good-bye (for now)

I don't know where to start. 

I opened my laptop, I've been meaning to write for a minute, but just haven't been able to make the words make sense in my head. 

I opened blogger, ready to try and process my thoughts and feelings to get slapped in the face with a blog I never finished from Sept. 6.  I don't think it will ever be published, I also know it will never be deleted. 

It was a morning so much like today.  The crickets were chirping, Hubs and Neeko had just left to get donuts.  We'd decided that sounded good that morning and Neeks was bound and determined he was going for a ride.  He hadn't been into riding much lately.  Getting in and out of the car had become a struggle and I don't think he was enjoying it as much. 

Fast forward to nine days later. I'm sitting out here on the deck, the crickets are chirping even louder than ever, the air is crisp and I am surrounded by the warm glow of lights on the deck.  It's a pretty bland morning in the heavens, the stars are dim and I didn't notice the moon at all.  Unlike that morning which had been crisp and bright, full of starts with a bright moon overhead. 

On Sept 10, Hubs and I were trying to figure out how to help our daughter and family feel wrapped in love as the honored the 6th anniversary of our son-in-law passing.  Should we take over white roses? Offer to take them to dinner.  There really aren't words or actions that make such a day easier, but we were both thinking about it. 

We took our Neeko for a walk, it was slow and lingering.  I guess now I realize he was savoring it because it would be the last one. As Hubs grilled our boy his breakfast steak we joked a bit about what the neighbors must think smelling the grill so early each morning. As we sat outside sipping coffee and chatting it didn't occur to us that Neeko hadn't wandered out.  He was napping.  

Just as his breakfast cooled and I was calling him to come eat, our world shifted.  

We'd known for a long time that every minute with that precious boy was a pure gift from heaven. He'd lived so much longer than was normal for his breed mix.  A massive seizure lead us to an emergency vet, as we struggled to comprehend what we both knew. 

The vet was optimistic at first, told us take him home, maybe a few weeks, if we were lucky a few months.  We were so hopeful. We simply knew in our hearts our love would keep him with us. A few short hours and one very long seizure (over 10 minutes) and we knew that we had to love him enough to let him go. 

Being stupid COVID, only one of us was able to be by his side, holding him and loving him as he crossed the rainbow bridge and ran to his brother.  I so wanted to be selfish, I wanted to be the one there.  Again, I knew that wasn't going to happen, nor would it be right.  His daddy held him close and whispered to him that he was deeply loved as he left us. 

As we gathered the information for the sweet lady taking care of his cremation we realized our sweet baby had been part of our lives for just over 10 years.  And I can still recall the day he joined our family like yesterday.  From the jarring truck ride, to the dash down Locust street in sheer panic, to an evening spent with my girl trying to coax him inside for the night.  Ten cans of vienna sausages later we discovered all it took was a leash to get him to come right along.  We also discovered that if it included food, that sweet boy was never going to miss something thrown in his direction. 

He was the biggest baby his entire life.  Always wanting non-stop love, never trusting enough to accept it fully.  He'd had a bit of a rough start, I don't know that he ever quite got over it.  He loved to play and had a bigger toy box (which he sorted through on a regular basis) than most children.  His passion for playing and treats was simply unrivaled. 

I will never forget the email saying "there is a 3 year old brown haired, brown eyed baby boy needing a home"... or my response.... "I don't care if it is 2 legged or 4 legged... the answer is no".  How little I knew. 

I started this so long ago now it seems.  I never had the heart to finish it. 

He's home now, his ashes sit beside all the other fur babies.  We might actually take his toys down to the basement today.  We haven't really had the heart and well frankly, why does it matter. 

There will always be a hole in our hearts.  He was such a sweet and wonderful addition to our home and our lives.  Letting him go was so painful, we both know it was the right thing to do.  We are at peace and we know he is too.  

Sweet Neeko... you will always stay in our hearts until we meet again at that beautiful Rainbow Bridge. 

slow...

slow...

That single word has been stuck in my consciousness for almost a month now.  It pops up when I'm walking, meditating, awakening or simply sitting.  It has felt large and powerful.  It has demanded attention.  I have felt drawn to blog about it for weeks, but the rest of the words were not yet ready to be there.

When I write it is usually because something is drawing me to it.  Things feel like they have to escape my mind and become real.  I don't know a better way to describe it. It has only been in the past few days that the thoughts have started to come together.

Scary words are flying around pandemic, panic, coronavirus, COVID 19, self-quarantine, and even death.  I am still struggling a bit with it all.  Not from the reality of it existing.  I have no doubt about it.  There are new viruses coming into being all the time.  We live in a world that is full of other bacteria and germs.  I am struggling with what appears to me to be the greater virus.

Humanity.

At least where we are right now.

We are greedy, self-centered, our ego is greater than our compassion. At least that is how it appears.

It's been a crazy busy week.  I worked long days, over 12 hours a day, all but one day.  I even worked yesterday and will again today.  I will admit to being tired.  All of it was good stuff, but exhausting none the less.  The day I was going to call it quits early and actually buy some groceries for my seriously empty home, things started spiraling out of control and I ended up working even later.

