Thursday, July 9, 2009
Missing Mom and Brian
I found this song from a fellow blogger widow. It took me from both sides, with so much I long to tell Brian everyday, and all the things I didn't get to say to my mom. Knowing that life is full of losses and it is a normal part of life doesn't make me miss them any less. Here it is if you are interested...Address in the Stars by Caitlin and Will. But if you've lost someone you love, just be prepared.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
More Thoughts
The earthly battle with the beast is over for yet another melanoma warrior, Johnny Deep. I find myself even a bit jealous of how he was able to spend his last months, enjoying life in the midst of treatments, going places. He definitely lived life to the fullest. I will miss his candid accounts of fighting melanoma and his will to live. Rest in peace dear Johnny.
And then there is Mae, who has also made her way to Heaven.
And amongst the many blogs I follow, I came upon little Kate McRae who could really use your prayers right now. She went to the hospital on June 29 with tremors, which led to a diagnosis of a brain tumor, believed to be malignant and very aggressive. I am unsure of Kate's age, although she appears to be around 3-4 years old.
Cancer. Again. Everywhere.
I am not much in the celebrating mood this holiday. I miss Brian terribly, and the numbness of my life is starting to wear off. I don't expect anyone to understand. How could you, you were not madly in love with this man. My heart is very heavy. The kids are all where they can at least still celebrate, and I am just listening to the quiet, intermixed with some fireworks in the neighborhood.
I just finished reading The Shack by William P. Young. If you haven't heard of it, check it out here. When I first started to read it, I had a hard time getting into it. I even ditched the book a few times and left it for a while, then started over. The book is about a man who goes camping with his children, and while he is helping his other kids keep from drowning in a capsized canoe, his youngest daughter vanishes. The horror sets in when they realize she has been murdered in a shack in the woods, although her body is never found.
Stop there...so I decided surely this book won't hit home for me, with this loss being so different from my own. Finally one night, I read on.
He has received a note from God. Or is it a note from her killer? He is so lost in his faith that he is willing to chance it to see if God will really show up, because he's got some explaining to do.
I'm pretty sure that is when I got sucked in. I was anxious to see if God would indeed show up, and just how in hell he was going to explain the brutal murder of his daughter. Why was she not protected? What had this family done wrong to be inflicted with this tragedy.
Suddenly, his loss became my loss. While so much was different about losing a child to a murder and losing a husband to cancer, our feelings seemed to parallel each other. So there was no going back. I couldn't put the book down, other than the times I had to make myself stop reading or the times I couldn't see through the tears to be able to keep reading....or the times I was so angry with God that I didn't want to accept what this father was starting to realize was the truth about God.
Without giving away the book, God did show up and he was able to see things from God's eyes, to ask Him those tough questions, to grow in a relationship with God. I guess that would be easy if He would send me a note and invite me to Hawaii so we could chat. Then I could hear it first-hand, what it is He wants me to do with this life, the life that is left after Brian. And it could only be a dream to get to see Brian again, to feel him and hear him.
So what about the book. It has me thinking, I have to admit. It has me questioning a lot, no doubt. But it does have me longing for more, longing to feel like I can be really angry and lonely and sad and still feel close to God. I am not sure those things go together. So the book didn't solve it all for me, but I have spent a lot of time reflecting and trying to wrap my head around what has become of me, what my purpose is, why i am here and what I am to do with my life. And those thoughts are exhausting. Grief is exhausting. Interestingly, lately I've really been feeling the pain, almost like I couldn't or wouldn't allow myself to feel the pain of my loss, and lately the pain is a stinging pain that I can't ignore.
I checked. The mail doesn't come today since it is a holiday...not even from Heaven. Maybe one day I will be able to heal enough to be open to hear whatever it is that God is telling me.
And then there is Mae, who has also made her way to Heaven.
And amongst the many blogs I follow, I came upon little Kate McRae who could really use your prayers right now. She went to the hospital on June 29 with tremors, which led to a diagnosis of a brain tumor, believed to be malignant and very aggressive. I am unsure of Kate's age, although she appears to be around 3-4 years old.
