Jsack's Mom's Blog

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

Monday Musing-Riding the grief wave

I look at my reflection in the mirror and I’m a mixed tumble of messy emotions.  I don’t feel sad or cry everyday and there’s bursts of enthusiasm for life and all the wonderful things that make me happy. My family, friends, reading, writing, and creating something from nothing. Whether that’s in my kitchen or my craft room making something fills my happy bucket. 

Last year I suffered the loss of three special people in my life and just when I feel I’m dealing with my grief someone else dies! What do you do when you’re grieving during the month of love? Sometimes I can feel these emotions ebbing and flowing like the tides towards my heart. I can catch it in time or let it wash over me and fill me with overwhelming love or sadness. 

Sometimes it’s a mixture of both as this month has been difficult for me since the death of my parents. Seven years ago for my dearest Dad and five for my beloved Mama I had to say goodbye. Their leaving has left a huge hole in my heart in the shape of their love. I’ve done my best to live around that hole and create a new “normal.” Sometimes I succeed and then the grief wave threatens to pull me under again. Under the water where I’m drowning in emotion and struggling to breathe with the weight of my tears. 

I’ve been in counselling a lot of my life. I started when I was twelve in family therapy then continued on into adulthood. I still see someone when the urge arises and he thinks I need to deal with my grief instead of just trying to survive it. In the last ten years of my marriage my husband and I collectively had to say goodbye to ten loved ones. In the seven years since my Dad, step sisters, and my Mom’s deaths I’ve been in grief recovery in some form of another. Whether it was journaling, actively seeing a therapist, or in a support group. 

I’ve learned a lot about myself and I even wrote up a timeline of my happy and sad times in my life to track my triggers. The happiness is about feeling loved and discovering something new. The sadness always centres around a death in my life since I was three years old. I was born to older parents so I was around older people in my family tree. To me this was my life not anything unusual until I went to school and my friends parents were the same age as my older siblings! That was a shock as I never thought about all these special people leaving me. 

Some may say that dealing with death so young prepared me for the path I need to take to resilience. I have questioned my own mortality, mourned for a a young life snuffed out by tragic circumstances, and have wrote out my living will to prepare my family. I’ve learned a lot during this time of self reflection and pain yet still feel like there’s more to discover. As I carve out a new “normal” and live around this void in my heart. I keep taking it one step, one breath, one journey at a time. With all that I have lost I’ve gained more love, perspective and appreciation; for all the people who have touched my life on this earthly and heavenly plane and for that I’m grateful. 

It’s time for #MondayMusings and it’s being co-hosted by Everyday Gyaan and The Philosopher’s Stone
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#Monday Musings-Rejection

She stared at the words on her phone screen goodbye as her tears started to fall and the words blurred into a black squiggly mess. It’s how some people choose to communicate breaking up, getting fired, and ending friendships via text. It’s how disconnected and disingenuous our world has become when this is thought of as an appropriate form of communication. And yet knowing this didn’t stop the pain that she felt as the reality crashed down on her like a ton of emotional back logged sludge. Any way you slice the rejection pie it hurts. 

Goodbye-it seemed so easy to say after many years of a childhood friendship that ends in tatters and torment from one persons choices. She couldn’t understand the finality of those words but as days turned into weeks, and weeks into months it became abundantly clear. How was she supposed to break away from those feelings of guilt for stating an opinion, questions that were mistaken for judgement, how did she become enemy #1 when she had been supportive for so long? 

She wrestled with her own guilt and remorse for things spoken and not said. For all those times when death came knocking on ones door taking a loved one and how that friendship remained loyal and steadfast and supportive through those dark times. When she became so wrapped up in her own grief that she couldn’t breath through the tightness in her chest and her scalp where even her hair began to hurt! 

