why is it that when we lose one person we are then haunted by the sadness of losing others? isn't it enough to have to face the grief right in front of you without having to also revisit the loss of another?
i am packing to go be with my family...mixed emotions for sure - a little anxious to face the reality of what has happened coupled with the sheer need to be with them, with the only others who knew him and are feeling much as i am right now. the family viewing is at 4pm today. i am dreading it. i would rather not see him, not stand over him in that way...would rather keep my last image of him safely in front of all the others. it was three weeks ago now...we had gone up for our annual pig roast and at the end of a very good day, i knelt next to him in his chair and took his hand and just talked to him...nothing significant, just words...i knew he wasn't well, but didn't want to think that they could be the last ones we would share. but, that moment, brief as it was, will always be mine.
there is something about losing a grandparent...it's like a piece of your childhood is gone somehow. so much of my life is tied to them, they loved me unconditionally - only ever wanting me to just be there (something i never did enough of)....and now, they're gone. first pop-pop, then gran and now grandpa. yes, it's part of life. yes, we were blessed to have so much time with him. yes, he went peacefully. i know all these things yet right now i'm just....sad. and it's not just for him...it's for the others too. mostly gran because losing her was so very difficult for me and i miss her terribly still.
what i'm finding is that this week is like the emotional trainwreck of faith...i know, that sounds silly, but it's true. everything i've been holding in, everything that has hurt, everything i wish was different or more or whatever seems to have risen to the top with this one event and i feel...lost...a bit overwhelmed...terribly alone...and often like i can't breathe because of all the built-up emotion that is trying to somehow escape me. so, i apologize now to anyone who must see my totally irrational side...but, with the death of a loved one we are faced with the realities, the shortcomings, the disappointments in our own lives and as much as i've tried to ignore some of them; they are proving to be hard to hide from now. i have yet again been reminded of the fragility of life...of the importance of surrounding myself with only those who deserve to be there and to take time to enjoy the life i have with these people.
my heart hurts. my body physically aches. i've had a headache for two days straight and my shoulders and neck may never relax. but, i know that's just part of it. tomorrow we will celebrate his life and then i will come home and maybe finally fill the tub as full as i can and just lay in the warm water letting all of this wash away. until then, my mind keeps showing me pictures...a little photo album of sorts...of him, of her...and those little memories make me smile if only for a second. i carry pieces of them within me, of that i'm certain. characteristics undeniably them that i wouldn't change for anything.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
10.24.2012...
i lost my grandpa last night. i have no complete thoughts, only rambling, somewhat distracted ones that seem to come and go. kind of like my sleep last night, oddly enough. my heart is heavy...my head is fuzzy. perhaps it's easier to just put the basics for now...
John Calvin Olds
AUGUST 16, 1928 - OCTOBER 23, 2012
John Calvin Olds, 84, Ridgeway, passed away on Tuesday, October 23, 2012 at his home.
He was born August 16, 1928 in Florence, Kansas, the son of Clifford and Mary(Smith) Olds.
On December 16, 1950, he married Dorothy Beck in Liberty, MO. She survives of the home.
He owned and operated his own trucking service.
Survivors in addition to his wife are daughters, Ruth Canaday, Ridgeway, MO, Susie (John) Rollheiser, Ridgeway, MO, and Deborah Olds, Omaha, NB; brother, Paul Olds, Eustis, FL; sister-in-law, Shirley Olds, Kansas City, MO; 5 grandchildren, 4 great grandchildren.
He was preceded in death by his parents and 2 brothers, Ralph and Gene.
Funeral Services will be 11:00 a.m. Saturday, October 27, at the Roberson Funeral Home, Bethany, MO. Cremation following the service will be provided by Roberson Funeral Home with inurnment at a later date. The family will receive friends from 10:00 - 11:00 a.m. Saturday at the funeral home where friends may call after 8:00 a.m. Saturday.
Memorial contributions may be made to Harrison County Food Pantry in care of Roberson Funeral Home, P.O. Box 46, Bethany, MO.John Calvin Olds
He was born August 16, 1928 in Florence, Kansas, the son of Clifford and Mary(Smith) Olds.
On December 16, 1950, he married Dorothy Beck in Liberty, MO. She survives of the home.
He owned and operated his own trucking service.
Survivors in addition to his wife are daughters, Ruth Canaday, Ridgeway, MO, Susie (John) Rollheiser, Ridgeway, MO, and Deborah Olds, Omaha, NB; brother, Paul Olds, Eustis, FL; sister-in-law, Shirley Olds, Kansas City, MO; 5 grandchildren, 4 great grandchildren.
