Self Under Construction

Well, I did it. I have officially decided to take time for myself, I have decided to for once to take care of me. This decision has racked me with pain, guilt and many sleepless nights. By all means, the outward appearance that everyone sees is of someone who is smiling, handling life and seems “okay”. The truth is that person has mastered putting on the face of happy deception. In reality, I spend my nights tossing and turning. Crying and screaming into my pillow. I spend my days with headaches and pure exhaustion. On the days that are good for me, there are the moments that fleet across my mind and will have me crying hysterically for a brief second. But that second is enough to leave me just ready for the day to end so I can crawl into the bed with sleepless exhaustion.

I was spending my days taking care of children when I could barely take care of myself. It is hard to put on a smile and fix grill cheese for these innocent faces when you just want to be alone. It has not been fair to them or me. They are not getting the best me they deserve. How do you answer them when they ask why you are crying? Well little child, I am crying because I miss fixing my son peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Or how about I am crying because Richie used to play this game with you and it hurts me now to do it. Not fair at all for them to have this sad mess instead of the MumMum that used to dance with them and sing at the top of my lungs over the littlest things. Not fair at all.

So what do I do when the last child leaves each day. I immediately go into shut down mode. I do not want to deal with life. I do not want to do anything. I want to go to bed at 5:30 and sulk in my own world. This is not fair to my husband or two children living at home with us. Well, Luke and Savannah are grown you may say. They can take care of themselves.Jeff can get his own supper and let you rest you say. Yes, they can and yes at times they do. But is this fair to them. They did not sign up for this grief ride either. I am the Mom. I am to take care of them no matter their age and I am to be the Mom. They do not deserve a Mom that shuts down from life every evening and does not share in their life fully. I should be making meals for us to eat around our table and hearing about their day. Instead they have been getting a Mom that is quick tempered, stressed, red eyed, frazzled and just a teary mess. My husband does not deserve to come home to a wife that tells him she has had a bad day and is going to bed the minute he walks in the door. How many moments have I missed with them that I can’t get back? Have I gone on too long like this that they no longer desire to be around me?

Then there is this….. Jeff and I have no more children we are responsible for. They have been raised, graduated and are off making there way in the world. What do we do now? We have always taken care of them and put them first always. I can’t count how many date nights were spent with a car load of kids and their friends because we didn’t want to leave them. Now what do we do? Are we even still close enough as husband and wife to be us? What if we don’t even like each other? How do we be us with just us? This scares me more than anything. How do we handle being married with just us? We are having to learn each other all over again.

Now the biggest one…. How do I take care of me? I have always taken care of others. My kids, their friends, my husband(s), others people’s kids, my family, my friends and even the daggum hamster! Now how do I take care of me? I have decided to start counseling to work through some of the things that are haunting me.Things that have haunted me since childhood. I have decided to rest. That is the hardest adjustment so far. I cannot sit still from thinking I have to do something. I am going to write, read, cross-stitch, volunteer at church and just take a walk. If I want to stay up all night crying, I will. If I want to scream at 12:34 in the afternoon because I want my son back, I will. If I want to go have lunch with my handsome son Luke, I will. If I want to go rambling with Savannah, I will. If I want to surprise Jeff with a picnic lunch in his office, I will. (I have always wanted to do that) I will do what makes me happy. I will take care of myself. I will for once let the grief out instead of holding it in until everyone else is taken care of. For once in my life, I will be under construction to be a better me for me. Not for others. Please pray for me. Aside from burying my son, this is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.



I have sat here now for over 30 minutes. I have started and deleted two blogs. Nothing I have to say seems to really matter right now. I want to be able to get on here and write something smart and helpful to some other parent in my shoes. But really, I have nothing to say. My heart is getting heavy and my mind is beginning to race to much. Holidays are approaching. the dread is building. With the dread comes guilt for my two living children. How will I get through this first holiday without Richie? How will I feel when the big one year mark comes just a few days after Christmas? What is my family going to say when I show up to none of our usual events this year? How am I going to smile when I watch my kids open their gifts? How am I going to smile when we have our annual gingerbread building contest? How? How do I get through the coming months? I don’t know how to feel, what to say or where to turn next in grief. I am approaching dread at 178mph and it looks like I am going to crash…….


It’s about to get raw!

For over 6 months now I have been blogging about how my son’s death has affected me and my family. The feelings and emotions of being a broken mother. On the night of his first birthday in heaven, I realized I may have been broken long before his death. Yesterday after aggressively cleaning my cousin’s tile shower for almost 2 hours, I realized I have been long broken even before I became a mother. I had told my sisters a week or so ago that I was wanting to write about some things from the past but was unsure if I should. They said do it. So, after all the wounds from the past and present that I thought had healed or had been hidden carefully have came back throbbing………. I will now posting the raw truth and hurts. Also the the hurts since Richie’s death that I haven’t said anything about because of how others would feel. I may lose some friends and family, but they will be out. Sometimes I get tongue tied trying to say things, which is why I don’t go see a therapist. I have discovered that the best therapy for me is through my fingers in writing. No one interrupts me, no one tells me how I should deal with them and no one looks at me like I am totally screwed up. I don’t need someone to tell me what I should feel and how to get there. My feelings are my feelings and they are precious to me. Whether they are good, bad or ugly, they are mine and mine alone.

So get ready, its about to get real on this here blog. Consider this your warning. But not today, I have to go help my cousin again. And family comes first. Maybe tonight…………