A Letter to My Daughter

If you ever doubt that God exists....just look in the mirror.

You are an answered prayer.

I remember the moment sitting in church when I prayed to God asking that we would have a third, beautiful, healthy baby, and if He saw fit for us to raise a girl, that we would have one.  I remember a calm washing over me and I cried.  I hoped no one noticed, but it was hard to hide.  It wasn't even two weeks later we found out you were growing inside of me.

Pregnancy was not easy...the typical fatigue, nausea, and mood swings soon followed.  I began having an irregular heart beat requiring medication and then gestational diabetes.  I prayed to God again asking that you were unharmed by the heart medications I had to take.  I worked hard to keep my blood sugars under control so I would not need another medication.  And you know what....I DID IT!

We found out you were a girl and my heart began to sing.

Did you know that you inspire me?  Yes YOU!

I know I need to show you and teach you what it means to be a woman, a friend, a wife.....and I must do a good job of that myself.

There are so many things I want for you....I want you to know that beauty comes from within and not from a magazine on the shelf.  A kind and gentle heart will get you further in life than deep pockets.  Life is a precious gift...don't spend yours on petty things.  Love God.  Forgiveness is the greatest gift you give yourself.  True friendship is rare and priceless.  When you have a child, know that your life will forever change in ways that you can not comprehend.  Never let a day go by when those you love question how you feel about them.  The most precious gift you can give is of yourself.  There are people who will take advantage of that, but don't let it change who you are.

Be Happy.

I will always love you more than I can express in words.  Love your brothers.

Most of all, I hope I am the mother that you need me to be.  My actions may not always seem fair, but I promise you this...I will always do whatever I need to do for your best interest.  I am your mother first, your friend second.  I think of the first as the greater of the two...many people will be your friend, but only I can be your mother.

I love you.
Mom

The Loss of a Child

I can not even imagine what it is like to lose a child...or children. 

I always thought it would be heart wrenching, but now that I have children, I think it would be like losing a part of my soul.  What brought this topic on you ask?  Ever since my eldest son was born, I have been a part of a group of women who all had a child in October of 2007.  We have shared about our children, but also divorces, financial troubles, illnesses, and so much more.  Never would we have thought that we would be talking about the loss of one of 'our' children. 

It has brought out so many emotions from all of the moms....anger, frustration, compassion, sadness, guilt, confusion...all of us trying to figure out what we are supposed to do.

I have examined my own feelings and have come to a couple of conclusions:

1) When someone so young is lost, the fragility of life is brought into sharp focus.  The lives of my own children are not guaranteed.  That is terrifying.  It makes me sad to know that my time with them can come to an end before I am ready.  Likewise, my time here is not guaranteed.  My heart breaks for my friend who will soon be without her son.  I think the best way to honor her loss is to work as hard as I can to make the most of my time with my children. I will not be perfect, I will get frustrated with my kids, they will get mad at me...but at the heart of it is a renewed determination to be the best mom for my boys that I can be...so that if I am gone, or God forbid they are taken from me, there is never a time in their lives when they question how much I love them.

2) Faith is challenged at times like these.  More than usual.  I was recently confirmed and spent months examining my faith...how much do I trust God to know what is best when it seems so unfair.  The truth is...He does know what is best.  Even if I am not happy with the outcome.  I do not believe that God does bad things to people, He takes care people when bad things happen to them.  I do not doubt for a moment that hundreds of people are embracing this family in prayer and love.  I also do not doubt that so very many people are waiting to do whatever they can to ease the pain of loss they feel.  God's love is very much present at this boy's bedside and through the hearts of people who care about him and his family. 

3) Heaven does exist.  Can there be anything closer to hell than losing a child?  There has to be an amazing, beautiful, beyond words place that we go to after here...where all the love that we have in our human hearts bursts free and achieves full expression...a place our words simply can not describe.  I do not believe love dies, it goes on and seeks out its companions...parents, children, even pets.  You simply can not stop it.  Nothing could possibly stop me from loving my children or stop my love from reaching my children.  Heaven is love. 

Maybe my views are over simplistic to some, but it is how I make sense of a senseless world.  I know that this family and little boy who I have never met in real life have caused me to examine and solidify my own beliefs, to live with love...one day at a time.

