Monday, March 10, 2008

Ohai, I can haz sleep now? lulz

First off, thank you very much Heather(anonymous) for your words. The person in question was not my father, but someone still closer to me, whom I adore with all my heart and whose pain is my pain. I find it comforting to know that so many still wish to read the words that I write. This (along with my paper journal) is my outlet and I do, sometimes, find myself hiding from myself. I guess, wanting to present a healthier, processing this all fine-thank you, kind of me. A lot of times it's a bit farcical. Those are the days I immerse myself in reading the blogs of others (read: all of you) and forgetting about things for awhile.

Nicole was okay with me not going. My children realize (on some level) what a truly magical (yes this sounds flighty and Danielle Steele-ish, but it's the truth so I can't help it) family life we had...before. They realize and work with me on trying to forge ahead to something new. If not what we want, at least palatable to us all. This is tough at times. There are days where James would give everything to just work on something in the garage, with his dad. Last week I stood at the window, crying, as I watched my son hammer together a bench all on his own. I superimposed the image of his father, on the ground next to him, over the image. There were so many times I could pick that image from. They spent so much time putzing out there together. I have pictures of my baby boy with a shovel 2 times his height, out in the snow with daddy. My favorite picture is of my 1 1/2 year old sweeping the driveway, while his daddy and his grandpa (both now gone) talked above him. Too many images that leave too big a hurt on some days.

I have images, really all too recent images of Nicole and her dad...hunched over the engine block of the Intrepid. He, wanting to give her all the knowledge she needed as a new driver. She, eager to please her dad and cleaning up the car...down to the detailing. He was so proud to give that car to her and to see her drive off for the very first time. I know that hurts her every single time she gets behind the wheel. Sometimes in small ways. Sometimes... again in ways that hurt too much.

It is hard to explain...this love we shared. I miss the man who finished my sentences or knew when to leave me be on a very bad day. I miss the man who gave me my life back...who made my daughter ours...who soothed his new son in his first moments on earth...who cried and begged me not to leave him on the way to the hospital that one scary night...who worked 6, sometimes 7, days for us...never complaining...even though I knew how weary he was. I only ever wanted him to be happy. And he was. And we were. And so were our children. So when I say he was the biggest thing in my life I guess I mean he was the biggest thing in all of our lives. Without him, we are not we anymore. We're attempting to find a self, a family, without him. And that wasn't in the blueprint.

Oh. About the title? I couldn't really think of one and am running on a lack of sleep of late so...well...there it is.


rachd said...

Wonderful, if somewhat painful memories, Laura.

There are times when I'm afraid of peeling back any more layers, of digging any deeper because the pain of NOW hurts so much I worry how much more it would hurt if I did go deeper. (And that was one convoluted sentence, I hope you understand what I'm trying to say.) So, I understand what you're writing.

Try and get some sleep, Friend.

Many HUGS!

Rebecca said...

I don’t know what to say, so I’ll just say I’m here.


Stella said...

Dear Laura,

(((Hugs)))... just (((hugs.)))

I hear what you are saying. The missing link from the past to the future. The future we already had all planned out. I feel split in two sometimes, living my real life and simultaneously mentally living the life Andy and I had planned. A parallel universe of sorts.

I'm thinking of you.


Donna said...

I'm here to Sweetie, just listening!!hughugs

Kathy said...

Dear Laura,
My computer is cooperating with me today! I have been checking on you often. Not able to say hello often though. Next time I visit family in Michigan I am hoping that we can meet. And I hope that your winter ends soon.
Neither of my daughters wanted me there for their senior pictures. In fact, I think I am remembering that they didn't want me with them for much at all that senior year!
Thank you for visiting, and for the comments. Your words here are so special. Know we care about you. The reminder that such strong love results in such heavy loss, helps me to recognize that each moment of this new chapter in my life is indeed a blessing. And I strive not to sweat the 'little stuff', if that makes any sense. Hold on to those knots Laura!

Nance said...

James is obviously trying as hard as you are. All of you are. It must be a source of great pride and strength to you.

Classic Charm said...

Sending you a big hug dear...and letting you know that I am praying for you and your beautiful family, you are truly an amazing person. Stay strong...

TGLB said...

Love the title--that's one of my favorite websites.

Hang in there, Laura. Sending you healing vibes full o' love.

Betts4 said...

Hoping you get some rest and I sure wish I had something profound to say. The things you miss are very important parts of everyday life. I am sorry they aren't part of yours anymore. I understand and it so happens here also.

Sending Hugs!

Debbie in NC said...

My blueprint has gotten all screwed up. I used to be a Wife for 20 years and now I'm not...divorced. I used to be a Daughter but no parents left. I'm still a Sister. I used to be a Parent, but now just a Mom and friend to my son.

It's just the two of us living here and he's planning on leaving and joining the Air Force. I do not have a friggin clue as to what this 53 year old "no role in life" woman is supposed to do now. I didn't plan for it to be this way, but it is what it is.

I think I could deal with it better if my son was just nearby and I could share in his life and watch him and hopefully soon have a "Grandma" role? But, I have no control over this no matter how much I want to.

I'll keep you in my prayers Laura, as always.

Kathy said...

Good morning Laura,
Thinking about you and your children, just checking in......
Hugs! Kathy

Karen said...

Hi Laura, just checking in. I hope all is okay and you are getting the rest you need.

Emblita said...

Such beautiful memories you have- its heartrending that you can't make more that include that wonderful husband of yours.
Sending you a huge hug!

J at said...

Reading this post reminds me of my mom...her father died suddenly when she was only 6, leaving a 25 year old widow behind with two kids, trying to keep it all together in the mid 1940s. The day to day keeping them fed and so on, she managed, though barely, and she lost the kids for a little while. (My mom in a convent, my uncle in a foster home, until she remarried and was able to bring them home...) But the happy ease with which they laughed and went through life, that was lost. She lost a baby (he was 6 months old when he died) and a husband within a very short period of time, and it took the wind out of her sails, the spring from her step, and she became much more guarded and careful about life. Of course, to me, she has always been this way, since it was long before I was born. But my mom can remember, a little bit, the carefree, laughing life they had before. Even if they were broker than broke, living out of a trailer that they towed from one construction site to another around Northern California, so my grandfather could work.

Sorry for the novel. I don't know where my Grandma found her strength. She has now lost two children, and two husbands, and while cautious and perhaps a little bitter, she is still a loving person, and is willing to find the humor in any situation possible.

Ronni said...

I'm afraid to look inside. I manage to convince myself I'm coping. I have to stick with that for now. Do what you have to do!