In my personal bubble I was dealing with the impact of this virus and paying little attention to the insanity it was brewing. I am calling it a temporary insanity, because the fear is causing normally sane people to behave in manners that are mind numbing.

When I finally left work yesterday, after explaining to numerous people the reason we could not honor this or that was for their personal safety. Being yelled at and cussed out because I could not allow baby showers and group gatherings, I will admit to being very mentally exhausted.

I am a strong person.  I can take a great deal.  My default personality type is that of an extreme optimist... yet I can only absorb so much negativity and pessimism. By noon yesterday I was tapped out. All of the great conversations I had been having with peers and friends on how to make a great impact during this time of upheaval were squashed aside that's for sure.

Emotionally tapped out, starving (I hadn't been excited about the oatmeal sweet Hubs had made for breakfast as I was out of fruit and nuts to put in it - so I ate very little), and basically just weary of the fear that was invading our world... I was ready for a lunch date with Hubs.  A chance to unplug and process.

Lunch was incredible, I had so much fun simply chatting in the dim light enjoying each other's company.  Briefly glancing at my phone as I knew there was a conference call going on at that moment that could have implications.  I was ready to bounce back into work mode if need be. It was towards the end of lunch that Hubs got a call from work.

We work for the same place, just in different areas.  I take care of people directly, he takes care of the facilities and supplies. We'd been planning our grocery shopping for the week (no we did not need toilet paper) and various other items that were on our usual weekly to-do list. So we knew we'd be going out.  His call was a request to search for some items that were needed and in short supply.

I figured we could complete our weekly stuff at the same time.  I was woefully unprepared for what I witnessed at the stores we were shopping in. I was saddened. I watched people walking to their cars with carts full of toilet paper and paper towels (I can list several more sustainable ways... but no judgement), once inside the grocery stores and even Wal-Mart (yep still not my favorite place - but we were leaving no stone unturned) the shelves were bare.  I mean completely bare.

The hordes of locusts in the Bible could not have cleaned those shelves better.  I was in search of ingredients to make vegan corned veef, in whose world is vital wheat gluten something you should horde? If it was boxed or canned it did not exist.I couldn't buy a box of pasta... FYI, you can make that yourself... guess I will be. The crazed behavior was something you could feel.

We never found what Hubs was in search of.  Going to one of my favorite stores we found shelves over flowing with goodness, all the items on our list (although they removed the fresh oatmeal press and the guy working the bakery was awfully snarly that he had to slice my bread - they are the ones that removed the machine - not me), and it was calm.  I will continue to be willing to pay a bit more for that kind of sanctuary.  Sweet Hubs asked a lady if they had what he was looking for, they didn't.  But she immediately started to pray that we could find it and use it for comfort and protection.

Back to slow...

Through all the insanity of yesterday afternoon, which is really difficult for a highly sensitive person by the way, I still kept hearing the word slow. It was becoming a louder, more insistent SLOW.

There was no medication left on shelves, very few food items, and lets not talk about toilet paper. People were frantic.

There are only a few confirmed cases of COVID 19 in our entire area. Panic is ruling.

My heart, my meditations, and my very being are telling me not to worry.  They are telling me this is something that has been needed.  Not from a cleansing sense, I want no one ill or to die.  But from a reset sense.

So many times in recent years I have longed for the simplicity that has slowly slipped away.  The other morning I took Neeko for his morning walk.  I was cranky and not wanting to be bothered so I left my phone at home.  We walked for about 30 wondrous minutes. He's 15, I didn't rush him one bit.  We savored the beauty of the day, we listened to birds and he considered chasing a few.  During that entire walk the only thing that kept going through my thoughts was how wonderful it felt. A sense of loss for an entire generation or two that don't remember or know the beauty of silence.  Of walking along and listening to the birds on an early spring morning and genuinely hearing them.  The complete disconnection and oneness.

Is it possible that this virus slowing us down is giving us a chance to reset.  To not be so hurried and rushed.  Families are being forced to spend time together, not rushing to and from activities and events.  Schools across the river are closed, people are cancelling vacations and staying home.

I am worried about the financial impact, to all of us.  I worry about our seniors.  I worry that the hording mentality will cause someone to need that cold medicine to treat this virus and it won't be available.  I worry that we will continue to be trapped in our bubbles of self importance while others suffer. I worry that my sweet Hubs and mom - who are in the age bracket that is most vulnerable could get sick. I worry about my son, he's so far away.  I worry about my daughter and her kids.

I could give into the worry.  I am choosing not to. I woke up this morning, did my energy exercises and mediation.  The words were finally starting to gel so here I am.

Slow down.  The heavens have been sending the message for a while now.  It's okay to sit quietly, to not leave your home for rush about stuff for a day or two. It's okay to savor your coffee, go for long walks with loved ones in the sunshine, sit outside or read a book. It's okay to create something, learn a skill, or finish a project that has been tucked away in the business of rushing about. It's okay to enjoy the sunrises and the sunsets. It's okay to take a breath, to just be.

Instead of focusing on the insanity this is causing.  The panic and fear.  Maybe, just maybe, we slow.