You Still Walk With Me

I think it is natural for me to wonder if once I am gone from this world, if people will miss me, wish I was here, remember our times together.  But a thought recently crossed my mind.  Do people who have passed away and are now in heaven wonder if we think about them?  Do they know if we do?  Are our thoughts and feelings still able to reach them, if we don't know that they do? People have said and I have had experiences were I can almost feel someone I love who has passed away.  Almost as if I turned my head fast enough I might catch a glimpse of them.  I never do....but that feeling lingers. 

People who I have know throughout my life and have passed I think about often.  Not in sadness necessarily, but in how I can make my life better because of theirs.

For example...to the young man in my high school who committed suicide...I do not remember your name, but I can say this...I may not be able to keep my kids from being bullied, but I sure as hell won't let my kids be one.  I will teach them to be kind to everyone and anything less is just not acceptable; to reach out to the kid always picked last in gym class and invite him/her over to birthday parties and such.  I want my boys to learn that everyone has something to offer that is valuable and may even help them to become better people. 

To my friend who died in a car accident just before our junior year in high school...I will teach my boys that cars are only toys when they come from Matchbox.  I have taught them to buckle up and they do!  They even yell at grandma when she doesn't put hers on!  I also try to never miss an opportunity to see a friend even if it is for a fleeting moment....because you never know when that moment could have been your last. 

To my grandmother...sometimes letting go is what has to happen and that is ok.  It's not good bye...it is 'see you later.'  The love that exists between two people does not end at death, in fact, it endures.  And that same love will reunite you in heaven, not just with your spouse, but with everyone that you love.

To many of my patients who have died....not even sure where to begin...I know that I can make a difference even to a stranger that I may never see again.  What matters is the kindness that you carry in your heart and on your sleeve.  I wear it proudly and try to be compassionate to even the most challenging people.  After all, I truly have no idea what is going in their lives. 

Most of all....Kim.  I cherish every day with my kids.  Yes, they have their challenging days, but I still love them so much that it makes me weep.  I am trying to make the most of my time here.  Make it count.  I am trying to take care of myself so that I can be here as long as I can, as best as I can.  I try to remember what you said to me...each day is a gift.  Some days it is hard, but I am trying. 

One might think that all of these thoughts make me sad, but truthfully, they give me courage, faith, and purpose.  I know without a doubt they still walk with me in this life and I can keep them near by remembering all of the things they taught me.  I hope that some day I will be able to tell them these things myself and that, in case they were wondering, I did think about them on this side of life......

Just Before Heaven

As I have said before, growing in my faith has given me a greater sense of calm in my life.  Now when I am challenged with a situation in my life I pause and think, pray.  But every once in awhile it is almost as if God jumps right in front of me and I am not sure how to handle what is happening.  I of course email Father Rick when this happens.

Here is what I sent to him:

"Father Rick


I have another question to ask you. Please forgive me if the explanation is a little vague as I have to respect patient privacy. I am a registered nurse. I work in a clinic. It so happened that I was at work when a patient fell gravely ill. I was part of a team that tried to help this patient, however, she did not live.

First of all, being involved in these situations is highly emotional for me. But as the events were unfolding, I couldn’t help but feel in my heart that I was exactly where God wanted me to be, doing what I was doing. Even if the patient did not survive. I do not know why it felt like I should be there if I was ultimately powerless to do anything about the outcome. And I feel it so matter-of-factly, no question in my mind and heart whatsoever. As I saw her condition decline, I felt like I just knew that God was going to take her home. This feeling has come over me in other situations where patients have died. It is a strange calm despite the flurry of activity going on. The feeling is different when they do survive—there isn’t that feeling of finality that washes over me. And, I hope you don’t think I am completely out of my mind for saying this, but I will take a chance. As I watch patients who end up passing away, the phrase I use is ‘s/he saw angels’. There is this look that crosses their face for a split second and I just know that they are seeing something I can not…something beautiful. It is usually just after this moment that the calm hits me like a tidal wave.

