A Year After

It's been over a year now since Grandma died and almost a year since my birth-mother died. I don't know what to tell people when they ask me about grief. I'm not going to lie and say it gets "better" or "easier" or whatever...because that's bullshit...and what does it really mean? You never stop missing the person you love, you miss them every day and some days you miss them every hour. I'm not going to lie about that. But you do go on with your life. Its amazing how life goes on, how the world moves on. Your children keep growing, you keep doing your chores, paying your bills, going to work...but sometimes, something so simple will set you back. The other night in one of my classes we were discussing genetics and eye color. We were supposed to "map" our genetic history of "eye color" from both sides of our parents. I could not remember what color my mother's eyes were. I could not remember the color. These were the first eyes I ever looked at when I was an infant. Hers was the first voice I heard when I was in her womb. How many times had I looked into her eyes. How many times had we laughed and cried together. Why couldn't I remember?

When you have these "setbacks" they are harsh. A lot of things come flooding back ~ some people say that we only remember the good about the dead loved ones we've lost. That's not true for me. I remember the good, the bad, and the regrets. The regrets are the hardest. This is the only chance we get with the people we love. Trust me on this one. Anyway, I called my Dad and he told me. Green. Just like mine. In fact he says I look a lot like her in a lot of ways. I know this because sometimes when I look in the mirror I am taken aback. I see my Mother. I wonder if she can see me. If she knows my feelings or thoughts. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I knew her eye color. Why I couldn't bring the information out, well ~ I don't know. Its another mystery of grief. I've come to think of grief as something we eventually learn to live with. It becomes a part of us. A part of who we are. I can finally talk about my grandmother and mother without crying now (most of the time). I have enjoyed simple pleasures again. I have laughed with my children, my friends. I have enjoyed watching a sunrise, weeding my flower garden, and going on night time jogs with my dog Abby. I know that I cannot live in my grief. But it lives inside of me. I read a book recently where a character mentioned...."that is what life is about...sometimes...missing the dead". And I had to put the book down because it was a revelation. Its true. But I don't think we realize this until we lose someone we really love and go through the trauma, then finally the acceptance. Like the old saying goes...I may accept it, but I don't have to like it.

Someone who had lost someone close to them asked me the other day how I had gotten through it. I didn't know what to say at first, so I didn't say anything. I know I didn't want to hear empty platitudes when I was grieving. But I did think about it. During the past year, I have done ALOT of thinking...and here's the god's honest truth. Here's a list...a "top 16" if you will of what has helped me to go on and not lose it completely:

1)My husband and children.
2)My family that is still here on this earth.
3)The good memories...and yes, even the bad.
4)good books
5)good food
6)good wine
7)I discovered "mojito's" and i like those too:)
8)I've learned to let A LOT of things go...life is too short for the bullshit...it just is
9)learning to laugh at myself ~ and laughing with my friends.
10)giving myself "permission" to grieve in the way I NEEDED and not listening to what other people TOLD me I should be doing.
11)Jogging at night or in the early morning with my dog Abby
12)My work, and my friends and students at work, who make me laugh every day I'm there and make me thankful for so much.
13)Dane Cook's comedy
14)Music
15)journaling - and i've had some really crazy journals....but that's okay
16)the ocean

That's it, and there's not an "order"...on any given day one may be better for me than the other. But I've definitely learned to live more in the moment, and do the things that I've been wanting to do instead of listening to other people so much or caring about what other people think. I am who I am....and if they can't take a joke...fuk em :).....I can almost hear my mom laughing and my grandma laughing and saying....."Brandie Lea"......"I swear"....in that Oklahoma twang.

I still haven't forgotten their voices, their faces (except for the brief relapse with the eye color thing) and they will always be a part of me. Their lives...and now their deaths. I do try to live my life in a way that would honor them, and I hope I am. But I'm also my own person. And that's okay. Yes, its a cliche, but life does go on. I guess its how we go on about it that shapes us. I'll be 35 in November. I know my life is probably half over. But I'm going to enjoy it while I'm here, and I hope everyone else does too - no matter what tragedies they face. Live your life like there's no tomorrow is also another cliche...but its true.
That's all for now everyone.
Take care of each other.
"the mom next door"


Anyway, I added the pic of Kat and Amy playing on the beach this past summer because it means a lot to me. It represents a lot. They are just beginning their lives, sitting in the ocean foam on a summer day. I hope they remember those days, those moments. Its what life is all about.

More Pics and Backstory's

Top: This is Grandpa Duane & Grandma Kathy On November 2, 1947 - their wedding day.
This is Grandma Kathy (still not a grandma yet-:)) making Christmas Dinner at Granny Beulah's house (her mom). I believe this was 1968
This picture was taken in 1972; from left Grandma, Granny Beulah, Great-Grandma Julia (Grandpa Duane's mom-she's still alive!) and Great Grandpa Willis (Grandpa's Dad). I didn't get to meet either of my great-grandfather's they both died shortly before I was born in 1972. Grandma Kathy died Sep 15, 2006, Granny died in 2004, and Great Grandma Julia is still alive.
These are pictures of Grandpa Duane and Grandma Kathy with Haden in 1993-much happier times.