We call friends and check on neighbors.  We share some of that horded toilet paper with that family that didn't get any.  Write some letters, send some emails, we are no longer an isolated society unless we refuse to reach out that helping hand.

My heart has so been lifted by the good.  The singing in Italy, my cousin in Germany sharing how they are supporting one another, restaurants offering free lunches to children that count on that daily school lunch to feed them (the delivery method might need work... but hey), the posts on Facebook and Nextdoor offering to go and get groceries (I now know those are brave souls) and supplies for neighbors that might be in the vulnerable groups.

I feel the universe is telling us that it is okay to slow down. It's not just okay, it is needed.  We are human beings, not human doings.  And there is not a shortage of anything, at least not a natural shortage.  Greed and fear are creating it.  Turn off your televisions for a while, the media has a place in this world and it is important to stay informed.  But when all you hear is panic and fear from every angle... well... then you start having people crocheting toilet paper...

My sweet Hubs just lit a fire for me.  So I am going to take a few minutes to savor my coffee, rest my weary soul and then it will be time to take our sweet old boy for a nice, long, SLOW walk.

As the age of Aquarius dawns, and we are drawn naturally do to more for others, please find the place in your heart to do so.  Check on others, be willing to do things.

My heart is saying slow down, re-evaluate things, look at what is truly needed and then proceed...

Slow...

Love and light to each of you...

accepting...

Struggling to sleep. 

I had forgotten this part of the mourning process.  It could be my subconscious is still programmed to wake and listen for his breathing in the middle of the night.  Not sure.  I'm at peace, I'm not tortured that he's gone.  I'm hurting.  I look at his spots and my heart tightens.  It's different than the ones I lost far too young.  Yet it hurts just the same.

I struggled all day yesterday to figure out what I wanted inscribed on his box.  Torn.  Too few words to express his lifetime of love and devotion.  I finally decided late last night.  Over 24 hours of loss had the clearing ability I needed.

As I was driving home from work last night the sky, the air, everything was this strange orange color.  We had a horrible storm roll in around 6 pm.  The sky went from pure beautiful blue with bright sunshine to a deep rolling black/gray color.  You could see it moving in.  For hours  lightning lit the deepness all around us.  When I left a little after 8 pm feeling beat up and incapable of anything, the sky started to lighten.  It as still raining, lightning was flashing all around, but the sky turned orange.  I felt like I was in some strange Hollywood sci fi as I drove home. 


My mind was processing the day, some news I had received, the loss of my sweet boy, worry over how Neeko was doing.  It was surreal. It was overwhelming. I felt like I had somehow become part of the sunset, not just simply watching it.

Maybe all of those things were the reason for the stolen sleep?

Of all our babies, Neeko is the most social.  Either of the other two would have gladly been an only child.  Not Neeks.  He is the eternal puppy at heart.  The house is littered with his toy collection, he is worse than a two year old.  He's bouncy and joyous.  And he thrives on attention and love. 

The journey to this home and now has taken us from a micro zoo... 2 cats, 2 dogs, a lizard and turtle to simply Neeko.  It feels weird to not think in plural terms.  Hubs just took Neeko for his morning walk.  I guess I could have gotten dressed and joined them.  But my heart isn't ready.  I don't want anyone to ask where Gator is.  People get weird when you refer to them passing, some people just don't understand that he is our baby.  Hubs and I never had two legged children together.  Our boys, are just that, our boys.

When I got home last night Neeks didn't greet me with a toy, as he usually does.  He wandered over, head down, eyes looking sad and lonely.  I could see what had worried Hubs all day.  I couldn't have it. I am not ready for him to mourn himself to the Rainbow Bridge, he will get there soon enough.  He will be 15 in November, unheard of for his breeds. 

I grabbed a stuffed bunny from his toy box and told him it was mine!  In typical two year old style the challenge was accepted.  We played for about 15 minutes.  Chasing each other around the main floor, playing with his toys, watching the joy return to his eyes.  He even climbed in bed with me at the end of the night.  Allowing me to comfort him.  He hadn't allowed that the night before. 

I don't know how many more sunrises and sunset we will share with our Neeko.  Our last boy, I hope there are many.  I'm not ready for any more loss right now.  I'm not ready for silence of that level. 

There are other things to occupy my mind, things that will need a lot of my attention.  But for this moment in time.  I am choosing to focus on bringing joy back to a silly old boy, I don't want him to experience any more loneliness than is necessary.

I'm processing the next steps, I'm processing the news I received yesterday.  There is some educating that needs to happen.  I need to learn more.  I need to figure out what all of it means.  For today and this moment, it can wait.

This morning Hubs and I washed off the rocks that have been rolling for most of the month.  Phase 3, pre-polishing has started.  Hubs has fallen in love with one of the most beautiful stones, and I need to start exploring how to create a ring for him with it. It is so very beautiful, the energy of that stone will be perfect for him.  A few more weeks until their true beauty shines through... When do I get to phase 3 for me?

Snug...

I want to sleep.  I haven't closed my eyes yet tonight. 

I should be worn out and sound asleep.

Until about an hour ago, I was sitting up with the last of our two black kitties.  She passed away a right around 3 this morning. 