I feel almost guilty for thinking or feeling that I have some sense of what God’s intentions are in these moments. Why would I have that feeling? Why me? I do not want to mistake my own feelings for something divine and be wrong. (I hope that makes sense). It is such a powerful, strange, calming, and almost deliberate guidance that I sense and just relax inside myself and go with it. I don’t question it at all.

I am curious to what your thoughts are on this somewhat disjointed email. Is it only my own response to the situation I am feeling or is it possible God is making his presence more known to me? I am hoping to understand more about myself and God in these situations.

As always, I appreciate you taking the time to help me understand these snapshots in my life. Thank you.
Sincerely,
J

***

Of course I was happy to receive his reply

"Dear Jaime,


St. Paul wrote that "eye has not seen and ear has not heard what God has ready for those who love Him," intimating that passing through death into new life has got to be a "wow" moment - those closest to those who are actively dying, often medical personnel called to an ER room or scene, can be privileged to catch a moment with some that defies explanation but takes faith. The comfort you receive is not only for you but also for those who will need it in and through you, whether at that very particular setting/time or at others yet to be, known only to God. As God is omnipresent, all we need is sensitive radar to detect and feel Him working with us, through us, for others and ourselves as well.

Father Rick"
****

It is so reassuring to me that there are answers, if you ask the questions...that there is something that can explain what we see, feel, hear.  It makes God seem more reachable.  That He is not some where off waiting for us to come to Him.  That He is here, with us all of the time, helping, guiding even if we are not aware of it...and that these small miracles can be seen if we are paying attention and quieting down the internal chatter that drowns out these moments sometimes.

I know that I do not have a ton of people who read what I post here, but I hope that it helps someone believe more, have courage to ask questions, or even reaffirm what you already know.

Till next time.....

From One Minute to Three Miles

I decided a couple of months ago to embark on a journey.  One I honestly did not think I would be able to finish.  I thought to myself, I am going to prove I can not do this.  I am going to keep trying until I fail because I do not think I can do this.

I wanted to start jogging. So I did...using a program called C25K or couch to 5k.  It is a program designed for people who do not run, to get running.  I had tried running a couple of times in the past and could not do it because I would get so short of breath.  Since the last time I tried, I discovered I have a touch of asthma.  It was worse during pregnancy, cold weather, when I am sick, and when I try to exercise.  I have an inhaler now that I use just when I need it. 

Anyways, I started my mission to prove to myself I couldn't do it.  The first week, you start jogging in one minute intervals alternating with walking.  I can not tell you how hard it was to jog for that minute.  I would look at the timer and pray for the seconds to magically tic by faster.  They never showed me any mercy.  My feet were screaming.  So much so that I literally had to stop walking  and rest to feel like I could get back home.

A dear friend of mine schooled me on how to buy good running shoes.  That made such a difference I could not believe it!!!  I continued on with my journey in running only to be crippled with shin splints.  I literally felt like someone was stabbing me in the shins.  I could not go up and down stairs.  I pushed myself to run with shin splints.  HUGE mistake.  I had to stop and sit at the park because it hurt so much.  If I would have had my phone, I would have called my husband to come and get me they hurt so bad.  After talking to people, I realized ice was the magic trick and ibuprofen certainly helped.

I wondered what people thought of this at least slightly overweight chick running and walking.  Then, after a couple of weeks, I stopped caring.  I adopted the attitude of 'if you don't like the way I look jogging, then don't look at me.'

I pressed onward.  It just so happened I started this journey during the second hottest summer on record.  It forced me to do something else I never imagined I would do....get up before work to exercise.  I also went after dark when the heat wasn't so oppressive.  I learned the value of moisture wicking clothing (I think that is what it is called).  Cotton does NOT breathe well at all. 

I was still waiting for my body to betray me.  Then, it did.  I tried jogging two days in a row.  I think it was about 3/4 of the way through the program.  I could not catch my breath.  I stopped jogging in my workout, caught my breath, and started again to no avail.  I felt defeated.  I talked to my doctor who said to try again after a few days and allow my body to rest.  Being the non-compliant patient that I am, I waited two days, did my inhaler and picked up where I left off. 

The difference was striking.  I made it through my work out and felt like I could keep going.  Believe it or not, I was MAD! I had taken the program slower trying to make sure I could keep my breathing in check and never even tried my inhaler.  Now, I do my inhaler about 10 minutes before starting.  The difference still astonishes me.  It is a matter of muscle conditioning the majority of the time vs. my breathing. 