She was no stranger to grief as she had to say goodbye to her Grandparents, followed by the deaths of her Father and step sister who left the world in sickness and confusion. There was no one to save them from Cancer or a broken soul that couldn’t take the pain of living in the world any longer. Where she could still hear the incessant sound of the PSP pump when it ran out of morphine that was allowing her dear Dad to go gentle into that goodnight. A month after in her tear stained, grief encased fog she was met with the news of the suicide that her step sister took to end her pain. This death so fresh, shocking, and regrettable when the path of her existence of loss and devastation was to great to bear. She began to question what life was all about, how would she survive when her heart felt like it was literally broken in two, and how would she continue to get out of bed and raise her child? 

At one time there were loving arms to wrap around her as the death of her Mother brought her to a halt. When words failed her and she sang so loud and proud on the final day of goodbye that even heaven could hear her. Then after the song stopped and she closed her mouth the tears flowed and the grief wall overtook her like lava from an erupting volcano and burned up her heart. She couldn’t walk without assistance as her bulging pregnant belly and aching hips gave in to the world of loss around her. Words spilled out of her mouth but could find no meaning as they became fear infused stuttering. 

Somehow she managed to carry on and walk that path of hopelessness and loss and raise her children and live to face another day. She had successes, job transfers, losing and loving new friends that entered her life. Each move felt like another form of painful ending mixed with the excitement of a new beginning. So much so that she didn’t know if she really was coming or going in the chaotic existence she had carved out for herself. 

How did she say goodbye to a thirty year friendship, she didn’t have a choice she just had to let it go and grieve another loss in her life as her heart bled on the page once again…

  Today I share this with the #Mondaymusings link up hosted by Corinne of Write Tribe and co-hosted by Philosophers Stone

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*Image used with permission from http://www.bravegirlsclub.com and found on their Facebook page hehttps://www.facebook.com/BraveGirlsClub/photos/a.143945461409.136897.138801301409/10153709766621410/?type=3re

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I’m not ready to say goodbye

  
When I got the news today my knees hit the floor and I cried with a vengeance. No I screamed in my head you weren’t supposed to die! Someone so loving, giving, caring with the biggest, most beautiful heart wasn’t supposed to leave this earth. Now that you’re gone, I’ve held my children tighter. Knowing that you won’t be physically there to hold yours tears me apart. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I just sent you a message last week telling you how I loved and missed you. 
You drove that stretch of road so many times, for so many different reasons. Why should today be any different? Why would this trip from point A to point B be your last? Life just isn’t fair sometimes, people are born and people will die everyday. But not you, or never should’ve been you. Thinking of you alone and tumbling through the air as your vehicle left the road fills me such heartache I can scarcely breathe. Even now the tears fall silently down my face thinking of my memories of you. 

If I could write a book I would fill it with my thoughts of you. The way your eyes danced when you were mischievous, the way your laughter bubbled out of you with abundant joy. The way you made me feel when you hugged me so tight. How you’d say “Mama we can get through anything, because we’re survivors, it’s what we do!” And I know it’s your words ringing true in my head and heart today. 

I would fill each chapter with your wisdoms, all the times I quoted you for your brilliance. And how when you get so excited and start talking a mile a minute, I would from and I’d say “breathe love, you’re not going anywhere.” I was wrong you always were going somewhere as you filled up your life and love with people who adored you as much as I did. You never said no, or turned anyone away. You’d drive across the province to lend a helping hand, make your kids happy, make life easier for someone else it was your way. Anyone who experienced your love was changed forever. 

Even now I read all the kind and wonderful words people have left behind. They too are mourning your loss. They won’t see your beautiful smile when they walk through the doors of your work. Greeting them with warm hellos and how are you today? Your bosses were blessed to have you as long as they did, and I was so happy that they told you so. You mattered to many, and not only your family mourns you but a whole community does. 

To touch so many lives and hearts for your short time on earth was a gift. You filled my life with sunshine and love. And my children adored you as I do yours. What will happen to them now that they’re gone? They will never have to question your love for them. They felt that in everything you did. From the sweet little nicknames you gave them, to teaching them independence, to your beautiful smile and Mama bear hugs. I pray that they will all stay together to heal in their grief. You etched an imprint on their hearts that will never fade or be replaced by another. You were their North Star guiding them to safe harbour. You were their quiet place when the world was noisy and annoying. 