We'd spent the day bouncing in and out, helping our girl at her house. Going to the home show, drooling over a few things and just basically enjoying the first truly beautiful spring day.

Snug has been slowing down.  I mean geez she would have been 17 next week.  The stairs were proving a bit more difficult and our little micro kitty was moving a bit slower, looking for her favorite spots in the sun. Yet even this morning she shared breakfast with Gator.

Over the years, we were betting that she would be the last one to cross the rainbow bridge.  Not the first.

Tonight when we got home I could hear her meow in the garage.  It was unusual, but I figured she was coming out of her food closet and Neeko or Gator got too close.  As I cleared the door she was lying against the closet, she had meowed to let Neek's know he needed to move away.  She was the queen of the castle until the very end, but she didn't look right.

She had a strange look in her eyes and her head was a bit wobbly.  Never did that beautiful black baby girl with the neon white whiskers ever look wobbly, she always looked regal. I often joked we should have named her Sheba.  Because she was every bit a queen.

By the time I had emptied my hands and turned around I watched her struggling to take just a few steps.  Something was very wrong.

I called my girl, let her know that something was up with Snug and I was afraid we were losing her. I could already feel my heart starting to break into tiny pieces. I'd scooped her up and was carrying her snuggled close to my chest, somehow hoping the body heat was going to change the thoughts rushing through my head.

A short while later my girl came over, bringing Hubs' phone.  He's developed a habit of leaving it at her house today. She looked at our Snuggy and the look in her eyes confirmed what I had already figured out.  She wasn't long for this world, she was going to be crossing the rainbow bridge very soon.

We called the boy.  He lives far away, but Snug is his baby.  I still remembering agreeing to let him get her all those years ago. She wasn't 2 weeks old when he had claimed her as his own. When our girl put him on speaker it was the most heartwarming and heartbreaking thing I'd ever seen.  With her limited strength she edged over and nudged the phone with her head.  I think she loved hearing his voice.  She worshiped her boy. 

We each have our favorite memories of that little dynamo.  I am not a cat person at all, yet she and her brother stole my heart.  We lost him almost 5 years ago.  Hubs will remember driving 2000 miles in a weekend for her, I remember her falling in the wall at my ex-mother-in-law's home when she was all of 7 weeks old, she liked to hide, she and I almost came to blows over that.  I will forever remember when I was so sick that sweet baby never left my side.  Sleeping curled on my head as I struggled to get well. I wonder if she thought it would heal me?  I will never know.  Mostly, I will always remember that she loved her boy.  Rushing to his arms whenever he was home.  He was always and forever her person. 

As I sat holding her tonight and gently petting her soft, soft fur.  A million memories rushed around me.  I was torn.  I was softly reassuring her that I knew it was her time to go and that we loved her and would miss her, and silently wished she could make it long enough to see her boy again.  I knew she couldn't.

I'm allergic to cats.  I strive to not hold them for long, as I will pay for it.  She needed me tonight.  I needed to be there for her this time. I can't believe how fast the hours ticked past.

It's Hubs birthday.  Not exactly a great way to start his special day.  I'm starting to dislike birthday's connected with him.  My Dad passed over on his Dad's birthday. As I look around the house, I am mentally ticking off the things I have to do.  I don't know if my heart will be ready today. 

I don't know that her toys will need to leave right away, but there is no sense at all in keeping a stinky litter box now. Just not tonight.

I think I will go and pet her soft, soft fur one more time. She will wait at the rainbow bridge, not for me, for her boy. I gave her as much comfort as I could, I hope she knew how much she was loved.

Run free at the Rainbow Bridge Snug... we love you and will miss you here...

pain...

There is a bright red male cardinal sitting outside my window, he's been bouncing all over the deck, looking in the window, checking out the still empty planters, sitting on the grill chirping at me. I know he's looking for the food that I haven't gone and bought.  We might have solved the squirrel situation, but the bright red house is still sitting empty.

He's pretty upset.

It's been a rough year folks.  A really rough year. 

My Dad has passed.  Things are currently a struggle at work - and I'm sure a lot of that has to do with where I am currently residing mentally.  I've allowed some not so great people into my life, I'm working on fixing that.  And on Monday I got the news that one of the dearest people I've ever known passed away.  It was unexpected, one of the B's and I had been questioning why we hadn't heard from her, but we've all been through a lot this year and simply didn't realize so much time had passed. That call shook us to our bones.

This Friday I will say good-bye to her.  I'm dreading it.  I am tired of the finality of it all. Next Saturday we will place some of Dad's ashes in his final resting spot.

I'm struggling really hard with so many things.  It feels like my world is spiraling out of control.  Remember being a kid on the merry-go-round?  Dad would say hold on tight and the push as hard as he could. Sometimes your legs would fly out in all directions, sure you were going to fly off into outer space?  Because as a kid you didn't realize that that truly couldn't launch you to the stars, but it sure felt like it.

That's how I feel now. 

I know that I'm not going to fly off the planet.  I know that my current world isn't strong enough to pull me to the other side.  But I have to admit, it sure feels it.