I pressed on through the program now determined to prove to myself that I COULD do it.  I added a few new tunes that happen to motivate me and jogged three miles.  That is beyond crazy to me!!  I started out praying for 60 seconds to go by faster and now I am working on shaving time off my 3 mile jog. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be physically capable of doing this.  It took me about 12 weeks to get to this point.  Even more surprising--I get lost in my thoughts when I am jogging.  It is almost like I can disconnect physically and spend time inside myself.  It is a comforting place I enjoy visiting. 

There is something to be said for accomplishing a physical goal...to push your body to its limits...and then a little more.  I always thought people were crazy for jogging religiously.  Now, I get it.  To feel my muscles grow, my heart and lungs burn to keep pace with my legs, and then suddenly it isn't so hard anymore, to know that I can push my physical body to do more is addicting.  The knowledge that I can do something I put my mind to that is just for me, no one else, is intoxicating. 

I am signed up for my first 5K race.  It is something I never thought I would be capable of doing.  I will have a race number!  I will get a t-shirt that says I did a 5K!  Better yet, another friend who inspired me to even try the program will be there with me.  She is actually training for a marathon now, so this will be no challenge for her.  But she is doing it to support me!  A coworker says she will go too.  To say I am excited is an understatement!

What a journey that I am on...and it isn't even over yet :)

Catching Up

Wow....time sure does fly!  I can't believe it has been two months since I posted last. 

First, I did go to confession.  I emailed Father Rick and set up a time with him on a Saturday afternoon.  I walked into that little room, sat down, and spent 45 minutes talking with him.  It was some of the best 'therapy' I have ever had in my life.  One of the most important things we talked about was this: I asked him, "why do we as catholics have confession?  If Jesus died to save us from our sins, why confess?'  I don't remember Father's exact words, but the message I took away was this: Jesus did die to save us from our sins.  Confession is a celebration of sorts that we are saved.  And yet it is also a way to say, I am not taking what Jesus did for me lightly and I want to try and do better.  I want to try and do something meaningful to move my spirit closer to Jesus--aka penance.  It is not 'I was naughty, what is my punishment.'  It made a lot of sense in my heart. 

I am not going to list my confessions or state what my penance was, but I will say this: it was meaningful on a spiritual level.  It did help me to grow in my faith.  And that, in my opinion, IS what confession is trying to teach me.

Second, we did renew our wedding vows in the church.  Most of our family members were there.  It was a small gathering after Saturday evening's first mass.  It was brief, but provided my heart with a calm reassurance that I can not quite put into words. 

I am hoping to take the next step in my faith journey and work towards confirmation.  Classes start in September and meet weekly.  More to come on that front as the time nears :)

Kim is still in my thoughts and heart on a regular basis.  I can feel her presence at times, usually when I am outside playing with the kids.  Rather fitting as she loved her girls and being a mother.  I say hi when I feel her near and thank her for stopping by.

Overall, something in me is changing.  I can not say exactly what it is, but when the day has quieted and I am left with my thoughts, I can feel myself changing.  It is a strong, calm feeling that comes from somewhere deep inside of me.  I am not sure what it is just yet, but I can not wait to find out!

Motherless Day

I apologize in advance for this somewhat scattered post......

It struck me on Saturday night like a ton of bricks.  I started to cry.  It is the girls first Mother's Day without Kim.  Her mom's first Mother's Day without her only daughter. 

It's one of those days where I ask, why do I get to be here and she does not? Why do two little girls not get to have their mother?  It makes me angry and tremendously sad. 

I hope that they do celebrate Kim.  Remember how she loves them, fought to stay here and be with them.  That she is still looking down on them, watching, caring for, and guiding them.

I did not go to church this weekend.  I do not think it is fair to be angry at God and go be among people who are praising Him.  I need to have a private discussion with God this day. 

I am trying to remember that God gave me two beautiful children and I need to celebrate my own motherhood experience and my gifts of two beautiful boys that are the reason I live and breathe. 

