heard my prayers for them and was answering them. I think it's going to be another great year for these two! 

    Backing up just a teeny bit, our fur-baby, Roscoe, got himself a fractured toe and sprained hock (basically a dog ankle). By the way that fella was acting, I was convinced that it was far worse than what it was. Scared us silly! This is something that, before losing Darrell, I wouldn't have been able to handle well. But I remained calm for the kid's sake and took my ailing pup to the vet.

 I'd like to be able to tell you that I didn't once think "I REALLY wish he was here to help me handle this." but I'd be fibbing. I thought it over and over as I was placing my screaming pup into the carrier, and as the room filled with hysterical cries, from the kids, for me to hurry and fix it all. It's literally by the grace of God, alone, that I stayed as calm as I did and was able to calm them in the process. Three weeks later and I'm happy to report that Roscoe has made a full recovery and back to running at high speeds to jump on the couches, again, every time someone shows up here!

    It's been ten and a half months. I still spend many restless nights praying for sleep. My chromebook can often be found on the side that was once occupied by his warm body, purposefully filling that now all too empty spot. It's speakers fill the silence with my rad playlist. ;)

The agony of grief has somehow turned into acceptance, though. And, while nothing still feels quite right anymore, we're doing okay. We are much stronger than I think any of us realized we were before all of this. I cleaned out this kitchen drawer that he kind of took full possession over, as storage for his tools, despite having a large toolbox in his garage. I jokingly nagged  him about that blasted drawer, constantly. I hadn't opened it in probably a year. I avoided it like a plague. One morning I came to this sudden realization that I can decide where those tools go and what happens to that messy drawer. So I pulled the entire drawer out, and placed it on the table. There were loose nails, wrenches, screwdrivers, paint pens (he always forgot to leave these at work and constantly came home with them in his pockets), a half of a pack of his favorite gum, work goggles, locks, and such. I threw away what needed to be discarded and took the rest to his toolbox. It felt like such an odd thing to be doing, almost disrespectful....but I can't keep living in that mindset. He's not coming back and the last thing on his soul, today, is his old "junk drawer". It's currently empty because, while I was able to clean it out, I wasn't quite ready to fill it up with other things. But I think I'll make that a small priority this week. Baby steps. 

    One of my fellow widow friends reached out to me today with desperation in her words. It's been six and a half months since she and her young boys lost her husband to covid. They've hit a pretty rough emotional patch in their grieving process so, if you feel so inclined, please pray along with me for that sweet three. 

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are given by God."  

                                               -2 Corinthians 1:3-4   

Relishing in His goodness...

Christy 

IStndAmzd79@gmail.com

                                                                                                                                                              

A Letter to My Late Husband on Father's Day

     Dear husband of mine, 

    Typing this letter out to you feels just as surreal as writing your eulogy felt, last year. I don't remember much from the day you left this world, but I do remember one of the things that mama said to me, "He's leaving a legacy in the form of precious children and you get the pleasure of raising them." I got the best of you when you gave me our babies.

 I'd take the heartache a gazillion times over if it meant we'd get to create such precious little souls together. I couldn't have fathomed I'd still be raising any of them when you left this world, though. 

    We didn't get to serve you breakfast in bed, or go swimming with you, or have a big cookout...all of the simple things that made you the happiest every Father's Day. But you were on our minds and in our hearts all day. I pray that you felt all of our love to you from here. I can only imagine that while you probably didn't celebrate an occasion such as Father's Day, up there today, that this was the best Father's Day you've ever had. 

    Days, like today, make me so thankful that Revelations 21:4 tells us that "And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be anymore pain, for the former things have passed away." I'm thankful that you can't feel the sorrow that your passing left behind. Our littlest guy has had a tough day. They all have, really. I can't fix it. All that I can do is pray and love on them. Each time I see them cry, though, I can't help but to feel as though my efforts will never be enough. I'm trying so incredibly hard to make their lives a little easier and their grief process more bearable. I feel incredibly weak, today. Even as I spill these words from my heart, I know that you can't feel this despair and I'm glad that you can't.

My plan, to celebrate you, was to have the kids write you letters on lanterns to send up into the sky...but Jacob wasn't emotionally ready for that. So, we did it tonight (Monday, the day after Father's Day...why does it always take me so long just to do one post, these days?) instead. The kids really seemed to enjoy doing that for you.