It's getting harder and harder to put a smile on my face.  To find my happy mask and make it through the day positive and upbeat.  My fibro is starting to flare for the first time in almost a year I am starting to feel the immense pain that signals the need for a break.

To step back.

I have some difficult things to get through over the next few days, and then it is time to take a break.  Not ideal timing, I have a golf tournament coming up.  But the reality is that there is never going to be an ideal time and my body and heart are telling me they've had enough for the moment.

I know the warning signs.  It's been 21 years in May. I also know the disastrous effects of not listening. I have ignored it and pushed through in the past only to have a long, torturous journey back to me.  I'm not interested in it.

Friday night I will rest.  I will focus on centering.  I will take long baths and leisurely walks with my dogs.  I will fill the bird feeder and plants flowers.  I might reconnect with people that I have been too "busy" to see.  I will do the things that feed my soul.  I will cry a few times.  I will laugh often.

I have a need to spend time with my loved ones.  To make memories and help each other heal from all the pain and damage we've suffered through.

I've stocked up on the things that make me feel whole.  I need to create when my world is like this.  It grounds me.  Hubs and I are already planning how to use some fairly empty space in our house to store all the soaps and bath bombs that I want to make so they can cure in peace and I still have room to do the laundry.

Well, it's time to find my mask and start the day.  As I look longingly at my new molds and visions of soap batter dances in my head.  I have tons of new versions that I am longing to try.  And the bath bombs... I do love a great bath and even more so with a bath bomb.  Dang you LUSH! 

Go find a cardinal and listen to it's song, it might be a loved one bringing you a message.  Hoping you will listen. Even if not, it will calm your inner turmoil.  Spend some time reconnecting in this disconnected world.  You definitely won't regret it.

fading...

All of my beautiful bittersweet flowers are starting to fade.  Each day I snap a picture of what remains, needing to hold on to beauty and memories just a bit longer.  

Two weeks ago today, my Momma sent us the last picture we will ever have of Daddy still with us.  We might still be in denial, but I think all of us looking at that picture knew that he was fading.  Just like my beautiful flowers are now. 

I don't know that I am getting stronger, I am finding moments each day when it takes sheer will power to face it.  Yesterday morning was horrific.  I didn't have the energy or passion for life to even get ready.  I didn't want to face anything else.  I couldn't. 

I did. 

 Through the strength loaned to me by family and friends, I found my groove.  I also admit to a lot of sheer bullheaded determination.  That trait runs deep in the family genes, thank you Lord. 

The box to send some of Daddy's ashes to Artful Ashes arrive in Arkansas yesterday (goodness talk about aliteration).  My sister will take it to the funeral home, I will fill out the paperwork and we will send it all back to get our globes and hearts made. They are so beautiful and seem such a fitting tribute to the man that gave so much for us.  Each of us picked a color of significance to us.  Mine will be brown, amber and gold.  It reminds me of his eyes.  

Today will find me going to work here shortly, I feel a bit more equiped to deal with the day for some reason.  I slept in, shutting down the alarm and resting until I had enough.  I don't often do that, but one of my "b's" is there at work to be me for a few.  I needed it.  Yesterday took all I had to give. 

I'm struggling with my fibro starting to react to the stress, so I know that I need to refocus a bit, shift gears. I'm needing to re-center, the problem is I don't really know how.  Each day feels a bit more of normalacy sneaking in.  It's only when I think about what has occurred that I feel the sharp pain. It's not even localized it spreads through out my entire being.  Those that have lost a loved one reassure me that this dims.  Part of me wants it to, part of me is scared that it will.  Will it be just like my fading flowers?  Will I only have pictures?  

Okay, well now I am making myself cry, so it's time to stop.  Theraputic writing should not make the pain worse... 

The donuts for my team are here (thank you Hubs) and it's time to head out.  

Take a moment to love those that are near and dear, put down your phone, have a conversation, cherish the memories, we all thought there were many more memories to be made... 

how...

I should be rushing about. 

I know that I am behind at work. I'm behind at home.  I'm just behind at life right now.

And I have zero energy or desire to be actively engaged. 

Everyone loses parents, loved ones, family and friends.

I have a million feelings fighting their way to the surface.  I always knew that I'd been blessed and never really had to deal with much loss. I've always had the dread of how I would deal with it when it finally snuck into my life.

I want to put on my big girl pants.  I want to actively be a grown up.  Today, I'm not feeling the grown up thing.  I'm feeling like a little girl that can't find a center point. I'm feeling lost.

I thought about sitting in my comfy chair while I took a few minutes to center myself.  To find my own middle ground, where I could balance where I am in my heart, with where I need to be in my world.  I couldn't do it.

I'm sitting at the island, surrounded by the overwhelming smell from the lilies.  I love that smell!  Staring out the window at random times.  Watching for a cardinal.

Today I am struggling with guilt.  I didn't find enough time over the past year to go and visit.  I was busy opening a Y.  I didn't coax him to talk on the phone as much as I wanted to, he didn't really like to talk on the phone, it was hard for him. I'm envious of the hours more that my sisters had with him.  Wishing that I could have had a few more.