It is hard to be happy when there are still so many things I do not understand and the world seems out of balance.  I sent a text message to Kim's brother asking him to tell his mom I am thinking about her and the girls.  He says he will do that. 

Children just should not be without their mothers.  Period. 

My message to all moms: love your children endlessly and make sure they KNOW it...that they never doubt for one second you would do ANYTHING for them.  You never know when that last moment for you, or even them, may come.  And wouldn't that be the greatest tragedy as a mother?  To have your children doubt or question your absolute love for them...never will that happen with my boys or I have failed as a mother. 

Forgive Me Father

No one is perfect.  Seems pretty obvious.  But there are moments in my life I am not proud of and do not share with anyone really.  They were sins according to the Catholic Church, or so I thought.  I sent this most recent email to Father Rick:
*****
Father Rick

There is another question I have that would give me a great sense of spiritual relief to have ‘resolved.’ I was always taught that you do not have sexual relations before marriage. Well…I was not given a choice in the matter. As a result of what happened, I made a lot of decisions that I would not have otherwise made. Just to put your mind at ease, I have received counseling for what happened and even pressed legal charges against my predator many years ago. I have forgiven the person that did that to me, even taken pity on him. He has since met God and had to answer for his actions against me and other young girls.

I know that God wouldn’t hold me at fault for what happened. I guess my question is this…how do I spiritually know that what has happened since that time and some of the choices I am not necessarily proud of, are forgiven by God? ( I did not do ANYTHING to harm or be a predator to any one else. It was more believing that I did not deserve to be treated better as a woman and had no internal value). I have to say that truthfully, I don’t know that I would erase some of those things that I did because they allowed me to become what I am today—a loving mother, wife, and successful in my career. They were tremendous learning moments in my life. And looking back, I know without a doubt God was there protecting me. There is just no other way to explain how I managed to come through on the other side as the person I am now.

I need to know that I am forgiven by God. Even for the years it took me to go from victim to survivor and objectively I knew better on some of my choices, did them anyways because I didn’t think I deserved better.

It has been such a long road for me. This is the last piece of this puzzle for me and has taken me about 20 years to have the courage to ask it.
Thank you again for taking the time to answer these questions in email. Some things are just too emotional for me to ask in person. I don’t want to use all of your Kleenex :)
Have a wonderful day Father. And I will keep bugging my husband for who his witness will be.
Sincerely
Jaime
*****

I sent that email last night.  I know he does not work on Tuesdays, so I did not expect a response today already.  It was a little hard to read the first time because tears of relief started to well up in my eyes.  Here is his response:
*****
Dear Jaime,


There are two immediate sayings that jump to my heart when I hear of the ache caused you by a predatory individual who caused you much pain and confusion but who also, as God writes straight with crooked lines, occasioned in you some graces to dedicate yourself to being loving wife, mother and woman of integrity - "a woman more sinned against than sinning" and "do not remember the sins of my youth, but in your love remember me because of your goodness, O Lord." When we're sorely sinned against, we are left with few, if any choices, and not the clear freedom we need to do the better we know now only by 20/20 hindsight - grave sin must be an ENTIRELY FREE act of the will - and someone victimized by a predator is NOT entirely free and, as such, not fully responsible as grave fear impedes freedom. And why is it so important that our God forgive the sins of our youth - because we become different, better people through what we experience, whether for good or for ill. My sense is that your are comfortable at this point with the part of the past has been both left behind as well as the part incorporated in you and your future - the assurance of God's forgiveness is in the prayer of absolution during confession, so I recommend a general confession mentioning this matter and hearing God's word of mercy and forgiveness in the sacred words that absolve our sins in the church at the will of the Father, by the power of Jesus, and throuth the Holy Spirit. You can simply come any weekend on a Saturday between 4-4:45PM or, if you prefer, slightly ahead of that regular time (in case you need some an extra kleenex and TLC) or by appointment at your convenience - maybe someday before renewing your vows this might feel right and good, and, as such, make the renewal of vows feel even better! With empathy, Father Rick

****
 
It's amazing isn't it?!  One of the things I love about Father's responses is that he can point out in the bible where these types of issues are addressed.  I am guessing I would have come across these points at some time, but the fact that he can tell me these things are there without me having to hunt for them is such a wonderful gift to me.  Priceless actually. 
 