You were their safety net when others let them down. Who do they follow now that the light has burnt out in your eyes? My answer is no one, you were their light, love, soft heart, their Mother; there will never be another. You were the yin to my yang, and talked me off the ledge plenty of times in that gentle way you had. I still remember the first time we met. How you smiled that mega watt grin and said hello and extended your hand to me. I was new to town and knew no one. You looked at my son in my arms and stroked his cheek and I felt safe with you. You patted his head and said “so blonde, and so beautiful just like his Mama.” And in that instance I fell in love with your kind spirit. 

As our friendship grew stronger my love and admiration for you did too. That moment that you called me by my childhood nickname I was taken aback. I told you I hadn’t heard it since my Mom died how did you know? You said “it just fit, it was perfect it was who you are.” And then I gave you a nickname and I never called you anything but. We bonded over so many things, but the loss of our Mothers affected our whole beings. You knew of that pain of wanting the one and only women we had ever loved and trusted, more than anyone in the world to hold us. You had been a few years into your grief, and I was year into mine. 

You saw the pain in my eyes that I tried to hide from others, but you recognized it instantly as you had your own. I was coming back to town soon and I knew I was going to see you. I was going to pop into your work and surprise you. I knew I could do that because you were never a slave to social media, and how you gently teased me about “my need for my social newsfeed.” I picture the look on your face as you looked up to see who was coming in the door, and how you’d run out and give me the tightest hug. Now I will come back and see you one last time, as my heart is stacked with pain and remorse. I don’t want to say goodbye to you. I’m not ready, prepared, or able to do so. Today when you left the world a small fragment of me went with you. To a place I pray is your happy place. 

We talked about heaven and what you thought was waiting for you there. How you hoped it would have beautiful mountains, lakes and trees that you so dearly loved in your town. I was so sad when I had to leave you behind when I moved away. I wouldn’t have got through those four months of solo parenting while my husband worked away, without you. When I asked your help you told me “I love you and I love your son’s I will help you, we will make this work.” And how my kids loved when you and the girls would come over. The dance parties, games, the singing, and cupcakes. I always seemed to have a never ending supply of happiness when you were around. And after the kids went to bed the copious amounts wine we would drink and the laughs we would have. 

I don’t want to say goodbye to you it’s just too hard to even mouth those words. I’m devastated like your family is, they had you longer so I don’t even feel a right to my feelings. How do they go on without you? When can they speak your name without dissolving into tears like I do? Thinking of not seeing that mischievous grin or hearing infectious laughter makes me want to scream it’s just not right, or fair! Somehow life will go on, people will go to work, kids will go to school, the earth will keep spinning on its axis. Even though I feel it’s all off kilter and imbalanced waiting for you to come back. 

I feel you nearby watching and waiting not able to take your journey to the other side. You remain fixed until you know everyone is ok. This is how you were in life, and I wouldn’t expect anything less from you in death. I’m just not going to get over losing you. There will be a space in my heart that is the shape of you. You were such an amazing friend, sister of my heart, Mother, daughter sister, Aunty, and cousin. There will never be a day where I speak your name and the memories of wonderful you will come flooding back. I hold those close to my heart for that’s all I have left now. Until we meet again my sweet friend, I will keep you and your family in my heart and prayers always. ❤️

 

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Ode to my Mom

Elizabeth Louise was her name.
Loved by everyone who knew her.
Intrinsically gifted with humour and the gift of gab.
Zealous with her love, honesty, and faith.
Amazing with her glowing light of virtue and trust.
Beautiful beyond measure inside and out.
Eloquently soft spoken with a sharp wit.
Talented, gifted, devoted to the ones she loved.
Heart of gold, my best friend, and heroine of my dreams.