He was preceded in death by his parents and 2 brothers, Ralph and Gene.
Funeral Services will be 11:00 a.m. Saturday, October 27, at the Roberson Funeral Home, Bethany, MO. Cremation following the service will be provided by Roberson Funeral Home with inurnment at a later date. The family will receive friends from 10:00 - 11:00 a.m. Saturday at the funeral home where friends may call after 8:00 a.m. Saturday.
Memorial contributions may be made to Harrison County Food Pantry in care of Roberson Funeral Home, P.O. Box 46, Bethany, MO.John Calvin Olds
AUGUST 16, 1928 - OCTOBER 23, 2012
John Calvin Olds, 84, Ridgeway, passed away on Tuesday, October 23, 2012 at his home.
He was born August 16, 1928 in Florence, Kansas, the son of Clifford and Mary(Smith) Olds.
On December 16, 1950, he married Dorothy Beck in Liberty, MO. She survives of the home.
He owned and operated his own trucking service.
Survivors in addition to his wife are daughters, Ruth Canaday, Ridgeway, MO, Susie (John) Rollheiser, Ridgeway, MO, and Deborah Olds, Omaha, NB; brother, Paul Olds, Eustis, FL; sister-in-law, Shirley Olds, Kansas City, MO; 5 grandchildren, 4 great grandchildren.
He was preceded in death by his parents and 2 brothers, Ralph and Gene.
Funeral Services will be 11:00 a.m. Saturday, October 27, at the Roberson Funeral Home, Bethany, MO. Cremation following the service will be provided by Roberson Funeral Home with inurnment at a later date. The family will receive friends from 10:00 - 11:00 a.m. Saturday at the funeral home where friends may call after 8:00 a.m. Saturday.
Memorial contributions may be made to Harrison County Food Pantry in care of Roberson Funeral Home, P.O. Box 46, Bethany, MO.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
10.21.2012...
there is something magical about watching my child play in my childhood backyard, swing from the same monkeybars i learned to swing on, play in the leaves dropped from the same helicopter tree i sat under more times than i can count...
i walked around the side of dad's house saturday afternoon hand-in-hand with her...we noted what was different about the yard, the house, from when i was her age and i told her stories about playing in various places throughout that very yard and the one next door. then, i watched her climb up the same ladder i have climbed countless times and reach easily for the first rung of the metal monkeybars i remember climbing on over and over again...sitting on top with friends, sharing stories and hanging upside down until the blood rushed to our heads and we had to turn right side up. what i also remembered when i watched her there was the excitement i felt when mom and dad pulled into the backyard with the little silver pick up and unpacked what would become a childhood staple...a swingset that transformed into many things - a house, a fort, a castle, an escape route when being chased and a place of secrets and refuge for us and our friends. that swingset survived our fire, sitting idle with no use for years...waiting for the time when children - our children - would find their way to its now skeletal frame. all that is left is a rusty ladder, the eight or so rungs across and the empty frame that used to hold two swings, a set of rings and a trapeze bar - all designed to keep us busy and teach us how to fearlessly soar...both were accomplished successfully.
tonight, in our old neighborhood with friends we've had her entire life, i sat in another backyard and watched her and a small troupe of actors perform a two act skit for an eager audience of parents in lawnchairs. i was split...watching her and her friends proudly show off, thinking she's growing up way too quickly...and thinking back to a time when it was me, my sisters and the neighbor boy putting on skits of our own each 4th of july for the neighborhood picnic. i was happy she was able to have this experience...sad that because we don't live in a neighborhood she can't be a part of it more often...and longing for a day when we can once again share in this very simple, yet to me, fundamental part of life.
there is something to be said for "belonging". it doesn't really matter where or to what. it's just the idea of feeling a part of something. with it comes pros and cons...you know, the neighbor who means well when trying to set you up with a "high strung, yet perfect for you" guy...remind me again why when asked "are you seeing anyone right now?" i don't automatically respond with "yes"??? you'd think i'd learn. i digress. but, i love sitting in a driveway with friends while the kids run around learning the simple joys of life in ways you can't on an ipod or xbox. i love knowing that if you need them, there are people around, whether it's to help shovel your drive or watch the kids in a pinch...you know, the little ways we take care of each other, or as i call it, the "it takes a village" theory. maybe it's the small-town girl in me...maybe it's because i currently reside in an apartment and while it's home in many ways, i can't help but miss being in a house on a street with a mailbox, a trash day and sometimes nosy yet typically well-meaning neighbors. i think, what i'm dancing around, what i'm trying hard not to say...is that, to me...that life, that world, also represents a normal family and that may be where the twinge of sadness came from tonight. see...my friend, cathy and i were the only people there needing one seat...the other three families required two seats. i was happy she was, and has been on many occasions, my "plus one" tonight (as silly as that sounds for this type of event, but you get the idea)...there is a simplicity that comes with this little life of mine...yet, i can't help but miss the idea of someone next to me who's hand would fit around mine and i know she feels similarly.