 My prayer is that it helped them, even if in just a small way. It was emotional for me. I thought my knees would give out as I lit my lantern and let it go. It's such a small insignificant gesture, I suppose, but it felt like saying goodbye again. I've said goodbye to you a million times, it seems, in these past ten months. I don't know when that stops but I know that it hasn't gotten any easier. 

    I constantly thanked you in life, but I can't help but continue to thank you for making sure that your wife and children (including ones who weren't biologically yours) were always taken care of. I am forever grateful for the life we created together. Loving and missing you on this first Father's Day without you, and for all of my remaining days. 

Relishing in His goodness...

Christy 

IStndAmzd79@gmail.com

The Fact of the Matter

    

     You learn so much about yourself after experiencing trauma and loss. Coping mechanisms, for example. 

    Today, an advertisement came on for a show that he loved. One I had put out of mind since his passing. Within seconds, I found myself zooming backwards in time to a Saturday morning with him sat on the couch watching his favorite food show. Every once in a while, he'd glance over at me with one of his famous closed-mouthed smiles. The tears came without warning as Ella popped her head up, from the other couch and said, "That reminds me of daddy, Mama." It all happened so fast that I found myself trying to understand the "why" of everything. I realized that part of my coping strategy was to, inadvertently, put out of mind all of the things that reminded me of him. I haven't watched any of his shows. I can't listen to his favorite radio station. I don't want to know about the Braves or Georgia Bulldogs. I avoid cooking his favorite meals. I can't stand going into my closet because I see his work shirts and shoes and I want to crumble to the floor. It's a terrible way to cope. I KNOW. All of these little things, that made Darrell who he was in this life, come creeping in when I least expect it and I'm forced to deal with the fact that I had him from 2003 to 2021 and then I lost him to the pandemic. 

    I'm so angry. I'm angry at the situation. I'm angry at myself for not coping better. I'm angry at the virus. I'm angry at the world. I'm angry that I'm sitting in my dark room in the middle of the night, in an empty bed, typing away at this keyboard as the stinging tears flow. I feel very much so alone in this world, in my anger, hurt, and deep sadness. I have an amazing support system, and I don't want any of you to think that I'm not grateful. I truly am. But...this is a battle that I'm fighting alone. I could be surrounded by every person in the world who loves me, but still be alone in my own head. 

    Lord, I don't know what to ask for in this exact moment. You know my needs. Please hold your child, Father. Fill my mourning with your Light. Take this load, precious Lord. In the name of Jesus, I pray. Amen. 

    

So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. 

                                              -John 16:22

Relishing in His goodness...

Christy

IStndAmzd79@gmail.com

    

Thirty-Eight

   Thirty-Eight plus weeks. I am ravaged by constant reminders and it's REALLY gotten to me this past week. 

    We're about to get real. 

    I'm overwhelmed. I think it has a lot to do with the changing season (might I just add that it's snake season, too. I've already spotted a baby-ish sized snake on the front porch! ACK!!!), but there are so many things that I've got to take care of. Living on this much acreage comes with its fair share of maintenance. Working outdoors, was something that he and I did together and took so much pride in. But, now, everything looks a hot mess. I can't even apologize for my usage of slang term there, either. An absolute hot mess! I've neglected it, admittedly so. His absence shows completely when you drive up to our house. When it rains, its evident that the gutters need to be cleaned. Tree limbs are growing wildly over our steep driveway and hitting the roofs of our vehicles as we drive up. The grass is tall. Weeds are growing. The house needs to be pressure washed. Windows need to be scrubbed. It pains me, but I think I'm going to hire professionals to come out and take care of it all. One less thing for me to worry about. Now I've just got to get over the social anxiety part of calling up a company and having them come out. Boo. It's sooooo much fun adulting and I'm obviously crushing it. {insert exaggerated eye roll here} 

    The kids...I am in a place with them where I am REALLY trying to be patient and empathetic with them. These sweet babies have lost one half of what gave them security and love in this world. They lost their father at such young ages. I KNOW its not been an easy transition for them. But, I'd be fibbing if I didn't say that I'm losing my sanity just a smidgen, where they're concerned. Mostly because...I can't fix it. It's infuriating.