Cancer. Again. Everywhere.
I am not much in the celebrating mood this holiday. I miss Brian terribly, and the numbness of my life is starting to wear off. I don't expect anyone to understand. How could you, you were not madly in love with this man. My heart is very heavy. The kids are all where they can at least still celebrate, and I am just listening to the quiet, intermixed with some fireworks in the neighborhood.
I just finished reading The Shack by William P. Young. If you haven't heard of it, check it out here. When I first started to read it, I had a hard time getting into it. I even ditched the book a few times and left it for a while, then started over. The book is about a man who goes camping with his children, and while he is helping his other kids keep from drowning in a capsized canoe, his youngest daughter vanishes. The horror sets in when they realize she has been murdered in a shack in the woods, although her body is never found.
Stop there...so I decided surely this book won't hit home for me, with this loss being so different from my own. Finally one night, I read on.
He has received a note from God. Or is it a note from her killer? He is so lost in his faith that he is willing to chance it to see if God will really show up, because he's got some explaining to do.
I'm pretty sure that is when I got sucked in. I was anxious to see if God would indeed show up, and just how in hell he was going to explain the brutal murder of his daughter. Why was she not protected? What had this family done wrong to be inflicted with this tragedy.
Suddenly, his loss became my loss. While so much was different about losing a child to a murder and losing a husband to cancer, our feelings seemed to parallel each other. So there was no going back. I couldn't put the book down, other than the times I had to make myself stop reading or the times I couldn't see through the tears to be able to keep reading....or the times I was so angry with God that I didn't want to accept what this father was starting to realize was the truth about God.
Without giving away the book, God did show up and he was able to see things from God's eyes, to ask Him those tough questions, to grow in a relationship with God. I guess that would be easy if He would send me a note and invite me to Hawaii so we could chat. Then I could hear it first-hand, what it is He wants me to do with this life, the life that is left after Brian. And it could only be a dream to get to see Brian again, to feel him and hear him.
So what about the book. It has me thinking, I have to admit. It has me questioning a lot, no doubt. But it does have me longing for more, longing to feel like I can be really angry and lonely and sad and still feel close to God. I am not sure those things go together. So the book didn't solve it all for me, but I have spent a lot of time reflecting and trying to wrap my head around what has become of me, what my purpose is, why i am here and what I am to do with my life. And those thoughts are exhausting. Grief is exhausting. Interestingly, lately I've really been feeling the pain, almost like I couldn't or wouldn't allow myself to feel the pain of my loss, and lately the pain is a stinging pain that I can't ignore.
I checked. The mail doesn't come today since it is a holiday...not even from Heaven. Maybe one day I will be able to heal enough to be open to hear whatever it is that God is telling me.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Urgent!
You have got to take a look at THIS because it is a site full of pictures of actual melanomas. Browse through them and see if you have anything that looks similar. See if anyone you love has anything like this. I mean, come on, some of them are no-brainers, clearly suspicious and nasty looking. But others are faint blotches on skin. It varies so much. Not all moles bleed and scream something is wrong. Save your life, save the life of someone you love, and check it out.
I firmly believe that I have actually seen some melanomas around Maryville. If they were someone I knew, I would say something. It was a lady in front of me at the store once. It was a kid at the pool last summer. It was a person in line at the movies. All had what I would consider totally suspicious looking moles, only to be determined as skin cancer by an expert, but that can't be determined unless they get it checked out.
And melanoma is...choke, sigh...nearly 100% curable if found early.
Protect the skin your in.
I firmly believe that I have actually seen some melanomas around Maryville. If they were someone I knew, I would say something. It was a lady in front of me at the store once. It was a kid at the pool last summer. It was a person in line at the movies. All had what I would consider totally suspicious looking moles, only to be determined as skin cancer by an expert, but that can't be determined unless they get it checked out.
And melanoma is...choke, sigh...nearly 100% curable if found early.
Protect the skin your in.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
God Help Me + a Little Laugh
The Father's Day homily was about the plight of Job. Father talked about how bad things happen to good people.