but, as i walked charlie when we got home, i was filled with so much more than that. while there are things in my life that aren't perfect, there are so many more things to be thankful for and cherish. i. am. blessed. three little words that i felt over and over again this weekend as i held my little girl...as i watched her play...as i sat next to her in church, singing and praying with her hand in mine. i. am. blessed.
i walked around the side of dad's house saturday afternoon hand-in-hand with her...we noted what was different about the yard, the house, from when i was her age and i told her stories about playing in various places throughout that very yard and the one next door. then, i watched her climb up the same ladder i have climbed countless times and reach easily for the first rung of the metal monkeybars i remember climbing on over and over again...sitting on top with friends, sharing stories and hanging upside down until the blood rushed to our heads and we had to turn right side up. what i also remembered when i watched her there was the excitement i felt when mom and dad pulled into the backyard with the little silver pick up and unpacked what would become a childhood staple...a swingset that transformed into many things - a house, a fort, a castle, an escape route when being chased and a place of secrets and refuge for us and our friends. that swingset survived our fire, sitting idle with no use for years...waiting for the time when children - our children - would find their way to its now skeletal frame. all that is left is a rusty ladder, the eight or so rungs across and the empty frame that used to hold two swings, a set of rings and a trapeze bar - all designed to keep us busy and teach us how to fearlessly soar...both were accomplished successfully.
tonight, in our old neighborhood with friends we've had her entire life, i sat in another backyard and watched her and a small troupe of actors perform a two act skit for an eager audience of parents in lawnchairs. i was split...watching her and her friends proudly show off, thinking she's growing up way too quickly...and thinking back to a time when it was me, my sisters and the neighbor boy putting on skits of our own each 4th of july for the neighborhood picnic. i was happy she was able to have this experience...sad that because we don't live in a neighborhood she can't be a part of it more often...and longing for a day when we can once again share in this very simple, yet to me, fundamental part of life.
there is something to be said for "belonging". it doesn't really matter where or to what. it's just the idea of feeling a part of something. with it comes pros and cons...you know, the neighbor who means well when trying to set you up with a "high strung, yet perfect for you" guy...remind me again why when asked "are you seeing anyone right now?" i don't automatically respond with "yes"??? you'd think i'd learn. i digress. but, i love sitting in a driveway with friends while the kids run around learning the simple joys of life in ways you can't on an ipod or xbox. i love knowing that if you need them, there are people around, whether it's to help shovel your drive or watch the kids in a pinch...you know, the little ways we take care of each other, or as i call it, the "it takes a village" theory. maybe it's the small-town girl in me...maybe it's because i currently reside in an apartment and while it's home in many ways, i can't help but miss being in a house on a street with a mailbox, a trash day and sometimes nosy yet typically well-meaning neighbors. i think, what i'm dancing around, what i'm trying hard not to say...is that, to me...that life, that world, also represents a normal family and that may be where the twinge of sadness came from tonight. see...my friend, cathy and i were the only people there needing one seat...the other three families required two seats. i was happy she was, and has been on many occasions, my "plus one" tonight (as silly as that sounds for this type of event, but you get the idea)...there is a simplicity that comes with this little life of mine...yet, i can't help but miss the idea of someone next to me who's hand would fit around mine and i know she feels similarly.
but, as i walked charlie when we got home, i was filled with so much more than that. while there are things in my life that aren't perfect, there are so many more things to be thankful for and cherish. i. am. blessed. three little words that i felt over and over again this weekend as i held my little girl...as i watched her play...as i sat next to her in church, singing and praying with her hand in mine. i. am. blessed.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
10.16.2012...
piglet sidled up to pooh from behind. "pooh?" he whispered.
"yes, piglet?"
"nothing," said piglet, taking pooh's hand. "i just wanted to be sure of you."