All those silly meme's on Facebook that I look at, like and move on from.  Were they really trying to get my attention.  Telling me to pay attention more.  That family and friends are precious?  To take the time.  Ironically, one has shown up repeatedly in the past days from all different sources, it's saying to take care of yourself and your loved ones... they are what is important. 

Is all the noise in life stopping me from focusing?  My dear friend that teaches Yoga, suggested I try an exercise called "legs up the wall" as I am having trouble with my left leg again from lack of exercise, as she thought it would help.  I've been trying to do it twice a day.  Not only does it help my leg and back, it helps my heart.  Because I am taking that little 10 minute window to be still. To stop and allow life to balance out.  I'm listening to my breath and focusing on nothing.

Another person very dear to me took the time yesterday to listen to my swirling chaos.  To share with me that the blog I wrote about his mom when she passed is very important to him.  He rattled off the title without a moment's hesitation.  I went back and found it yesterday.  To see if I could find some peace in it.  I did.

Faith, Family and Friends....

Those are the very things I am holding on to now.  I have family and friends sharing different bible verses, calming techniques, shoulders to cry on and strength to borrow.  I am truly blessed in this life.

I was looking at all of the flowers in my kitchen yesterday, watering them, pulling wilted blossoms and basking in the scent.  I was feeling mournful.  They were reminding me of what I've lost. Yet, sweet Hubs put it all into perspective.  He held me tight, as we both took in the scent from the lilies and stared at the cross stitch I'd made for my Dad, and he said to not feel sad, those flowers and plants were sent to me by people that love me very much. 

Sitting here smelling those lilies this morning.  I do feel loved.  I think my Dad would be proud that I have been the kind of person that has people in their life to lift them up at times like these.

This is going to be a very long journey.  I don't know that I will ever recover from it.  But the pretty cardinal that just landed on my deck and looked in the glass door, is reassuring me that I will survive it.  I know that I will come out of it a bit different, my life lens is changed - permanently. And I pray that it will make me a better person.

all the kings horses...

... and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again.

At 4:55 am this morning I got the call. My Daddy was gaining his wings.  His poor heart tore again, there was nothing they could do.  It was time to let him fly free.

He fought hard. 

He's earned his rest.

The shock, pain and ripples of despair are washing over me, just like the brilliant sunrise. 

I had misunderstood the initial phone call.  More puzzled with each call or text.  I hadn't realized my Daddy was already gone, sitting and staring at my phone waiting for the call that let me know his battle was over.

Confusion overwhelmed me. 

My baby sister so calm and stoic. Asking if I was going down with her today.  Not understanding why she was hurrying to pack, to head down, when he would be gone before she got there.  Not realizing he was already gone. 

Puzzled.  Confused.  Struggling.

I've said good bye to few people in my life.  I have never witnessed the death of a loved one.  Only once have I stroked the cold hand of someone of importance in my life. 

I don't know how to process this.  I don't even know where to start. 

When the transfer on Friday fell through I had the worst feeling.  I've always believed that all things happen for a reason, to put us where we need to be.  As my rattled brain is sorting through things, I see God's hand in the problems on Friday.  They weren't problems or challenges.  It was keeping Daddy with the people that have taken such good care of him through to the end.

Hubs reminded me this morning as I was sobbing into his chest, that my Daddy knew I had been there, when he squeezed my hand so tight he was letting me know that he knew.  My sweet Hubs that was thinking of me, while dealing with losing his friend of over 30 years.

I keep hearing his Doctor saying Daddy's heart was big, not enlarged, just big.  My Dad was the meanest SOB on the outside.  He could hurt you so deeply, he was opinionated and distant.  But the Doc was right, all of that tough, hard, shell that the world saw, protected the most loving, biggest heart, and gentlest soul I'd ever known.

He loved deeply and freely.  Although he hid it from the world, no one was allowed to see the crack in his armor. 

My heart breaks that my youngest grand daughter will never know how much he adored her. 

A million things are running through my head, beautiful memories.  Hearing the little gal at the CVICU tell me how much I look like him. Probably one of the best compliments ever.  I do and as my mom told me far too many times "you are just like your father".  So much. Too much.

I am eternally grateful that on February 11 at 1 pm, I spoke to my Daddy for what would be the last time.  My sister did a Facebook messenger call, since I don't have an iPhone. He looked so frail and scared.

 "I love you Daddy, I love you baby... be good"

I'll try to always be good Daddy... I'll do my best to make you proud.  I promise. 

Rest easy now, you've earned it. I will miss you, I will miss our banter, I will miss hearing your voice and the hugs and kiss when we'd part. 

And I will love you forever...

the end of perfection...

one last peaceful day starts...

It's been over 36 hours since the world tilted on it's axis for us.  Yesterday was probably the hardest day for me to witness.  It hurt me to watch the boys coming to terms with their Daddy's death.  Watching my girls, that killed me.

I was so blessed yesterday.  Even though I knew what I was hiding from a sweet little princess, she didn't. I work with an incredible group of individuals and because of that I was able to spend the last day of my grand baby's innocence with her.  While Mommy and Grandpa dealt with the horrors and sorted out the bits and pieces of death.  I was able to love, spoil and enjoy a Gramma and Grand Baby day.

