It's sorrow for those left here

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear." C.S. Lewis

A good man died today. His name was James Poe. He is among the first of our "peer group" to go, although he was older that most of us. He had surgery for a hernia a year ago that went wrong. Somehow, his liver ended up being injured which led to numerous illnesses. He has been in and out of the hospital ever since.

He has left behind a wife and 2 children. A daughter in college and a 12 year-old daughter. We worshipped with them all for a time until they decided to attend a different church. I work with his wife. She has been an inspiration to watch over the last year. She has maintained her faith and held fast to it while watching her husband do the same. Now she must continue the journey they began together - alone.

It's all so cliche about how there is no grief in heaven and how we should rejoice when our loved ones go to heaven, and that's true. But there is the day in and day out that begins to creep in. The heartbreak and loneliness. Your partner not there to talk about the day with. Though you know the one you love is safe, healed, happy, and loved, you are left to carry on during this walk on earth. Now she has to help 2 girls walk through the loss of their father. She can do it. She has the faith and the courage. But she will need help and prayers.

I have a besty that I joke with from time to time about being the next wife for my husband should anything happen to me and her husband. I half mean it because I think they would be a good fit and I want someone to look out for him and my kids. Goodness knows he and I have discussed all of the contingency plans of what I'm supposed to do in the event he should die before I do. He's taken out a life insurance policy on me because he knows how expensive it will be to hire someone to do my "job" around here. I'm sure most couples have these talks. Now with the passing of James, it seems a little too close to home. Our distant "plans" could actually have to be put into effect one day.

C.S. Lewis is right, grief does feel like fear. For Kathryn and her family, they'll be in our prayers and we'll do what we can to help them through.

It isn't Facebook itself...

I've decided that I am just about done with Facebook. When I first started, I was very careful about who I "friended". Then I started accepting requests from people I knew, but sometimes only remotely. I am always careful about what I post - what you post stays out there for everyone to see. If you delete it  - chances will be that someone saw it anyway. I never post anything I wouldn't say to a roomful of people.

When I was in Junior/Senior high, I was subjected to lots of drama by my "friends". Hurtful things happened and were said which left me feeling powerless. I was afraid the same thing would happen on FB, which was why I avoided people I didn't know, etc.

Since this is public forum, I won't go into the details, but things made it back to me this week regarding a post by a "friend" on Facebook, but someone I know in real life as well. The post - while I never saw it, from what I was told, was hurtful and mean depending on the interpretation of the acronyms and context.

She misunderstood a situation and reacted which caused drama and stress for me and her. Once again, I find myself feeling like I did as a teenager and am hating it. Clearly, I have issues, but I REALLY wanted to leave drama behind. This person and I have talked and we'll move past this, but the wake of the event is there and has to be dealt with. People tell me I take things too seriously, but this is who I am.

Even though she has "unfriended" me (not the first person to do so, but at least I have an explanation this time),  but it got me thinking. Why is FB important to me? Why did I get an account in the first place. What do I want from it? Really, I wanted a way to quickly connect with people I knew, friends, and family. Share funny stories, cute pictures, etc. My friends list has grown too large and I've done some trimming. Mostly people I haven't had any direct contact with in a long time. I gave a brief explanation, then culled the list. I may trim out more.

I'm almost ready to delete the account altogether, but then I see things like a picture of my sweet new niece, a word of encouragement from my brother, a zinger from my NY friend, or an amusing quip by one of my besties, then I decide to leave the account active and just enjoy the people I see or talk to a lot. For now at least....

not a happy anniversary of sorts

This was my dad in 1977 sometime around my birthday. The picture isn't totally flattering, but it is reflective of him. He had an infectious personality and seemed larger than life to me. He died on September 4, 1982, when I was 11 years-old.

I  don't think I've ever really chronicled that day in print before. Parts of it are burned into my memory and I'll never forget them. Parts are gone like a mist - I can almost see them, but then they disappear.

His death wasn't a surprise - he had been struggling with various forms of cancer for years. I remember that last summer - he was at the house in a hospital bed in our living room. We had a parade of nurses in our house and my mom was exhausted. Nobody told me how bad it was. In the late-summer, my nephew Nicholas was born. My sister, her husband and new baby moved into our home for a few weeks so daddy could spend time with him. I should have guessed then.

I started 7th grade in the fall at a new school anxious to see a friend that had moved away a few years before. For the first time in months, someone asked me over for a sleepover after the Junior High Football game on Friday nigh (Sept. 3rd). He insisted that I go - I'd been in the house too much he said.