This is me, Tristan,&Kat in 2002 at Grandpa & Grandma's House in Arkansas. Again, happier times.

Some pics of my grandma's life & my mom,family,etc.

Top left is me and my mom; circa 1974 or 75? Top Right is one of the happiest times in my life so far. From left is Tristan (in backpack), Jim, Haden, Me, and Grandma in front of the glass church in Bella Vista. It's a beautiful place. When I was a little girl I wanted to be married in that church. This picture was taken shortly after I was re-assigned to a special-duty assignment in Oklahoma City (with the Air Force) and I was close to family for the first time since I had left home to join the Air Force - 7 years previously. I was stationed there for two years and was able to spend a lot of time with Grandma and everyone else, and I'll always be grateful for those years (1997-1999). In this picture Haden is about 4 years old and Tristan is almost a year old. Jim and I were 29 and 25 respectively. Grandma would have been about 70. She was very healthy and active until she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002. Against her better judgement she allowed them to perform a masectomy and remove 11 lymph nodes. After that her health gradually deteriorated. The lump that was diagnosed as "cancerous" had been on her breast for several years. To this day I wonder if it should have been left alone. I guess there is no use in wondering about the past. It is something we can never change.

Top Left is Grandma (on Right) and friend at left. I'm not sure who the friend is but she (eerily) looks like one of my friends (heidi). Anyway, I think Grandma (not a grandma at this point) was about 17 in this picture. On the top right is a picture taken when she was about 15. Bottom right is a picture taken with her namesake, our daughter Katherine, named after Grandma. I think this picture was taken on a visit in 2002.

Dealing with Grief

Hi everyone in blog-land, I know its been a long time since I posted. But a LOT of things have changed in the past year. On September 15, 2006 the mother of my heart (my Grandmother Katherine i.e., Kathy) passed away. She really was my mother, in fact if not for her I probably wouldn't exist or even be alive right now. She was only in her 40's when I was born and I lived off and on with my grandparents through some very tumultuous years.

I was able to be with her at the end and I am grateful for that. But it was also the most horrible experience in my life. She had a brain aneurysm and it took her two days to die from it. She was 77 years old and just shy of her 59th wedding anniversary with my Grandfather (whom she met on a blind date).

I flew down to Arkansas and was by her bedside over night. To see her in that bed, to see the person I loved most in the world (along with my children and my husband) slowly dying while I sat by helplessly was more than I could bear. But I did bear it. To watch my Grandfather break down periodically, to listen to her labored breathing while her body filled up with fluids. I know what a "death rattle" is now. Pray that you never hear it from someone you love. I mean it..there are not any words that can describe the feelings it invokes in you...there just isn't any.

Then in the last hours she would stop breathing, and then start again. The nurses told me this was also common, but it was agonizing. I wanted to tear my hair out, to scream at them to DO SOMETHING! PLEASE! DO SOMETHING TO HELP HER! SHE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS! She is the Glue of our family! Help her! She is the BEST person I've ever known, everything that is good in me is from her! Help her please! JUST FUCCING HELP HER!

But I did not do this; to do this would have been to dishonor her. Instead I read her favorite psalms, the ones she had taught me. I talked to her. I don't know if she heard or understood me. I like to think that she did. I thanked her for everything she had done for me; I told her how much I loved her. I talked about old times. I talked about the kids and told her funny stories about them and about my work. I brushed her hair. I told her it was okay to "pass on" (the nurses kept encouraging us to do this). But then I would break down and lay across her, trying to absorb as much of her as I could. Trying to hold her forever, just hold her.

I would have given anything...at that point in time I would have even given my own life. Even now, now that it’s February 8th and it has been 5 months since the woman who was in all respects my mother was reduced to ashes, I still have a hard time writing this. This is the first time I have written about it, and it will probably be the last time. That is how painful this is-even now.

What else can I say? In the end the nurses encouraged me to go to my rental car (where my suitcase still was since I came straight from the airport) and get my brush and some hair ties and "fix" her hair. My Grandfather and Uncle had gone back to the house to shower and change clothes before returning. I remember thinking "Yes, I should braid her hair."

She had the most beautiful long black hair, all of her life.

I guess they were actually trying to get me out of the room, as it turns out the minute I walked out she gave her last breath and passed on. The nurses said that they had encouraged me to leave the room because as they have noticed on the floor they work on

(The floor where people go to die-how special does a person have to be to work on this floor? I could not bear it…anyway…)

The nurses indicated that often people will not "let go" until the ones they love are out of the room...almost as if we are holding them on earth with our grief and fear. In this case they said it was almost eerie. It was as if she was waiting for me to leave. One nurse said "She must have Loved you very much". She will never know how much those words will always mean to me - even until my last breath.

When I came back I knew immediately she was gone. How to describe the next few hours or days? I'm not even sure if I can. I lay across her and cried, I fixed her hair, I sang to her (songs she used to sing when I was a child). But I could feel it; I could feel that whatever had made up my Grandma Kathy was gone.

