Wednesday, March 26, 2008
The wake
Tonight was the wake of my good friend Chris. I think I have been going non stop since the news on Saturday. I am tired. More numb actually. I still cant believe that I stood next to her casket for over 4 hours accepting condolences from people I had never met. You see, unbeknownst to me, she considered me her surrogate daughter. The logistics boggles the mind because she would have been 13 when all this happened and I dont think the technology of the day would have allowed it. :) Sorry my bad way of attempting a joke. In the obituary I am listed behind her kids as her surrogate daughter. I was overwhelmed by emotion when I was told this on Monday. Her kids cried and I cried and we hugged and lots of "I love you's" were said. That was an emotional day. I stayed the night at her home with her daughter, everyone else went somewhere else. It gave me some much needed privacy to deal with some of her private things that her kids should never see. I would hope that if I passed and my friends knew of something that my kids shouldnt find that they would do what I did. It also gave me time to spend with her spirit in her room. I truly believe that she was there watching me and guiding me on what I needed to do. I felt so much love in there. It was absolutely amazing. After my expedition I felt at peace with her passing. I stopped crying . I knew I had to build myself up to be strong for her kids. And I very strong tonight. But wasnt at peace anymore. The only time I cried, and it wasnt a full blown cry, was when an old professor of mine from my college days said hello to me but used my madien name. I graduated over 14 years ago and he remembered me. It was crazy. Of course I remembered him after he told me who he was and I knew that he looked familiar. I loved his history courses, he had a great dry sense of humor. I guess the reason why I cried was because he reminded me that I was really there in that room with her casket. Now this sounds weird but I feel like I am playing a part in a movie or something and Chris is gonna walk in the door and scream "CUT"! It just doesnt seem real to me. This doesnt seem possible. I am so in denial. But I know its real, I just dont want it to be real. I miss my friend/surrogate mother. She has to come back but I know that she isnt. This fucking sucks!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Heartbroken
I am not even sure what to say. My good friend died last night. I am not really sure what happened but I guess it doesnt matter cause she is gone. I got a call from her daughter around 8pm. I was putting the boys to bed. I am shocked and very sad. I went to her house to be with her kids, I used to be their babysitter. You have heard about her before. I was with them for 14 years, she was my obgyn and my friend. I just cant believe it. All I could tell her kids was that we would get thru this together and I would be there for them for the rest of our lives. She is the reason why I wanted kids. She was also the one who told me that I probably wouldnt be able to have my own children. She supported me through thick and thin, and was probably the most excited when I told her I was pregnant!! She told me that she knew one day I would be a Mom and was proud of me for not giving up.
So my dear friend Chris, I will watch over our kids and take care of them. I miss you terribly and wish you didnt have to leave so soon. Life will defintely not be the same without you. Thank you for being there for me and supporting me when I needed it the most. You are a wonderful woman and the most caring doctor that I had ever met. I hope that you are raising a glass of wine up in heaven with your Dad and Rita. I love you and miss you.
So my dear friend Chris, I will watch over our kids and take care of them. I miss you terribly and wish you didnt have to leave so soon. Life will defintely not be the same without you. Thank you for being there for me and supporting me when I needed it the most. You are a wonderful woman and the most caring doctor that I had ever met. I hope that you are raising a glass of wine up in heaven with your Dad and Rita. I love you and miss you.
Monday, March 17, 2008
The Invisible Mom
I got this from an email from a friend. I dont know who wrote it but it touched me.
Invisible {mom}
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible; 'The Invisible Mom.' Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, and she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride... I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know..... I just did. The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.
Invisible {mom}
It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible; 'The Invisible Mom.' Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.' I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, and she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England . Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'To Charlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride... I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great Job, MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know..... I just did. The Will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Emotional Contractor
Two years ago this week I was admitted to the antepartum wing of St. Mary's Hospital. I had been having contractions for over 3 weeks and had been evaluated in the Fetal Eval unit several times. It seemed like I was the girl who cried contraction because everytime I had an eval all was quiet. I felt my first true contraction at the wake of a dear friend in late February. I knew what it was and tried not be to too concerned and did what the phamplet from the maternal fetal practice said to do. I drank some water, laid down, and tried not to freak out. The next day was the funeral and I felt them there to. Things just went downhill after that. I asked to be put on bedrest and was told that things were fine. Ok, I believed my doc, and went on about my business. I started having contractions all the time but not when I showed up for an appointment or at the evaluation unit of the hospital. I was uneasy as how things were going and wanted someone to tell me to stay off my feet and not do anything. I didnt get that. But that's a whole other story.
