Tag Archives: Love

It Is SO Freakin’ Hot ……

…… here in Houston that I am loathe to even open my front door.

If you could see the actual temperature you’d think I’m a huge crybaby …… as would I.
That’s because it’s really only 84 degrees. Usually, temperatures in the low to mid-80’s are almost delightful.
At least that’s how I feel when I’m in 84 degrees in …… oh, let’s say …… San Diego, northern California, New York …… even the middle of a desert.

But here in Houston, 84 degrees feels close to what I would consider hell to feel like. That’s because it’s 84 degrees with about a 12,254% humidity.
And no, I’m not exaggerating.
Much.

It’s so gross to wake up in the mornings and not be able to see sunlight because every window in your house is covered with water from the humidity.
Not to mention the steam that rolls off of the streets and sidewalks.
Don’t you wish you were here now?

There’s a huge, almost-private, pool behind my house. I can’t even begin to summon up the energy it would require to walk back there because HUMIDITY!

Enough about the air you could drown in.

Yesterday was a good day.
It was my birthday.
Since it’s a birthday that’s past my 29th year, we’ll just leave it at that.

I got Skyped, Face Timed, texted and Messaged by my kids …… so that was a win. 🙂
My parents came into town and we went to a movie (the new Avengers movie — avoid it), then to dinner, and then we decided to go see another movie that could redeem our two hours lost to the Avengers. We saw “Inside Out” and did indeed redeem our day. It’s very good. For all ages, but most especially for adults. I love Pixar because of that.

So all in all, it was a good day.
In spite of being one more year further away from 29.

In fact, when I opened my Face Book page last night and saw the hundreds of Happy Birthday messages from family and friends, it became a great day.
It’s nice to feel special at least one day of the year.
No matter how far I am from 29.

I’d love to post a picture of a doe standing in my yard, eating leaves off of a tree right outside my window yesterday …… but ever since Apple updated the last IOS system …… and changed iPhoto into Photos …… my pictures from my phone aren’t uploading onto my computer.
Not to be a whiner, but …… I hate Photos.
With a passion.
And when I went on line to find some help, I found out that I am not alone in this hatred.
Not by a long shot.

I’d love to know why the technology giants canNOT live by the credo, “If it ain’t broke, DON’T FIX IT!!”

So you’ll just have to imagine a lovely doe standing under a tree in my back yard.
And then imagine Gracie growling and barking her head off at it.

And then you can imagine Gracie noticing that two dogs are on a TV show, and then going nuts barking, growling and running over to the TV to try to get at them.
I have that on video.
Which may never see the light of day.
Thank you, Apple.

That’s it for now. I need to start a packing list for my vacation with my six, plus Little Bit, plus one significant other, to Florida next week.
Where, hopefully, our lungs won’t fill with water every time we take a deep breath.

Maybe I should go buy some scuba gear for us to walk around in.

Later, Peeps.
🙂

Pieces of My Heart ……

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…… are all over the place.

There’s a piece in Philadelphia.
There’s a piece in Waco.
There’s a piece in Dallas.
There’s a piece in Austin.
And there’s a piece in Oklahoma, most of the year.

You can probably guess why that is.
It’s where my children are.
Daughter #3 is with me in NY so that piece gets to stay here.
Until she moves back to Texas in August.

All of that is to say that, while there will always be pieces of my heart wherever my children live, the rest of my heart is here …… in NY.
For the past few months I’ve been struggling with when to be here, and when to be in Texas. I thought I had figured it out. I planned to be here in the spring and summer, and then return to Texas for September till May.
And I was trying to be satisfied with that plan.
But I wasn’t.

So I’ve been praying about it and wondering what I should do. I felt that I should be in Texas because …… well, because that’s where we/I have been for 24 years. It’s where Jim last lived.
And most of my kids live there.

I know that there are thousands of people who live in two places and are happy doing that.
But I’ve found that I can’t really live fully in either place when I’m not there full time. It’s hard to commit to people or things (like volunteering, a year long Bible study, monthly meetings, etc) when I’m only here/there part time.