My Grandfather came back and I had to tell him and my Uncle that she had passed while they were gone. The emotional pain was unbelievable, unbearable. My Grandpa was left alone with her and even with the heavy hospital door closed you could hear him sobbing and talking and singing to her. I saw some of the nurses and even a doctor start to cry. At this point I'm pretty sure I was in shock and would remain this way for several days. Maybe this is our mind's way of "protecting" us from total breakdown. I don't know.

I helped my Grandpa put together a "memorial board" of her life for the Memorial Service. Pictures of her life and her family, the family that meant everything to her. She was so beautiful she could have easily been a model (seriously) but a career never crossed her mind. She wanted to be a mother, a wife. And she was definitely made for the job.

The first night after her death I knew her body was at the funeral home and I had this crazy vision of myself going there and breaking in to be by her side. So she would not be by herself in the cold and in the dark.

And I cried, I cried more than I thought a human could possibly cry. I'm talking about the laying on the floor in a fetal position groaning crying. The kind of crying that feels like you can actually die from it. I was angry, I was scared, most of all I felt different. Like I would never be the same. I realize now that this is true. The death of someone you love with your whole heart changes you in fundamental ways. I only realize this now.

It gets worse...

Our family had planned on visiting Grandma & Grandpa at Christmas. We decided to go anyway
to help my Grandpa through the first Christmas without Grandma. We were driving down and leaving on December 22 to drive from California to Arkansas. We were also going to stop in Oklahoma to visit family there.

On December 20th my Dad called and told me that my birth-mother had collapsed and died suddenly from an aortic aneurysm with complications of high blood pressure and undiagnosed diabetes. I didn't even get to say goodbye, nothing. That was it.

At this point I can't even describe how I felt. I felt like I was in a nightmare and couldn't wake up. I had so many unresolved issues with my birth mother, but I know she loved me. She was just so young when I was born and I know this made her life more difficult. But she had done many things for me over the years and I know she really loved me, I hope she knew how much I also loved her...despite our unresolved issue's. I just always thought there would be time. I thought I had more time. I am 34. She was 50 years old. She was also cremated. I will never see nor talk to either her or my grandmother again. Sometimes the finality of this is overwhelming...even now. It washes over me and I feel sick and disoriented. Like I have lost my foundation and I'm drifting.

When people talk about their family sometimes I become angry or think thoughts like "I will never do that again...I will never talk to my Grandmother on the phone, I'll never have lunch with my Mom, and I’ll never go shopping with my Mom or my Grandmother, never ever again. Death is Final. And it’s coming for us all.

I guess my point is that we REALLY don't know how much time we have. We just don't. Cherish your loved ones, I don't give a dam if it sounds corny or hokey, Cherish them. Appreciate them. Call up a Mom or Dad or Grandparent or Sibling that you've been arguing with or haven't talked to in a while. Because you may never get another chance. We take too much for granted.

Bottom Line: I'm a different person now. You can not go through what I have in the past 5 months and not change. I feel like a part of me is "gone". I listen more. I hug my husband and kids more and tell them how much I love them all the time.

I still cry a lot, sometimes it just hits me. It’s a pain that doesn’t go away or “fade over time” as some people like to say. It stays with you. It’s a pain that you learn to live with. I know it is true now…more than ever. What doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger. And in a strange way, even though I feel more vulnerable right now, I know I am stronger.

I raised my Life Insurance. I'm in the process of writing letter's "just in case" for my children, husband, and remaining family and friends-in case something should happen. There are things I want them to know. Things I want them to be able to hold on to if I'm suddenly gone.
I'm not taking ANYTHING for granted.

And finally, I wanted to share some quotes about grief. The one I found to be the most accurate was actually a surprise to me. I have been reading many books about grief, but on the side I am reading an auto-biography with my oldest son about Johnny Cash. It was in this book "Cash" that I found the most accurate quote that I could relate to about grieving for someone you love and how it changes you, in this excerpt he is talking about losing his 14 year old brother Jack:

"Losing Jack was terrible. It was awful at the time, and it’s still a big, cold, sad place in my heart and soul. There's no way around grief and loss: you can dodge all you want, but sooner or later you just have to go into it, through it, and, hopefully, come out the other side. The world you find there will never be the same as the world you left" (Johnny Cash with Patrick Carr).

I'd like to add to that. The person you are will never be the same as the person you were either. So these are some of the reasons I have been absent, I have been (and I am still) trying to figure out who I am now and maybe this is a life-long journey. I miss my Mom. I miss my Grandma. I have many regrets. I have many good memories too. I guess this is life. There is tragedy, sorrow, and pain. But there is also happiness, love, and hope. I am still a Mother, I am still a Wife. I know my husband and children love me. I hold on to this. I hold on to hope. I hold on to my faith and hope someday in some way I will be reunited with my loved ones. Maybe “heaven” as a kingdom is a “fairy tale” as many “”educated” people like to say, but it is one that I desperately want to believe in.
Peace to everybody.
The Mom Next Door