-A.A. Milne
sometimes i feel like that. i need to be sure...of someone, of a reassurance that exists only within the presence of certain people. kind of like how m still occasionally needs to just know i'm "there"...it's not necessarily a physical space, but more of a conscious state that somehow connects two people when they most need it.
how do you step back from someone? especially someone who is that reassuring person for you...how do you somehow remove yourself from the situation so they can find what they need, figure out where they are and what they want...and, scariest of all...trust that they may, in the end, find their way back to you in a way you've never shared before yet knowing that there's a very good chance they won't? i'm wrestling with my selfish, human tendencies tonight...trying very hard to not let my emotions get the best of me. i've given everything i can, tried being everything i thought mattered...and, ultimately, i have to let go. it's so very hard for me to do that.
there's about a million more things i could say about this, but it's too personal. i'm afraid i've already said, written, too much and sometimes feel like by putting these words (and those of the last couple posts) out there, i've exposed my soul and it makes me feel very vulnerable. but, the larger part of me believes in sharing how you feel so in order to be honest, i feel like that's what i have to do...share that vulnerable, exposed, in many ways, raw side of me with people who have no real need to even know this piece of me.
what i realized is this...a couple days ago i spent a few hours feeling like i belonged to someone again...something i haven't felt in what seems like forever. i know it was just the way i felt, it wasn't real...but, for a brief moment, i felt like someone had chosen me...and, no not just someone...but, someone who means the world to me. the truth is, it doesn't matter what i feel, what i've felt, what i want or how i wish it was. i've allowed myself to be in a situation below me in order to hang onto someone who isn't ready to be hung onto. i've seen it. i know it. i just haven't wanted to accept it for fear that the moments that which made it all worthwhile would never be again.
so, here i am...letting go. stepping back. and just letting it be.
"yes, piglet?"
"nothing," said piglet, taking pooh's hand. "i just wanted to be sure of you."
-A.A. Milne
sometimes i feel like that. i need to be sure...of someone, of a reassurance that exists only within the presence of certain people. kind of like how m still occasionally needs to just know i'm "there"...it's not necessarily a physical space, but more of a conscious state that somehow connects two people when they most need it.
how do you step back from someone? especially someone who is that reassuring person for you...how do you somehow remove yourself from the situation so they can find what they need, figure out where they are and what they want...and, scariest of all...trust that they may, in the end, find their way back to you in a way you've never shared before yet knowing that there's a very good chance they won't? i'm wrestling with my selfish, human tendencies tonight...trying very hard to not let my emotions get the best of me. i've given everything i can, tried being everything i thought mattered...and, ultimately, i have to let go. it's so very hard for me to do that.
there's about a million more things i could say about this, but it's too personal. i'm afraid i've already said, written, too much and sometimes feel like by putting these words (and those of the last couple posts) out there, i've exposed my soul and it makes me feel very vulnerable. but, the larger part of me believes in sharing how you feel so in order to be honest, i feel like that's what i have to do...share that vulnerable, exposed, in many ways, raw side of me with people who have no real need to even know this piece of me.
what i realized is this...a couple days ago i spent a few hours feeling like i belonged to someone again...something i haven't felt in what seems like forever. i know it was just the way i felt, it wasn't real...but, for a brief moment, i felt like someone had chosen me...and, no not just someone...but, someone who means the world to me. the truth is, it doesn't matter what i feel, what i've felt, what i want or how i wish it was. i've allowed myself to be in a situation below me in order to hang onto someone who isn't ready to be hung onto. i've seen it. i know it. i just haven't wanted to accept it for fear that the moments that which made it all worthwhile would never be again.
so, here i am...letting go. stepping back. and just letting it be.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
disappointment...
she handed me her evaluation sheet, and with eager anticipation asked "did i pass, mommy?" sadly, what i saw was the blaring class recommendation that said "FS3"...so, no, no she didn't pass. as i explained to her what the scoring meant, gently told her that she would be retaking level 3 again, i watched her little face crumble...we were still at the rink so she had an audience...she tried desperately to hold it all in, to keep it all together; and simply said "i want to leave. i don't want to skate anymore tonight." she held the tears at bay til we were safely in the car and then - like i tend to do when i'm overwhelmed - let it all go.
the circumstances don't matter. disappointment is all the same in the end. what you wanted to happen, didn't. that's it, plain and simple. i have found that some of my most painful moments, those i've since discovered were masked as sadness...were really disappointment in disguise. life isn't fair. one of the earliest things i can remember my mom saying. "when life gives you lemons, you have to make lemonade"...a true, but harsh, analogy. i remember her saying that the night our house burned...i was sitting on her lap, exhausted from emotion, trying desperately to make sense of why it had happened (i was in sixth grade at the time and was feeling everything from sad to angry, to a bit lost, to thankful, to overwhelmed and even a little scared)...that was the first time she told me the lemon story. my response? "yeah, but i can't seem to find the sugar"...a little funny, but so very honest given the circumstances. i've found myself thinking of those very words many times over the years...faced with difficult situations that in all honesty i don't want to face. sometimes "making lemonade" just seems too hard...sometimes you just wanna drink the damn lemonade (with a little vodka!!!) and forget about it all.