I know that what I went through was not my fault, but it doesn't necessarily excuse my actions either.  At some point, I did become aware that the choices I was making were not right in the eyes of God or in the run of life.  For a long time I have felt unworthy because of some of the decisions I made.  But to know that God still has His arms open to me despite all that...makes me want to cry. 
 
I do plan to go to confession.  Not in the sense that I feel 'guilty' but to know that God has not judged me and no longer 'pays attention' to those moments in my life.  I feel that my penance was the hard work that I had to do to overcome what happened to me and to change my life and do something positive with it vs. continuing a horrid behavior of abuse to a child. 
 
I genuinely hope that someone who reads this and possibly suffered a person struggle like mine can feel a sense of relief and be inspired to return to his/her own faith--catholic or whatever it might be.  It's a loving, forgiving journey that I am on and has helped me to heal in ways I didn't even know that I was hurting.

Easter Eve

I have continued on my journey growing in my faith.  I have enjoyed it quite a bit!  I did a Bible study class during lent which was actually a class geared towards answering: how/when/who wrote the Bible??  It was a fact based class that made the Bible seem so much more real to me rather than being this book that just 'exists'.  (no disrespect intended).  I am hopeful that the gentleman who did the class will do another one!

My husband and I did go and talk to Father Rick about getting our marriage blessed.  It was a very non-intimidating process of talking to him.  He asked about our wedding and I explained why we did it the way that we did it.  We also talked about why it was important to us to have the marriage blessed in the church.  We filled out some paperwork and now we have to get a few things in order--baptism records, our marriage certificate.  Then, we can set a date!  I am really excited!!  I am hoping to do it close to the date of our 6 year anniversary this year.  I am also looking forward to having my friend who encouraged me to return to the church and explore my faith be the witness for my side.  Seems quite fitting if you ask me!

I have also been trying to keep up with the daily Bible readings.  It is a challenge some days as I just want to go to sleep or relax.  I am always happy that I took the time to do it.  The readings are usually a paragraph or two. It doesn't take more than 10 minutes.  However, I usually end up reading more because I want to know more about what happens.  Some parts are easy to understand and others are a bit more challenging. 

If there is one thing that I have learned through this process, it is that faith is something that you work at and cultivate.  Seems pretty obvious I suppose.  But I guess I always thought you either have faith or you do not.  And to some extent that is true, however, the difference is how much you open your heart to it has many different levels.  For me, it is a gradual process. 

I find some things seem to be changing in my life in a subtle way.  I feel a greater sense of peace creeping into my life.  The best analogy I can come up with is it's like sitting at the ocean.  it is peaceful even though the waves are crashing on the beach, the birds are flying around, the breeze waxes and wanes.  My life isn't calm like a lake when it perfectly reflects the world around it.  It is more like the ocean--in a constant motion, always changing, but some how peaceful.  I believe it is my search for understanding in my faith that has made me feel much more grounded in my life.  I wish I had started this journey sooner instead of wasting time trying to find peace in financial gain, perfectly obedient children, or the most successful position at work.  Peace and faith come from and are grown within.  It isn't something you arrive at or achieve and then you can take a breath and not have to worry about it anymore. It is something that I control and that is such an empowering feeling.

Easter this year has a meaning for me it has never had before.  I always used to think of Easter bunnies and brightly colored eggs.  Now I think about the fact that Jesus will be resurrected tomorrow and is our proof that this life is just the beginning.  When our journey ends on earth, we begin in heaven.  It is why I will get to see Kim again.  It is how I know she is at peace in a place where I can not be with her just yet.  It is also where I will see my children and husband when we can't be here together anymore.  What a truly amazing gift we are given.  How can I not celebrate??!!

Unconditional Love

I admit...I have not been keeping up with my blog like I would like to do.  Being a mama of two boys tends to take a bit more time now and again :)  No complaints here! 

I have continued on this new journey in my life.  I emailed Father Rick asking another question that has been nagging at me for over a decade.  Here is what I wrote in my email:

Father Rick
I can not begin to tell you how happy I have been since reading your email! It is a new level of peace in my heart and somewhat of a rekindled desire to foster the love between my husband and I. Thank you!