But I thought I’d power through it.
Then this week, and more specifically this weekend, I felt God saying, “You need to get on with your life, fully, and your life is here.”
I’ve found a church I really, really like (Thank you, RL!). A very diverse church where I am in the minority due to my age, and my race. And I love it.
It’s alive.
And growing.
And feels like home.

I’ve found a place to volunteer on a regular basis.
And I love it, too.

NY is where the rest of my heart is.
And where my life is.
Now.

At church yesterday morning the main point of the message was, coincidentally (I think NOT!) … “Does what you hold on to lead you to greater fear, or lead you to greater faith?”
Wow.

Holding on to NY leads me to greater faith.
It means leaving what I’ve known for two decades.
It means leaving people that I’ve loved for two decades.
It means trusting God enough to let go.

Holding on to TX leads to fear.
Fear that I’ll never leave because it’s “safe”.
Fear that my life will never be as good as it was there …… “before”.
Fear that if I let go, I’ll lose control.
Which is hysterical, because Jim’s death taught me that there’s really very little that I can control.

I sat in church yesterday, and listened to God.
And felt a huge weight lift off of me.
I almost felt giddy.
It felt great to let go.

So, I’m going to live in NY.
Full time.
I know a couple of people who will be sad at this decision.
(I’m talking to you LB and NB.)
But I also know a couple of people who will be happy at it.
(I’m talking to you BL and KL.)

I’m not going to sell my house in Texas.
Yet.
That will require a lot of work.
I’ll have to get rid of almost everything in it.
And figure out what to do with the stuff I have to keep.
That will take time.

I’ll still go back to visit every few months or so, but NY will now be home.
I totally love this city.
And I’m excited for the future.
And, after living the first four or so years of my “after” without that excitement, it’s feels great.

Now all of the pieces of my heart will be right where they belong.
🙂

I Signed a Contract Last Night ……

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…… to sell our house.
Not my home, the one I live in when I’m in Texas, but our house.
The one where Jim and I raised our children.
The one the boys and I lived in at the time of his death.
The one we stayed in during the first several years of the horrible “after”.
The one that used to be a home.
The one Jim and I thought we’d own for a very long time.

But “we” didn’t.

I haven’t lived in that house for a year now. A year on May 1st, to be exact. I signed a contract on my new house that day and never spent another night in the other one.
In September of last year I started renting it to a family. The day I signed the rental agreement was the last day I was in that house.
The last day I drove down that street.
I’ve never been back, even though I still live in the same small community.
I was done.
I didn’t want to have anything more to do with that house and looked forward to the day I could sell it.

Or so I thought.

I signed a contract last night.
And this morning, the power of that signature …… the officialness of it …… is bringing tears to my eyes.
I still don’t want that house, and I really, really don’t want to live in it again.
But I guess my heart kind of does.
Not as it is now, but as it was.
In my “before”.

I’m crying for something I don’t really want.
And for something I simply can’t have.
Ever.

But then again, it’s not that simple.
Here in the “after”, my emotions rarely feel simple. They’re often mixed with feelings I can’t describe, emotions I don’t understand, tears that sometimes come out of nowhere.
And that’s difficult to grasp, let alone explain to someone else.
Or write about on a blog.

None of us can have the past.
But it’s not really the past that I want.
It’s the now …… that was supposed to be.
I wish with all my heart that “we” were still in that house.
In our home.
But wishes don’t always come true.
That one never will.

I know that I’ll be relieved when we close on it in a couple of weeks.
I also know that I’ll most likely cry at that closing.
But hopefully not for long.

My “after” is good.
It’s not what I wanted, but it’s good.
The future is unknown, but it’s also something I look forward to experiencing.
Finally.

Life goes on.
And I’m moving forward.
Sometimes with tears, but I’m ok with that.

And, in what can only be described as the irony of moving forward …… the day that I signed a contract to sell our house, Daughter #2 signed a contract to buy her first house.

Sometimes life goes full circle.
🙂

Such A Simple Act ……

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…… can bring forth so many emotions and memories.

I went to the theatre last night with several friends. Four of them were married couples. I sat next to one of them, chatting and laughing until the lights were turned down and the play prepared to start.
At that point, the husband simply laid his hand on his leg, palm up. With no words, and hardly any time at all, his wife lovingly put her hand in his.
And there they remained.