sometimes i find myself wondering how i can protect myself from disappointment...but, then i realize, that means sheltering myself from...life. what i have found is...people will disappoint us most of all. not always on purpose, but often because they see no other choice when trying to find their own happiness. we, as humans, no matter how self-less, no matter how giving...are still selfish when it comes down to it. we try hard to do the right thing, to look out for others, to do everything possible to keep from hurting someone else...but, when faced with our own reality...especially in tough situations, we will ultimately choose our own happiness. i can speak openly about this subject, as i've done it myself. i am far from innocent where this is concerned, and while i'm not proud of it in the least, i do own up to it. and, if you're totally honest with yourself, you will likely see you've done the same.
so, how do we minimize the disappointments, or maybe even the effects of them? i don't know. sometimes i am thankful for the arm that holds me just far enough away...thinking that because of that distance, i am not getting close enough to really let myself get hurt....that if i don't fight it, that arm is right where i need it to be, keeping me safe from falling too far. but, then i blink and i realize that no, i don't want that...i want to fall completely, and to be fallen for completely...to have no distance, nothing protecting me from us and our demons...to let him be my safety net. i think what i find myself not being completely honest about, is just that...it's an interesting balancing act and i'm never 100% certain of where either of us stands but i know that in some very unique way we do balance each other out when it really comes down to it. and, ironically, we are each terrified of disappointing the other. ah, to feel safe enough to finally let that fear go...to know that the other would still be there even if we disappointed them...that no matter what, they are always there to come home to. i think that's what we are all searching for...
life is hard...we will fall, and we will somehow pick ourselves back up. what i'm finding is that it's so important to find those people who will be right there next to you with a little hand when you need it. that there is nothing so important as the people we surround ourselves with - yes, the human, often selfish, certain to disappoint us people. what's that saying? "don't make someone a priority who only makes you an option"? right. that one. i never want to be anyone's "option"...only their "priority"...
Thursday, October 4, 2012
10.4.2012...
time. we get so little of it. it moves slowly when we are in a hurry, and seems to fly by when all we want is a little more. it's a cruel irony, yet we can't fight it. every moment we get is one less we will have. i'm not sure we ever fully take advantage of this until we are, sadly, faced with the reality there is little to no time left. we pray to stop the clock, or at least slow it down...wishing we could turn it back even a few moments but never is that an option.
this morning a dear friend will bury his father just two months after losing his mother. a couple days ago another close friend walked away from what appeared to be a devastating accident. monday morning i walked into the hospital and met two clearly lost and confused women who were looking for one of the oncologists...and my heart broke for them.
life is short. it is over in the blink of an eye. both cliches, but full of truth. i see this more and more the older m gets. we get one chance with each moment. if we screw it up we can't really take it back. if we waste it, we don't get a do-over. if we sit back and watch it pass us by, we can't complain about the outcome.
i am a firm believer in not wasting time when it comes to telling others how you feel...mostly because we never know how long we have with them, how many opportunities we might have to do so. we don't get to go back. people will disappoint us. we will get hurt more times than seems necessary, but hopefully we will be loved enough to make up for all of that in the end.
there are so many things i hope to someday get to tell you. words i hold back because i know the time is not right...they reside in my heart, taking up space in my mind...making my chest tight with anticipation, wearing on my body with the exhaustion that comes with holding back. they are only words. would mean little to most, yet to the intended, could be everything. to you they would come as no surprise, yet i feel the need to actually say them. i never want you to wonder where you stand. never want you to question what you mean to me. if ever you're faced with something that seems too hard to handle, i want you to know these things and hopefully find comfort in knowing you are completely loved, and never alone. in you i see my best self. the truest, most honest side of me. i find comfort in knowing that while i may never have everything i want, i have had many moments where i felt everything i needed. i know your hand like i know my own. i can look in your eyes and feel time stop. yet, i get anxious when i'm afraid there won't be enough...enough to share everything with you, to show you everything i want you to see, to help you see all the good within you and around you. i'm far from perfect in every aspect of my life, but i hope that in the end you will feel that i loved you perfectly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)