So I went and got into a terrible fight that night with the friend I was so excited to see. It seems she wasn't so glad to see me. The next morning - from the sleepover, I called to apologize. The mom of the girl I was with came to me and said that she was taking me to the hospital - my dad had been brought in. I still didn't get it. I knew it was bad, but had no idea.

Somehow, I got upstairs, but I don't know how. All I remember is seeing all of these family members around. His mom, my momo just looked at me and said "He's dad cha." My oldest brother hurried over to get me and I think I asked if it was true. He just walked me to the hospital room where my mother stood silently. He was there - but he was gone. I remember seeing him, but that's not the memory that usually shows up when I picture him.

I remember being in a courtyard at the hospital with my mom and brother-in-law. She was clutching him and screaming - I could hear the echoes of the building. To this day, I can still hear it.

I remember riding in a car, watching the city fly by as we headed home. I remember thinking that nothing would ever be the same.

There were people in and out for days. We had a big memorial service. My mother cried a lot. My grandmother scolded me for watching TV and my sister fussed back at her reminding her I was still a child.

Then it was all over. People left, I had to go back to school and with that he was gone. Not from my memory, but from my life.

A nurse told us that she had prayed with him before he died to ask Jesus into his heart. I didn't quite get it at the time because my dad was always a religious man. I get it now - she told him the Truth and now he is in heaven and I will get to see him again.

I have so many questions for him. Did he know it was the end? Is that why he sent me away that night? Is he proud of me? My logical mind says yes, but I've made so many mistakes in my life. Has he been watching over me and now my children? What was it like for him when he finally heard the gospel and believed? What was he scared of? How could he have been so positive about a special needs child when at the time, it was looked at as a horrible thing? What were his passions? What was his childhood like? On and on it goes. I want to know the mundane and the important.

I still have dreams about him - that it's all been a big mistake and that he just shows up one day back into our lives. He left me at such a tough age to be a kid. I don't feel like I really knew him (I was the last of 4). But I loved him and thought he was the most powerful man in the world. I was just old enough not to understand that he was human, capable of mistakes and regrets.

I can't wait to talk to him again now that I am grown with children of my own. I can't wait to tell him all about them. How brilliant Abbey is, how much Harry looks like him, how funny Anna Kate is. I can't wait to introduce him to my husband - a man I know he would approve of. I really can't wait to see he and my mom together again. In a place without the worries of the world and the harsh words that can be spoken here. Most of all, I can't wait to be with both of them in peace and love for eternity.

testing and ant updates

Hi all - I am trying out this way of linking my blog to my profile which is the main reason I am writing a post.

As a follow-up to the ant situation here goes: the borax/sugar mixture actually worked well, but I went ahead and bought some bait traps that seem to have done the job. We have had a stray ant or two today, but so far none tonight. Thank goodness they are gone. Now, if we could just get the new fridge....

Did I mention Harry is shopping online for it? I'm fascinated by how it's going to get here. I keep picturing UPS or FedEx showing up with this gigantic box. When I asked him how they ship them, he looked at me with this blank look and said "that's what shipping companies are for". So much for my imaginings of UPS rolling up the driveway with my new appliance. Moving companies seem so much more boring and anti-climatic than going to the store and having it delivered, but if we can save some big money this way, then I'm all for it!

ants and fridge problems

Apparently, nothing good really happens while Harry is out of town. He's been gone for a few days and my house has gone to the ants! The problem started a few days ago, and now I am in a never-ending struggle to rid myself of these menaces. They are the little black ones, so thankfully, they don't bite. "What have you tried?" you may ask. Well here goes:

 

1. Vinegar water solution: didn't even kill them or slow them down
2. Smash technique - therapeutic, but not effective at getting to the nest
3. Tonight at 2:30am I got up for water. Found them swarming an EMPTY sink and counter (yes, I cleared everything off today).
4. I've just laid out some borax mixed with sugar. Supposedly, this is another "green" way to get rid of them. I'm not hopeful
5. Tomorrow - er..later today, I am going to the store to buy ant traps.

So you're probably thinking, just find the nest and poison that. No can do. They don't come from a particular spot and swarm my whole counter. I even removed the outlet cover and carefully, but with great revenge in my heart, sprayed ant spray while praying I wouldn't electrocute myself. My husband did it once so why can't I?

What these ants don't know is the level of stubbornness they are dealing with. There is a lot in my life I can't control, so somehow, I am just BEGGING for a project like this. Clear-cut and to the point - find and kill the ants. I'll let you know how the traps go.

In other news, our 15 year-old fridge is just about dead (again, right as Harry was leaving town). Last month we were looking at new ones and he decided to wait since ours was still perfectly good. I acquiesced, but expressed my concern. See our house is 15 years-old, so the spot to put the fridge can only accommodate a 35 inch model. All of the new, fancy ones with freezers on the bottom and fridge on top and water in the door are wider than that. My concern was that if we waited for the current fridge to die, we wouldn't have the luxury of shopping around. Turns out I may be right.