And how Job kept his patience.
And how everyone looked and Job and figured he must have done something to cause all this pain.
And I cried. I kept it together enough to survive the Mass, and let loose in the parking lot. The Mass was for Brian. The lector pronounced his name wrong. I shudder to think that my husband has been forgotten...or at least his name is not recognizable. I think we should have one of those things at church like they have when you look online at a radio station...they announce names and they have the pronunciation listed too.
Not Holly, like HALL-EE.
Not Hailie or Hailey or Halie or Haley or Haleigh, all pronounced HAY-LEE.
Just Halley, like valley and alley.
May sound stupid, but it is like a stab in the heart when his name is pronounced incorrectly. It doesn't really bother me when it is my name, I just usually politely correct them. But anyone saying Brian Halley would, in my opinion, have to have known something. I mean it isn't anything new, he's dead for God's sakes.
I figure the prayers for Brian Haley Holly Halley all count the same, so I shouldn't be so sensitive.
The girls were supposed to serve at the Mass. I was thankful that we could have the chance to celebrate Brian's life together at Mass, and to have the girls with Tye on a day he was missing his daddy so much. I was thankful that the girls were coincidentally scheduled to serve so it wouldn't take away from their time with their own father. Brian was such positive influence on them, and all of our lives were blessed by him. The weekend turned out to be a very busy one, and the girls overslept at their dad's, which led to them not coming to Mass. It was accidental, and I am glad they still had time to do most of their morning plans with Tim for Father's Day. I hadn't made other plans for the girls to remember Brian on Father's Day, other than going to Mass together; so consequently, the day came and went with basically no mention from the girls about Tye's daddy.
I cried. I cried a lot. I don't even know if I shed a tear last year on Father's Day. This year was a rough one. I have come to realize that we all grieve differently. Rachel and I have worked hard to respect each other and how we grieve. Even so, I find that when I'm sad, I get really tired of feeling like everyone else is "over it". Especially because I don't feel like I'm March 21, 2008 sad. It is a different sad. It is a lonely sad, and a missing Brian sad. It is a sad that comes with all the firsts. I don't know what I want or what I expect. I have finally come to realize that nothing really makes me feel better. Sometimes I hope people will bring up Brian to me, and other times I hope they won't because it hurts so bad. Sometimes when I think it will hurt, I find myself smiling instead. Lately I have really battled anger because I think the reality of my life has finally settled in on me.
Grief totally sucks. A close friend told me that she thought the 2nd year was harder than the 1st. I don't know what I think about that. I think so far, the 2nd year has been calmer. I think I smile more and enjoy more moments. I do think that when the pain surfaces, it hurts worse than it did a year ago. I think the numbness has worn off.
I promised a little laugh, so here goes.
I have drilled Tye (and the girls) about wearing sunscreen. Tye doesn't fight me on it anymore. I have been clear with him that his daddy died from melanoma, and wearing sunscreen helps us not get melanoma. So today we were going to the pool...
Tye: Get your sunscreen on Mom!
Me: Thanks for reminding me!
Tye: Yeah, because my dad died because he got sunburned!
Me: (Sigh). Well, actually that isn't the reason that Daddy died. Remember I told you that sunscreen can help us hopefully not get melanoma?
Tye: So he didn't get sunburned?
Me: (By now I am putting on sunscreen) No, he had a mole that made him sick.
Tye: A MOLE! (Then he dashes out of my room).
And comes back with the book The Mitten, with the pages flipped open to show a mole.
As. In. Mammal.
MOLE
mole1
/moʊl/ [mohl]
–noun
1. any of various small insectivorous mammals, esp. of the family Talpidae, living chiefly underground, and having velvety fur, very small eyes, and strong forefeet.
And how Job kept his patience.
And how everyone looked and Job and figured he must have done something to cause all this pain.