 I've learned that locking myself inside of a room, for the simple sake of privacy, causes too much anxiety for them. So I keep doors unlocked and, a lot of times, open. Mamas know what I'm talking about when I say that private bathroom time is almost an impossibility when you have toddlers. Well...that's currently my life's disposition with a ten and fifteen year old. 

  Just for the sake of sharing a good example, tonight as I was taking a bath, one of them poked their head into the bathroom several times to ask me random questions. When I finally just admitted defeat and got out of the bathtub, I found them both waiting for me on my bed. I've become a pro at getting dressed while still clad in a wrapped towel, these days. When I suggested (with humor, mind you) we discuss basic privacy standards, one of them said, "We just worry when you're in the bathroom for too long because we're scared you're going to drown." and the other said, "We lost our dad! We're just scared to lose you, too!"

            

                  {Exhale deeply}

    I took those two punches to the gut with an abundance of empathy and made a mental note to work on my internal indignation for the lack of privacy I've experienced these last thirty-eight weeks. If it makes them feel better, after experiencing such a loss, to make sure that they've still got me...who am I to complain about privacy?  

    My sweet babies...Lord bless them.  

    The grief therapist said that it tends to get worse in the second year, for children. I'm bracing myself for what's to come. 

    In other news:

    We sampled our Universal Yums box, last week. Goodies from the UK! Eeek! I was thrilled about this box! Everyone, who knows me well, knows that I have such a fondness for the UK.

But...I believe, after getting this last box, that they send snacks that are on the cheaper side, and probably not the most popular. Nevertheless, it was a great time, as always! I get such a kick out of doing these boxes with all four kids. My personal favorite were the rhubarb & custard bon bons. 

They were slightly tart but really yummy! The Kent Crisps were like what I can imagine a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory experience to be like. The flavor was Lamb and Rosemary but it was like eating an entire roast dinner. The first thing that you taste is a brown gravy flavor, followed by the taste of a roast and then mashed potatoes. We all thought that was a cool experience. The blackcurrant Millions were also really tasty. They aren't quite as hard or tart as our Nerds candy, but slightly similar. I'd actually prefer the Millions to Nerds. The kids loved the Pickled Onion Rings. They taste very similar to our pickled flavored snacks, but not near as strong. The kids seemed to find that to be refreshing. 

Fun box! I'm fairly certain we ate our snacks with our pinkies up, and spoke with accents throughout the duration of that experience. Seeing as how Gabriel played Shrek for his high school's performance of Shrek the Musical, he's got that Scottish accent down perfectly. The rest of us, on the other hand...complete rubbish! 

 My UGA boy came home from school, last week. I LOVE having Aaron home! I got an entire week with my boy to celebrate his 20'th birthday! Woot! 

I'm not his biological mother, but I've been so blessed to become his mama, nonetheless. Such a privilege to get to celebrate him. 

And then it was June.

Lindsey's birthday was just a couple of days later. My first child is 23. That blows my mind!

Young mamas, take note, TIME FLIES BY! Listen to what everyone tells you and relish in every minute. 

 This was Lindsey and I. I look like a baby myself. 

Before you know it, they're inching their way into their mid-twenties. 

These two oldest babies, of mine, have grown far quicker than I ever imagined they would. Gabriel will be 21 in August. Oy vey!

Funny Stories:

Ella says to me, "Wanna see a picture of  a really guilty pup?" then proceeds to shove her phone into my face. 

This is our naughty boy, Roscoe, who got into the trash and was wearing the evidence on his head. 

And another photo of him cuddling with his favorite girl. 

My littlest boy begged me to watch Obi-Wan with him. I have to admit, I'm not a Star Wars fan. Harry Potter and Marvel, I can watch all day. But not so much with Star Wars. But, for the sake of bonding, I agreed to watch the first episode with him. 

He was asleep within the first thirty minutes. I caption this photo "Off the Hook!!!" 

 Jacob tends to be much like me when it comes to belting out songs at random. Today, my ten year old walked into the kitchen singing, "It's raining men, hallelujah, it's raining men..." and that absolutely made my day!

They make me laugh and smile on a daily!!! I'm so thankful for these lil comedic nuggets.

Relishing in His goodness...

Christy

IStndAmzd79@gmail.com