I had the wonderful gift to protect and prolong the perfection of her childhood.  We giggled, laughed, created, walked, talked, dreamed and schemed.  All the things that my angel loves to do we did.

Might have missed this cake before...

We went to the doctor for her little ear, she is so mature and was able to answer all the questions a Gramma didn't know.  She was so patient as we waited for over an hour.  We schemed that she would be able to miss school for the day (yes, I already knew she wasn't going regardless, but she didn't).

Without knowing how long things would take for Mommy, not knowing how long she got to be untouched by the sadness that was coming, I planned a full and busy day.

Being silly with Scarlet

Being cute with Scarlet

She picked lunch... Doritos taco's at Taco Bell... she discovered she loves Dr. Pepper Vanilla Freezes and the cinnamon balls they serve and I indulged her just a bit more than I normally would have.

After a fun, silly lunch we headed home.  She let Gramma catch a quick cat nap while she enjoyed her cartoons (I'd had about 2 hours of sleep the night before and it was catching up). Thirty minutes later and we were back on the run.

Walking Gator on a crisp afternoon

We walked the boys together, my little old man is so gentle and calm with her.  They enjoyed the extra time in the cool weather that seemed to come rushing in with the tragic loss.  I enjoyed listening to her talk and share with me her hopes and dreams.  I almost started crying on that walk.

Tears threatened as she shared how much she loved her brothers and missed seeing them.  At that point it was still up in the air where they would stay.  I know my sweet girl was willing and able to have them move in with her and baby girl, but they do have a mother of their own.  I was praying they would stay with my girls, but fearful that they would be heading back to Washington.  That story is so deep and twisted that it breaks my heart...

I heard last night they will be heading back west, my heart is so sad.  My little angel will lose her Daddy and her brothers... sometimes I feel that people don't think of all the things that matter. Sometimes I feel adults are very selfish.  Those boys have lives here now, they have girl friends, friends, hopes and dreams...

We found the first red leaf of fall during our walk.

Fall was on it's way, ushering all of the changes in her world with it.

When Grampa called... I knew our timeline.  So we headed off to the store.  Chili needed to be made and she was certain her mommy needed caramel apples.  She didn't know what mom had been busy with, but she was certain that she needed caramel apples to give her energy for the rest of the day.

Wrapping apples takes a lot of concentration...

Did they really think this was easy?

The angel and I spent the remainder of the afternoon being domestic.  While I made the chili for dinner, she worked on the bird house for Scarlet (her mechanical bird). Her creativity and artistic nature fills my soul with positive energy.  As soon as she finished that, I washed and dried her apples and she prepared the caramel apples.  The wraps make it so simple and she was able to read the directions and complete the task without my interference. It was truly a gift of love from her to her Mommy.

Caramel Apples for the family

She was so happy when her brothers walked in with Mommy... she didn't seem surprised at all. She simply turned to me and said "Gramma we need to make two more caramel apples".  She'd made 5, one for each of the people she'd expected.

She'd needed a stuffed hello kitty while we were at the store, I wasn't sure why.  But I said okay, how do you tell a princess no, especially when you are guarding them against a horrible truth. I found out why when Mommy showed up.  She'd given it to mommy... without knowing why she knew mommy needed love and protection.

As we crowded around the dining room table, in between piles of boxes still needing opened and emptied, that little angel willingly gave up chair after chair to be surrounded by her family.  I was still in the kitchen, fixing a different kind of noodle for the boys - who preferred their chili mac with elbow noodles, when she came out to get a kitchen stool.  Telling me I would need to bring one for myself when I came out.

At one point she put both of her little hands on either side of her youngest brother's head and laughingly placed a big kiss on his forehead - that image is going to be in my memory forever! Right beside the sight at the other end of the table where her mommy's heart melted and eyes filled with tears at the same time - she knows the deep love those three share, she knew the pricelessness of that kiss...

She's ready to tackle the world!

A short time later, the world changed for that princess.  When we arrived at her home, she noticed both of Daddy's dogs, she had to have seen her brother's belongings... today in a clearer head, I realize she knew all day that something was going on, that we were keeping her in the dark about something.  She'd asked about him twice before we arrived back at her house. She probably thought Daddy had managed to end up in jail again, he had a rebellious streak that often ended him up in trouble. That was something she was aware of.

Instead of focusing on all of the things unusual around her, she focused on the bags of clothes I had brought over with me the night before for her and mommy to look through.  Things that predated the phone call.  She knew...

She knew mommy was waiting to talk to her, she knew...

As she sat in mommy's lap, as she waited to hear what was going on, her goofy little smile looked so much like her Daddy's... it wasn't a happy smile, it was something different.

In an instant I watched her world change.  I watched my sweet daughter, who's faced more challenges than most of us will see in a lifetime, find strength once again that I didn't know she had.  Calmly, gently, in the softest of voices she told that baby the truth, pure and unvarnished.

The night before, when we'd picked up the boys I'd noticed that Daddy had a strip of pictures of them on the fridge.  I'd taken it off and brought it with us... something told me she would need it.  As Grampa and I prepared to leave, we couldn't help as much as we would have loved to, Momma had it, and she was all the angel needed, I brought it in.