This is a poem for my beloved Mama. She was my gift, to my siblings, and the world. Today I wrote this poem for her as part of my Day 3 Blogging 201 assignment. The word trust was the prompt and in the acrostic form of poetry.

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My first love

Well here I am daydreaming after an a fun weekend and today’s topic is about a first love. I’ve actually wanted to write about him for awhile. He left a big impression on me in my childhood. Since I don’t use names in my blog (without permission) I’ll just call him Mr. S. He and I had a long history together as we met when we were 4 and ready to enter kindergarten. I wasn’t a girly girl until my teens (and discovering boys) so we were a good match. We’d play baseball, climb trees, make mud pies, and hang out in the sandbox. We attended kindergarten rode the bus, played, rode bikes, and were always together. He was what my Mom would call a dream boat, he had dark brown hair, and crystal blue eyes. Just like Elvis Presley my Mom’s idol who made her swoon. Mr. S had this incredible smile and a giggle that would give me butterflies in my tummy! He was the sun, the moon, and stars to me. Everyone in school knew he was mine and I was his, and my Mom would say we were like peas in a pod. In our kindergarten room we had a shiny linoleum floor, and when us kids would get into class we’d race. We would whip off our shoes and slide across the floor in our socks. Mr. S and I would always win those races, sliding together hand in hand smiling. As we we grew older he grew bolder, in his advances towards me. When I was only 12 the last thing on my mind was sex! So his interests went to other girls that he thought he could get more from. It was a different era then today, and the girls that I knew just didn’t go all the way! So his perpetual supply of testosterone was never satisfied. As much as his antics hurt my feelings, somehow he’d apologize and I’d forgive him. It didn’t matter what he did, he’d always find his way back to me. Mr. S was my first kiss, my first make out session, and my first heartbreak. My favourite times with him was when he’d take me out on his dirt bike and we’d go riding for hours. We’d sit on mountaintops and cuddle and talk about our dreams for the future. He was an only child so he always wanted to have a big family. I was the youngest of 6, so that’s what I wanted too. He knew what it was like to grow up lonely being the only one. I’d dream about our future kids and about the house we’d build for them on that mountain top. We entered high school with our dreams, and aspirations for life leading the way. It was grade 8 and a very abundant time of discovery so we joined our groups of friends and still remained a couple. Then one day it all changed and one boy started to bully me. One by one friends that I’d grown up with since kindergarten joined his ranks. And my beloved Mr. S was part of this gang. It broke my heart into a thousand pieces the first time he said something cruel to me. I was hurt, confused, and in shock because I had only known him to be kind and loving. 💔 Well when he wasn’t chasing other girls and making a fool of himself and me. That was the worst year of my life, and you can read more about it in my previous blogs, if you so wish. He did eventually apologize to me and would still want to hang out with me when the bullying gang wasn’t around. But my hurt ran deep, and my pride was even stronger and for once, overruled what my heart wanted. I’ll never forget the day my Dad took me to the houses of all those boys who bullied me. And when Mr. S came out to apologize to me he just mumbled how much he always liked me, he didn’t mean to hurt me, and we held each other and cried. That following September, I moved onto another school so I didn’t see him again until I was an adult. There I was with my boyfriend (my husband now) 21 and I was blonder, bolder, and stronger. We talked a little, but he just kept staring at me and telling me he couldn’t believe it was really me! I was taking my fitness training so I was looking damn fine, and I have to tell you it was the best revenge. 😉 He tried to talk about the past but I wouldn’t let him. I told him I’m happy, in love, and NO ONE would ever make me think less of myself again!!! Mr. S met my boyfriend and we shared some beers and some laughs at the bar. In my mind, heart, and life I had moved on and the trip down memory lane was on my terms. Sometimes I think about him, now that I’m content with my life as wife and Mom. I wonder if he ever got married and had that big family he always wanted. And if in his quiet moments if he ever thinks about me, his first love….

Today’s Sunday confession brought to you by the awesome Ash from http://www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Head over there and read about her first love, and all the other lovely bloggers who link up. Smooches and hugs. 😘

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