So simple.
So full of unspoken words and swirls of emotions.

I miss that.
The simplest of acts.
Yet it can speak volumes.

Jim and I never talked about holding hands. It just grew into a natural occurrence. Whenever we walked anywhere …… on a path, into a building, around an exhibit …… anywhere, our hands automatically found each other. It wasn’t even a thought most of the time. It was like our hands were magnets that drew each other together.

So simple.
And yet so very, very missed.

As I watched my friends hold hands throughout the play, I didn’t feel sad. I felt more wistful, I guess. I felt warm memories and I was happy for them …… that they, too, had this simple act between them.

I smiled.
For them.
And for me.

Here’s What I’ve Realized ……

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(source)

…… in the past two days.
Everybody …… absolutely every single person on this earth …… needs to know that they have been missed.
Because being missed means that you matter.
To someone.

Yes, I realize that this seems like a basic piece of knowledge, or maybe it should be. But I’ve found that it’s not really. We all need to be told that we are missed …… and we all need to tell people who matter to us that we miss them.
This is not one of those pieces of information that you can take for granted …… but we do.

Sure, you think that your loved ones know you miss them.
So why bother to get all mushy and tell them, right?
After all, they know.
Right?

No. That’s not right.
We are human beings, and as such, we can be very fragile, no matter how hard we pretend that we aren’t. Because being fragile is negative, isn’t it? We should be strong. Who cares if we’re missed or not missed? We can do just fine on our own, thank you very much.
We just slip on one of the many masks we keep hidden in our closet and voila! No one knows what we look like beneath the mask. No one can see the tears, thankfully.
No one can see that we’re …… God forbid …… human.

And so we help to perpetuate the myth that all is well. We’re all strong. We’re all just fine, thank you very much.
If we’re missed, great. If we’re not, no problem.
If we’re loved, nice. If we’re not, it’s your loss, not ours.

What a load of crap.

I’m just as guilty as anyone else in this category. I miss so very many people. On a daily basis.
Hell, on a second to second basis.
But I rarely tell all of those people how much I miss them.
First of all, it would take all day.
Second of all, what if they don’t miss me back?
Ouch.

I have deeply missed the people at my “old” church. And the responses and comments that I received telling me the same (from my previous post) made me cry.
I didn’t realize until then how much I need to feel missed.
How much I need to feel loved.

There are people in my life who tell me this on a regular basis, as I do them.
I’d say that 99.9% of them are widowed. Or have experienced a profound loss, too.
Once that changes your life forever, you can’t help but love people fiercely and tell them so.

It’s the people in your “before” life that fall into the cracks. There’s no finger of blame to point, I can’t come up with a reason why, it just happens. On both sides.
And that’s a shame.

I need my “before” people in my life.
I need people who knew Jim.
Who knew Jim and Janine.

Yes, it can be a huge relief to have people in my life who only know the “after Janine”, as I’m sure any widowed person feels.
But I think we still need those who knew and loved the “before us”.

I think I’ve been pondering this more lately because my heart has been hurting so much for my sweet friend whose son died recently.
I’ve never experienced the death of a child. And yet, the two of us are connecting with the grief our hearts hold. I’m not sure if it’s because I loved her “before”, or because she’s a single parent and so she’s going through this loss alone. I think it’s probably both.
Her heart not only breaks for the future her son will never have, but for the future she’ll never have with a partner. Both losses are slamming into her on a constant basis.

I always thought that if one of our children died, Jim and I would get through it together. The loss of him was greater than the potential loss of one of our children.
But now, with him gone, the loss of one of my children would …… I can’t even go there.

Yet my friend wakes up there every single day. I want to take her pain away. But I know I can’t.
I want to tell her that things will get better soon. But we both know they won’t.
All I can do is be there for her. Sit with her, listen to her, cry with her.
But she needs more than just me. She needs a boatload of people who can, and will, do this with her.

Grief is exhausting.
And hard to carry alone.
If you know someone who’s carrying it, please help them.
Just offer to sit with them.
Tell them that you love them.
Tell them that you miss them.
Tell them, above all, that you miss their loved one.
Because that matters.

