Birth and Death

My newest grandchild was born two weeks ago at 10:17am.

She was a perfect 9lbs 2oz.

One minute, there was a pregnant daughter with one child… the next, there was a new little human being.

Ok, maybe longer than a minute.  But you know what I mean. It was a shift in our worlds.  She went from momma of 1 to momma of 2.

It seems somewhat surreal… just like when he died.  One minute I was a wife, the next?  A widow.

Life happens in moments.  The moment of birth. The moment of death. The moment of “I do.”

Life happens when you least expect it.  And it’s all intertwined. Changes happen and life continues and you miss someone so fiercely you can’t breathe and you love someone new so fiercely you can’t breathe and it’s ALL THERE AT ONCE.

I miss Mark with every fibre of my being.

I love my grandchildren to the moon and back.

I love Ryan with every fibre of my being.

None of these are in conflict with the other. None of these cancel out the other.

One moment I was a wife, the next a widow.

One moment I was a widow/girlfriend/fiance, the next I was a wife.

One moment my daughter was pregnant, the next I had a new baby granddaughter.

Birth and death and everything in between. Everything changes in a moment.

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Christmas is Hitting Hard

I almost managed to stay cheery.

I almost managed to get/stay in the Christmas spirit.

I almost managed to avoid the lead blanket that is starting to envelop me.

I almost.

It’s starting to hit… the lack of desire to do anything holiday-ish.

The lack of desire to finish the decorations.

The lack of desire to finish the Christmas crafting.

The lack of desire to do anything but sit on my couch.

I was hoping that this Christmas would be different. I was hoping I’d not get into a funk.

But here I sit.

Funk-a-fied.

Staring at an undecorated tree.

Staring at Christmas crafts that need to be completed.

Staring at the Christmas movie playing on the TV.

With a complete. lack. of desire. to do anything.

This is not where I want to be this Christmas.

This is not who I want to be.

I want to be happy and Christmas-y and bouncy and in love with life.

I know that a big part of me IS in love with life.  I have an amazing man who loves me, wants to marry me, and loves our life together.

But the fucking sadness of Christmas… ugh. It’s dragging at me.

So I’m watching cheesy Christmas movies and hoping the spirit will rise up..and I’ll get the damn tree decorated.

Because.  Christmas.  The most wonderful time of the year.

IMGP5737Christmas 2012 – first one without him.

The First…

There’s not too many firsts left after 4 years gone.

This past weekend was two firsts.

The first wedding I’ve attended since he died.

The first “Smith” family gathering since he died.

This was the wedding of his nephew. It’s hard to believe that he’s missing out on so much.

Kids growing up, getting married, having kids…

The ceremony was beautiful.  The bride and groom were gorgeous. The setting was amazing…

And all throughout, there was a golden thread of sadness in my heart. What he’s missing out on.

I didn’t bring my Sexxy Chef with me.  I had RSVP’d before he was on the scene, didn’t think that was the best place to introduce him and ultimately, I needed to go through the wedding without Mark on my own.

I spent a lot of time with my grandson, dancing with him while he fell asleep. He gave me an excuse to be kind of anti-social and off on my own. He allowed me to just be… to feel and allow the emotions to wash over me without affecting anyone else’s good time.

It was a day of joy.  They don’t get the sorrow.  They don’t get how the sadness is always there like the sunburn that hasn’t yet healed and you go to scratch an itch and it suddenly flares up and HOLY FUCK THAT STILL HURTS.

That’s what the wedding did… it was the scratch on the burn. The joy of seeing Austin and Maddie get married scratched the pain of missing Mark.  And holy fuck does it still hurt.

Maddie and Austin

I’m so very happy for them. They are so beautifully in love, so incredibly happy. And I’m glad I was able to be there to share in their day.  I know Mark was there in spirit.

Stuck Again….

I had started a blog post earlier…. Happy Thanksgiving… happy joyous occasion… blah blah blah.

And it was.  It really was.   We got time with the boys we hadn’t yet had – time at our house.

We had Mom’s here.

We had a day relatively free of conflict and fighting.

We had smiles and love and laughter.

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I have an amazing family.

Yet here I am… 11pm on Thanksgiving Sunday… wanting, needing to cry.

I’m hurting.  I’m sad.

And I’m stuck again.

There is so much GOOD in my life, so much AMAZING stuff and people and new family that there’s a part of me that says “What the FUCK do you have to be sad about??”

I miss him.  I miss Mark.

There was nothing in today to suggest remembrance… other than its a holiday and he wasn’t here to help celebrate it.

He wasn’t there to help cook.

He wasn’t there to take pictures.

He wasn’t there.

And in the middle of the night, with everyone else sleeping, I’m trying to make myself cry, trying to incite the tears so that I can have that release…

Because I miss him.  And he is worth my tears.

And I’m stuck.

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Life Is Short