Anyway, I guess you could say that I was an emotional contractor. When things got stressful I would contract. My bathroom was under construction and things werent going well. The FIL was involved and that always means problems. The MIL was up my ass giving me all sorts of trouble. Finally the new plumbing was going to be put in the bathroom and I was thrilled. Then the other shoe dropped. When the plumber was doing his thing and noticed that the floor had to be completely replaced. It was the beginning of the end. That night I had to stay at the in laws house because the bathroom floor was competely non existent. I was uncomfortable and very cranky and any extended amount of time that I have to spend with that woman makes me crazier and crankier. I had to get up several times that night to pee, like all pregnant women, and everytime, there she was in her house robe asking me if I was ok. For the love of GOD!!! That next morning I knew that I wasnt going into work, I couldnt stay there for fear of commiting homicide, and I couldnt go home cause there was no toliet and the workmen would be there constructing a new floor, so I did what any smart pregnant chick would do and I went to a motel for the day. The clerk gave me a good room with a recliner after I told her that I couldnt go home because of the lack of facilites and needed to sleep.
That afternoon I had an appointment and knew that something was going to happen. I wasnt prepared. My cervix had shortened and they could detect contractions. I was so upset. All this time I had told them that I was having them and it seemed like no one listened. Then bang, I am being told to go over to the hospital right then to be admitted. I cried and cried. I dont know if I was relieved or scared. I didnt want to be stuck in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy but begrudingly I said ok, I will go but I want to go home first and get some things. I was strongly cautioned not to, I think for fear that I wouldnt return, but I went home, said a very tearful goodbye to my animals, packed up some things to keep me from going insane, and cried.
Stay tuned....
Anyway, I guess you could say that I was an emotional contractor. When things got stressful I would contract. My bathroom was under construction and things werent going well. The FIL was involved and that always means problems. The MIL was up my ass giving me all sorts of trouble. Finally the new plumbing was going to be put in the bathroom and I was thrilled. Then the other shoe dropped. When the plumber was doing his thing and noticed that the floor had to be completely replaced. It was the beginning of the end. That night I had to stay at the in laws house because the bathroom floor was competely non existent. I was uncomfortable and very cranky and any extended amount of time that I have to spend with that woman makes me crazier and crankier. I had to get up several times that night to pee, like all pregnant women, and everytime, there she was in her house robe asking me if I was ok. For the love of GOD!!! That next morning I knew that I wasnt going into work, I couldnt stay there for fear of commiting homicide, and I couldnt go home cause there was no toliet and the workmen would be there constructing a new floor, so I did what any smart pregnant chick would do and I went to a motel for the day. The clerk gave me a good room with a recliner after I told her that I couldnt go home because of the lack of facilites and needed to sleep.
That afternoon I had an appointment and knew that something was going to happen. I wasnt prepared. My cervix had shortened and they could detect contractions. I was so upset. All this time I had told them that I was having them and it seemed like no one listened. Then bang, I am being told to go over to the hospital right then to be admitted. I cried and cried. I dont know if I was relieved or scared. I didnt want to be stuck in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy but begrudingly I said ok, I will go but I want to go home first and get some things. I was strongly cautioned not to, I think for fear that I wouldnt return, but I went home, said a very tearful goodbye to my animals, packed up some things to keep me from going insane, and cried.
Stay tuned....
Friday, March 7, 2008
Thursday, March 6, 2008
The day my tivo died.
I am so sad. I loved my tivo. It got me through being on bedrest and late night feedings. Today it died. No more tivo. I knew something was wrong a few weeks back when there was a disk error message and its never been the same since. I subscribe to Directv and they no longer sell Tivo brand dvrs, they sell their crappy dvrs. I know this because we have one in the basement and in the living room. In my bedroom, my sad Tivo sits with an error message on it. Its lonely, or maybe I am projecting my feelings onto the Tivo. I dont want a crappy dvr, I want my Tivo back. I think DH is going to buy a new hard drive and try to fix it that way. But who knows how long it will take to get a new hard drive??? I cant help but whine. Its a very sad day. :(
Monday, March 3, 2008
Can you guess what I just bought?
I have many smudges on the new camera lense. Its fine. I probably shouldnt have let the lense cap dangle so little dirty hands wouldnt be attracted to it. Silly Mommy.
Oh on another note, brand spakin new Nine Inch Nails is available on line!!!! I love that the new music was released without any advance notice and promtly crashed the servers so almost no one could download it. Its amazing how so many people wanted it and freaked out when it wouldnt download. I was one of them last night but did get a few songs today. The cool thing about the new NIN cd is that its all instrumental. I love just about anything Trent does but his instrumentals are always my favorites. Today when I was previewing a few new tracks, Ollie turned and looked at me and got this huge smile on his face. He jumped off the couch and came over so he could get a listen. He just kept smiling. I already knew that the boys were big fans of NIN but wasnt sure if they would like this. Anytime we are in the car and they start fussing I put on NIN and they calm down. So if you like NIN go check out the new cd "Ghosts I-IV" its pretty cool. And you can download it for free......Thanks Trent!!!!
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