You matter.
Your words matter.
Your feelings matter.
So share them.

And help someone know that they matter.

Life is too precious to do alone.

What Better Way ……

The Day is Done ……

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…… and we she survived the groomer.

On Thursday I was told that it would take two hours.
This morning, when I dropped her off at 11:00, I was told to pick her up between 3:30 and 4:00. Four and a half to five hours??!!
Holy cow! I didn’t say much, just passed over her treat bag that they had told me to bring so that they could ~~bribe~~ coax her into holding still. She was so nervous that she wouldn’t take one from me.
She’s a lot like me …… definitely not a stress eater.

Since it was going to be such a long appointment, I decided to get some errands done and see a movie, which I did.
I finally saw “Still Alice”. Now, I read that book a few years ago and thought it was very good, though very disturbing …… to me. And depressing.
So, it’s taken me a while to be able to see it. When I know that a movie is going to be horrendously violent, horrifically depressing, or anything that touches too close to home (dead spouses and such), I don’t just run out and see it the first chance I get. I have learned that I need to be in the right frame of mind to see a movie like that.
Some people don’t understand that, and seem to get frustrated over it, but that’s not my problem. I know my mind …… and my heart. And I know that something like that can send me into a tailspin for a few days, and trust me …… tailspins aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
So if I wait until I’m in a mood to see, and deal with it …… it’s all good.

I’m glad that I had read the book, so I knew what to expect. And really, the main reason I went was to see Julianne Moore’s acting. She’s nominated for an Oscar (which she well deserves) and I wanted to see her for myself.
So I did, and I’m fine.
No tailspin.

It’s the same thing with “American Sniper”. I’d like to see that. But the time hasn’t been right. Knowing the end beyond the end, makes the thought of this much worse.
Also, my father-in-law was a Marine Sniper in WWII. He was shot on Okinawa …… by a Japanese Sniper. Ironic?
I think he spent the better part of 2 years hospitalized and recuperating. He was told he’d never walk again.
But the man is nothing if not stubborn.
(Yes, all six of my kids have a double dose …… ALL of them. Sigh ……)
And he showed them.
He not only walked but farmed his own land for decades. He’s still living on the farm and still putters around out there, though I think he leaves the harvesting to his youngest son. By the way, he’s almost 88 or 89.

I know that I have totally digressed from my original post, but I’m going to digress some more. Just because I think this is a great story.

One day, back in the old days when we had only 4 children (I think. We could’ve had 5 …… maybe.), my in-laws were visiting us down in Texas. I had an appointment to take one of the kids to see our pediatrician. On a whim I asked my FIL if he’d like to come along with me.
Now, you have to know that I have no idea why I did that. I didn’t make a habit of asking him to accompany me anywhere, and if I had, he most likely would’ve said no.
But for whatever reason, I asked …… and he said yes. So we loaded up the one kid (I have no idea which one and it’s not relevant) and off we went. We got out of the car at the office and started walking up to the door.
My FIL read the sign on the door, listing the doctor’s name and said, “Hmmmmmm, ___________. I wonder if he’s any relation to the surgeon I had in the war?”
Now the doctor’s last name was not a common name. So I asked him where that would have been? He couldn’t remember exactly, but knew it was either on the ship, where he was for a very long time, or the hospital in California, where he ended up for a VERY long time.
Suddenly, I remembered that our doctor was in the Naval Reserve, which I told my FIL. “Yes”, he said. His doctor had also been in the Navy.

Now, I knew that our doctor was older, but I didn’t think it was possible that he was THE doctor we were talking about. But I told my FIL that I’d ask him once we got called back.
They called us back and I took my child while my FIL stayed in the waiting room. I don’t know if he was just reading or if we had brought more than one child (though I don’t think so) and he was watching him.

When the doctor came into the exam room, he started to examine my child (which I really think was one of the boys). I cleared my throat and did my best to not sound like a stalker …… and asked, “Was your father in World War II?”
He stopped looking at my child and looked at me.
“Yes”, he said, kind of cautiously.
“Was he a doctor in the war? Either on a ship or in California?”
At this point the doctor was looking quite suspicious of me. Yes, we’d been patients for a few years now, but I guess none of his others had asked about his private life before.
“Yes, he was. Why are you asking?” he said, warily.