My neighbors, God bless them, came to my rescue again. They sell ice cream on the weekends and brought me a freezer that I can dial down to use for the fridge items (we had a small freezer that I moved frozen foods to a few days ago). Now, I'm afraid we'll be using that cooler for a week while my wonderfully thrifty husband shops around; or worse, looks for some "part" to attempt to repair the 15 year-old beast.

Stay tuned for more exciting adventures from our family *sarcasm intended!*.

Not bad all things considered

So yesterday was a bit of a let-down for us. We went to a pool party at a pool we don't normally attend. I was busy with the baby, but was checking in on Harry from time to time. Apparently, the "lifeguard" was a little too watchful of him. I say lifeguard loosely because she isn't really one - more like a rule monitor.

She stalked me down to complain about Harry not going down the slide properly and threatened to ban him. I told her he was Autistic and I would speak to him. She informed me she was a teacher but couldn't have children disobeying the rules. After a few other run-ins, I left with the baby and let my husband take over. She was mean and belligerent with him even calling him honey. He told her his name wasn't "honey", it was Mr. Bulbrook and a little respect on her part would go a long way towards solving the problem. She accused him of being "aggressive" and stalked off.

While I have shortened the narrative, I have detailed it all for her bosses in a letter that I have fired off. My question - although rhetorical at this point is - What is she a teacher of? She certainly didn't act like a teacher that understands Autism. Although, one time I did have one teacher refer to special needs kids as "those kids" when she went on a tirade to me one day (not knowing I was one of those kids moms and he was sitting right there)! Be careful what you say people! I also emailed her boss to let her know what a poor example she was setting for the school's reputation. I didn't tell her I was a special needs parent - that was on a need to know basis and she didn't need to know.

The point is people need to step back and chill out. I was just on a parent panel at TEACCH this week trying to explain what we go through. This was a perfect example. I was polite, but really just wanted to yell at her. That's ok - my letter will get my point across even if no one listens. It was so frustrating for me to watch her stalk my son waiting for any chance to call him out. I didn't interfere to much because he also needs to learn that people can be very serious about the rules. He also needs to develop more social awareness of what people are thinking around him.

On another note, we had a big milestone today. Harry has been saving his money for 6 weeks to buy a Buzz Lightyear toy. Every week we had to count the money and every time we went to Target, we had to visit the toy. Today he had enough money and proudly got to buy that toy. I'm so proud of him. Before he was saving for Buzz, he was saving his money for a wooden Amtrak train set he really wanted.

He is learning some real world skills and patience and I couldn't be more proud of him!

What's your passion?

Growing up I never had the benefit of pursuing multiple things until I discovered the one "thing" that I loved. My mom and dad put me in piano lessons and that was that. My best friend took dance - boy was I jealous. My siblings played in the high school band. Briefly, I was on the flag corp in my high school. My days were mostly spent consuming pop culture and taking care of my brother.

I have friends that love to run, exercise, scrapbook, take photos, paint, etc. I have never found my passion in life. Why has this become so important now? Maybe because I am almost 40. Maybe it's because I know that I can't continue to consume pop culture and every tasty snack I can lay my hands on and hope to live another 40 years. Maybe it's because I feel like a hypocrite.

I was having a talk with my dd Abbey a few weeks ago. She has had the chance to try numerous things, but still hasn't landed on the "thing" she loves. She's great at lots of things, but gets bored. My husband says we need to make her stick it out for a while, but I have. She's done numerous basketball and soccer seasons. Danced for a year and did gymnastics for a year. She also took art classes after school for a year (which she'll go back to until April has her baby).

I was trying to explain to her why she needs a passion. It's something you can pursue any time. You can actually write something when asked what your hobby is. It's an outlet when you get too stressed. I think some of the reason I struggle with my weight is because I don't have a passion. I end up bored and eating instead of doing other things that make me happy.

Some people assume that because I work with kids and have 3 of my own, that children are my passion. Nope. I love my job and my kids, but goodness knows I need a break from both. Others assume my passion is all things Autism because we know it intimately. Nope again. I need a break from that too. I am passionate about both things, but they aren't my hobby.

So what things interest me? I like to take pictures. I do like to write (this blog is an example). I have a book idea, but no clue how to get started. I've always wanted to take a cake decorating class, but have never been able to carve out the time (probably a good thing with my weight where it is now!). Lately, I've been thinking about taking up the piano again.

I'm not sure what my "passion" or "hobby" will be, but I intend to find out! What's yours?