And I cried. I kept it together enough to survive the Mass, and let loose in the parking lot. The Mass was for Brian. The lector pronounced his name wrong. I shudder to think that my husband has been forgotten...or at least his name is not recognizable. I think we should have one of those things at church like they have when you look online at a radio station...they announce names and they have the pronunciation listed too.
Not Holly, like HALL-EE.
Not Hailie or Hailey or Halie or Haley or Haleigh, all pronounced HAY-LEE.
Just Halley, like valley and alley.
May sound stupid, but it is like a stab in the heart when his name is pronounced incorrectly. It doesn't really bother me when it is my name, I just usually politely correct them. But anyone saying Brian Halley would, in my opinion, have to have known something. I mean it isn't anything new, he's dead for God's sakes.
I figure the prayers for Brian Haley Holly Halley all count the same, so I shouldn't be so sensitive.
The girls were supposed to serve at the Mass. I was thankful that we could have the chance to celebrate Brian's life together at Mass, and to have the girls with Tye on a day he was missing his daddy so much. I was thankful that the girls were coincidentally scheduled to serve so it wouldn't take away from their time with their own father. Brian was such positive influence on them, and all of our lives were blessed by him. The weekend turned out to be a very busy one, and the girls overslept at their dad's, which led to them not coming to Mass. It was accidental, and I am glad they still had time to do most of their morning plans with Tim for Father's Day. I hadn't made other plans for the girls to remember Brian on Father's Day, other than going to Mass together; so consequently, the day came and went with basically no mention from the girls about Tye's daddy.
I cried. I cried a lot. I don't even know if I shed a tear last year on Father's Day. This year was a rough one. I have come to realize that we all grieve differently. Rachel and I have worked hard to respect each other and how we grieve. Even so, I find that when I'm sad, I get really tired of feeling like everyone else is "over it". Especially because I don't feel like I'm March 21, 2008 sad. It is a different sad. It is a lonely sad, and a missing Brian sad. It is a sad that comes with all the firsts. I don't know what I want or what I expect. I have finally come to realize that nothing really makes me feel better. Sometimes I hope people will bring up Brian to me, and other times I hope they won't because it hurts so bad. Sometimes when I think it will hurt, I find myself smiling instead. Lately I have really battled anger because I think the reality of my life has finally settled in on me.
Grief totally sucks. A close friend told me that she thought the 2nd year was harder than the 1st. I don't know what I think about that. I think so far, the 2nd year has been calmer. I think I smile more and enjoy more moments. I do think that when the pain surfaces, it hurts worse than it did a year ago. I think the numbness has worn off.
I promised a little laugh, so here goes.
I have drilled Tye (and the girls) about wearing sunscreen. Tye doesn't fight me on it anymore. I have been clear with him that his daddy died from melanoma, and wearing sunscreen helps us not get melanoma. So today we were going to the pool...
Tye: Get your sunscreen on Mom!
Me: Thanks for reminding me!
Tye: Yeah, because my dad died because he got sunburned!
Me: (Sigh). Well, actually that isn't the reason that Daddy died. Remember I told you that sunscreen can help us hopefully not get melanoma?
Tye: So he didn't get sunburned?
Me: (By now I am putting on sunscreen) No, he had a mole that made him sick.
Tye: A MOLE! (Then he dashes out of my room).
And comes back with the book The Mitten, with the pages flipped open to show a mole.
As. In. Mammal.
MOLE
mole1
/moʊl/ [mohl]
–noun
1. any of various small insectivorous mammals, esp. of the family Talpidae, living chiefly underground, and having velvety fur, very small eyes, and strong forefeet.
I wish I had a camera so you could have seen the shock on his face. A million things ran through my mind, and I admit, a brief flash of Brian fighting off a killer mole did cross my mind. I can only imagine what Tye was thinking.
So I got out the skin check cards and showed him a mole...
MOLE
–noun
a small, congenital spot or blemish on the human skin, usually of a dark color, slightly elevated, and sometimes hairy; nevus.
Tye giggled and giggled. While I do wish I could just laugh with Tye about some normal farting and burping, as documented in my other blog, I am thankful we can find humor instead of sadness in some things that are so serious.
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