“Well, my FIL was a sniper in WWII and was shot on Okinawa. He had surgery on a ship and after several months he ended up in a hospital in California. He said that his surgeon’s name was ________. Your last name.”

He stood up straight and just stared at me for a minute. I wondered if I’d have to perform CPR or something, which would’ve been a bit awkward, since I hadn’t taken a CPR class since I was pregnant with Daughter #1.
His prospects, should his heart have stopped …… did not look good.

Thankfully, he finally looked at me rather incredulously and said that yes, his father had indeed been a surgeon on the USS _______ (if you expect me to remember that then you obviously don’t know me very well), AND in a Naval hospital in California.

He asked where my FIL was and I surprised him with, “In the waiting room.” He could hardly contain his excitement as he followed me back out to the waiting room and met Jim’s dad. Yes, his father really was my FIL’s surgeon/doctor who cared for him back in the day. Way, way, WAY back in the day.
And our pediatrician was over the moon about that. He loved it.
From that point on he always asked how my FIL was when he saw us, whether that was in the office or in a grocery store.
He told his dad about meeting my FIL and his dad always asked about Jim’s dad whenever they saw each other.

I ran into our old doctor sometime last year. We are past the point of pediatricians and he’s long since retired, but he still knows me and stops to inquire about Jim’s dad. He told me that his father had passed away in the last year, but that he always asked about his former patient. He loved the story of us putting two and two together and realizing that it is, indeed, a small world.

There you go.
A wonderful, poignant story.
And it’s true.

And with that …… I shall leave you with before and after pictures of my adorable, precious, precocious puppy. 🙂

Look at all of that hair in her eyes! This is a couple of weeks old, so her hair was even longer that that this morning.

And Voila! She has eyes!! She can see! And she looks a whole lot smaller and weighs less than she did earlier in the day.
She’s just as feisty though. And is chewing on everything she can get her teeth on. Though it’s a bit more difficult now because she’s lost her bottom baby teeth. She’s now gumming everything to death! ROFL!!

I hope you all had a good weekend.
Stay warm.
Or cool.
Whatever floats your boat.

🙂

I Know They Don’t Mean to ……

1 Reply

…… but people can be SO freakin’ insensitive.

Thursday night I went to see this show:

It was cute and fun …… but my heart just wasn’t in it. My sweet friend, Amy had just lost her beautiful 15 year old son. I hadn’t even wanted to leave the apartment, but figured it would be good to get out.
A woman behind me whistled and shouted out during the entire show. The show was ok, but it certainly isn’t even in my top 20. And it was not whistle-worthy, let alone shouting-appropriate.
During intermission she was standing in the aisle, next to my seat, carrying on about what a terrific show it was and what a great time she was having. I was reading the Playbill when she suddenly leaned over, very close to my face and asked, rather pointedly, “Are YOU having a good time?”. I knew that she asked because I wasn’t carrying on and on about it, nor overly clapping.
For about a second I debated on telling her, “A friend of mine lost her son tonight, so NO, I’m not having a particularly good time, thank you.”

But I didn’t. She was clueless. But she also needs to stop and think before she does something like that.
We never know what the person next to us, or in front of us, is going through. We have no right to question their enthusiasm, or any other emotion.
We just need to stop.
And think.

In other news …… it is flippin’ cold here!! It got down to 17 degrees early this morning. It was so cold that I didn’t need to sleep with my window open and it was still 67 degrees in my bedroom when I got up.
So, for one of the first times ever …… I turned the heat on in there.
It’s that cold.

Tomorrow I’m taking Gracie in to get her first grooming. I’m really hoping that she still looks like a precious puppy when I pick her up. I don’t want a “grownup cut” on her … just a trim.
It’s also the first time I’ll be leaving her somewhere, although it’s only 2 hours or so.
I wonder if they’ll have to give her a sedative?
Or maybe me?
🙂

On Wednesday I’m leaving for Tampa and Camp Widow West. It’ll be nice to see everyone, especially friends whom I haven’t seen in too long.