I had planned to leave it on the table, for momma to give her when she felt it was right.  I felt intrusive.  My girls and the youngest of the boys were cuddled together supporting each other as only they could do. Momma asked me to bring it over and when she handed it to the angel she clutched it to her chest, sobbing and but lovingly.

My heart is literally shredded.  Thinking of the pain my girls and the boys are going through is unbelievable.  I know there are thousands of parents and children dealing with these things daily.  My heart goes out to them, but they are not my kids, this has never entered into our world.  This is not something I even know how to understand...

It's true a child should expect to outlive their parents, as every parent wants to be the case, but it's so cruel and horrible for a child to not have their parent as they grow...

In time it will heal, the scar will remain, but it will heal...

Reflections of the Journey..

Was it really only just over 48 hours ago that we left Porto Alegre? We were all sitting in the airport, pretty much all of us were feeling ready to return to our own lives, to see our families and friends.  Sure we were going to miss all our new friends, the experiences that we'd had... the eight days in Brasil had altered all of our lives.  Some of our perceptions had been changed, we'd realized how alike we were even though we were half a world apart, after our time there, our differences were so much less.

On our last morning, we'd had breakfast and left our mark in the Hostel, our group had been there and we wanted to be remembered.  Most of us had slept little the night before in hopes that we would sleep on the almost 10 hour flight that was coming up as we flew from Rio de Janeiro back to Atlanta.  There was air of sleepy, anxious and sadness all around.  We'd had an amazing adventure...

We went and had a final lunch at the ACM, some of the kids were tired of rice and beans... me?  I came home and found a recipe to make them... 

After one last walk through town, back to the hostel we left for the airport... it was time to bid Matheus and the ACM's of Porto Alegre good-bye for now.  The airport has a statue where we were able to get a final selfie as we got ready to go home. 

The flight to Rio de Janeiro was quick and we managed to get checked in without our translator, thank goodness we'd picked up enough to muddle through and for English speaking Brazilians.  After checking in, we had some dinner and waited... almost five hours later... it was good bye Brazil.

Boarding the plane bound for Atlanta our little band of travelers were starting to look so tired, ready for the journey to end.  Clad in our matching white Y shirts, we definitely made an interesting sight.  Yes we stuck out!

The trip to Atlanta had us all sleeping as much as we could and arriving so tired!  But getting more exciting by the minute, even with the adventure of customs and yet another trip through security, we'd never left an airport, but had gone through security three times at that point.  After breakfast, walking up and down the terminal, freshening up as much as we could in an airport sink with limited wrinkly clothing in our backpacks we were ready to go home!  That last few hours lasted as long the second flight... it seemed it would never be time to board the plane that would take us home. 

Most of us slept the final almost two hour flight, we were ready to be home and were so tired from the restless overnight flight.  As the wheels touched down in St. Louis, leaving Porto Alegre far behind, we were ready. 

It was so hard to keep our little group together for the final walk, everyone ready to meet their parents, their families.  As we cleared the secure area we were met by a small group of parents anxious to get their "babies" back.  I was proud of the ones who's parents were waiting a bit further away by baggage, they smiled and let pictures be taken before their own desire to see their parents overwhelmed them and they were ready to go. 

I understood their feelings, I was anxious to see Hubby too.  And as a parent, I know the incredible amount of faith, trust and prayer it took for each of them to release their babies to us to go on such a long journey. Especially as they'd hardly gotten a chance to know me personally before we left.  I was simply the pinch hitter brought in at the last minute to watch over their precious children. 

I am thankful they trusted me, I will always cherish this journey.  I loved the time with this group of kids, they are amazing and have wonderful, loving parents to thank for that.  They will make a difference in this world, I loved the late night conversations, hearing their plans for the future, what they were taking away from the experience we'd shared together.  

It was beyond incredible to listen to these young people that wanted an opportunity to return in the future. To continue to be a part of the Y world wide mission!  I don't know why I was chosen to participate, I do know that I will be forever grateful!  We are planning to get together for lunch before they all head off to college or their final year of high school.  I am pretty sure it won't have rice or beans on the menu... 

This morning as I woke up in my own house, my own bedroom with my boys near me... I was in awe how fast it all feels like it is fading... I realized it'd been almost 48 hours since I'd heard that sweet Portuguese language, since someone had said Bom Dia, since I'd uttered the last Obrigado...

This morning it was walking my boys in the steamy mid-western summer morning air.  It was watering my own mini-jungle... This morning was an early morning ride on the back of our Harley Davidson to enjoy my own country with the freshness that comes from returning from somewhere so different that home seems different. 

The connections aren't gone... I got a message from one of the kids on Facie Bookie this morning... this time in English, not Portuguese... "I enjoyed meeting you and I want to talk to you"... my heart jumped at this. It reminded me of a quote from one of my yearbooks decades ago... "If miles were measured in smiles, all the friends would be together in this world."  yep... I think so...

Tomorrow my world will return to normal. Today, I get to savor the sweet memories, miss our little group and shift back into my real life...