I’d like to say that I’m looking forward to going, but my heart is hurting. When that happens it’s hard to “look forward” to much of anything.
I wish that I could go to Texas and be there for the funeral. I know that my friend won’t really know if I’m there or not, but it feels like I should go.
I checked flights this morning and the news wasn’t great. There’s another storm heading this way so I could very well end up stuck there, when I’m supposed to be leaving from NY on Wednesday.
Finding that out made me cry.
So for the next few days, my body will be in NY, but my heart will most definitely be in Texas.

There are so very many things I don’t understand. Like how a person can seem perfectly fine one minute, and then die a day later from bacterial meningitis, or an aortic dissection.
And why truly good people die, people who would’ve made such a positive impact in our world, while truly evil people live.

But even though I know that I’ll never understand those things, and many more, I will trust God.
I know that He’s led me to this point in my life.
I know that He has a plan for me, even though I sometimes think that this plan sucks.
I don’t have to understand everything, but I’m allowed to question. I’m allowed to cry, scream, and beat my fists upon the floor.
I’m allowed to be human.

And I know, that even in my humanity …… no, because of my humanity, my Father loves me unconditionally.
And that love has been with me in very dark caves, and through the Valley of Death.
I know that it will be with me as long as I live …… and after.

Even those days, like today, when I question Him.

We Survived ……

So ……

1 Reply

…… Christmas was good.
Really good.
And though you might not believe it, most of the time you would’ve been hard pressed to know that there were 9 people, a baby and a puppy in the apartment!
In fact, there were a couple of times when one of us noted how quiet/empty the apartment was.
That’s NY for you, Baby!!!
So much to do and see that your apartment doesn’t get cramped.
🙂

All of the kids made it safely.
Son #3 had a slight hiccup with United Airlines and ended up spending in the night in the Dulles Airport. After which he informed me in no uncertain terms that he in now done with that airline.
I didn’t pay too much attention.
I couldn’t blame him, but I still didn’t pay much attention.

Which made him all the more happier when, on his way home, his flight out of here was delayed/cancelled because the pilot didn’t show up for his shift that day.
To that I have to say this: Karma is a bitch, man.
🙂

It all worked out in the end. After several hours the found someone else and he did end up making his connecting flight out of Chicago to Oklahoma, so all’s right with the world.
As long as I don’t book him on United ever, ever again.
I told him that as soon as he had enough cash to buy his own airline tickets he could buy whatever he wanted, but until then, I would continue to go with the best deal.
Then he said, “Fine, I’ll start buying my own.”
Which makes one (or maybe just me) ponder: Where does he think that money will come from? Will it float down from heaven? Will he sell even more plasma??
Oh well, it’s grand to be 20 and oh-so-wise-to-the-ways-of-the-world.

Little Bit did pretty well, for a three old that was totally out of his element. He was a bit fussy at times but he was also chatty and laughing a good deal of the time. He’s such a joy to hold and talk to, especially early in the morning, which seems to be his favorite time.

The kid is growing by leaps and bounds. I think there may have been some items I purchased a few weeks ago that he never got to wear because he’s suddenly busting out!!
But that gives me a good reason to go baby-clothes shopping, so whoop!!!!
He did a great job on the planes and gave his mama some stress-free flight time. I was happy for both of them.

Gracie is doing well and still has my heart wrapped around her little stump of a tail. Mostly.
I’ve got to find out out to train her to stop nipping at everyone with fingers. Especially her two year old friend that Daughter #3 takes care of. He LOVES Gracie and she loves him back with equal abandonment, but she just can’t control her “love bites”.
Help.

OK, I’m going to end this now so that I can go to bed. I’ll go ahead a publish it, but I’m hoping to come back to it and add pictures and stories in the next day or so.
So please ignore all typos.
Please.

Happy New Year, Peeps!

	mysecondplana on 18 ……
	mysecondplana on 18 ……
	Cindy Trammell on 18 ……
	Saundra on 18 ……
	Lorraine on The Lack of Touch ……

My Second Plan A

After my first Plan A ended tragically, and all too soon, I came up with my second Plan A. It took a while, but now I'm ready to live again. And live fully.