Another one of the big questions I have has to do with God’s love. I remember always being told God’s love is unconditional, but then it would seem that there were all of these conditions placed on it: one must go to confession, one must go to church every week, etc. It seemed to be conflicting. I thought growing up this wasn’t right. I know now that I have had children that this can’t be right. I always tell people that I never TRULY knew what it meant to love someone unconditionally until I looked at my first born child. I knew I would never be the same person again. There is nothing my children could do to make me not love them. Ever. That does not mean I would support all of their decisions, but it does mean that I would do anything for their benefit, even if it meant giving my own life. I know that God’s love is supposed to be beyond our comprehension…something so beautiful that there are no words to adequately describe it. I can not describe the love I have for my children. I hope that God’s love IS truly without condition and that we are all God’s children.
Which leads me to believe that if a person has never been taught or received any formal religious up bringing that they too would still be taken into heaven. It makes me think of a mother who has given her child up for adoption and hasn’t seen them in 20 years. That mother very likely still loves and cares deeply about that child.
I hope I am not rambling or nonsensical! I often wonder if other people have the same questions.
Thank you so much for taking the time to answer me. I know that you are busy between two parishes.
Have a wonderful rest of your week!
Sincerely,
J
******

One of the reasons I had not signed my name in the email to this point is that there is a level of comfort in anonymity.  I have been so happy with his honest, yet comforting responses. 

******
Dear J,
I am pleased that you are pleased with the reply about your marriage related questions and that somehow all of that, in the good grace of God, is stirring the hearts of husband and wife in ever increasing fondness, devotion, affection and love for one another! That God's love is unconditional is without doubt - God's love for us is total, not subject to ifs, ands or buts, genuine and sincere. The invitation of Scripture and church teachings is to grow in our love for God and others so that our love for God and others might imitate God's love for us and for all. Prayer, attendance at Mass and frequenting the sacraments are means to growth in that love as every sacrament gives grace, a fancy theology word for God's love; they bring us near God in a personal encounter with Christ who instituted them. They are not so much "conditions" for love but do further and foster our growth in love for God and others! They help spend time with our God and time is needed for love to grow. Without them we have not yet experienced the intimacy, strength, devotion and tremendous depth of the love God has for us and for us to share with each other. The prophet Isaiah resounds with your sentiments about the love of God being like the love of a mother, asking ironically - "Could a mother forget her baby, a woman the child within her womb? Yet even if these forget, yes, even if these forget, I will never forget my own!" That a mother could forget a child is impossible - it is even more impossible for God, such is God's love. God's love has a way of reaching souls everywhere and under any condition, in ways unknown, so we who are well-loved leave much to God - God's love, while unconditional, is also not one-sided - it must be reciprocated as the One who truly loves us leaves us free to accept or reject the love offered us. It makes little sense to refuse the gifts of love! Father Rick

*****

Such a warmth in my heart exists.  I have such a sense of peace knowing that I was wrong for so many years and I am eager to continue learning about my own faith in God through the Catholic Church. 

I have continued going to church on Sundays.  I even went to Ash Wednesday services for the first time since being in grade school.  Yesterday I dropped off our church membership information.

I do not want anyone to think I am jumping into this experience blindly and accepting whatever is said to me.  Quite the contrary.  I have been reading the book that is put in the pews that explain the readings and trying to grasp the message.  It seems easy to apply to daily life.  At this point, I do not want to go to church just to say that I go.  I want to further my knowledge and deepen my faith. 

Until next time....

Over the Moon

I have continued going to church and have really enjoyed Father Rick. He seems passionate but not over the top; caring but not so much so that it seems forced; knowledgeable without being intimidating.

I decided to email him, the suggestion of a friend, to ask about my question with regards to my marriage. I was not sure how to word what I wanted to say. Here is what I wrote:

"Father Rick

I realize that you don't know me by face, but I am hoping you might be willing to provide me with some guidance. I have had some life changing events take place over the last year that have led me to want to return to my religious roots. This is a process that I need to take one step at a time. I have always been spiritual, but not necessarily religious from the time I left my private grade school in 8th grade. I am finding I have a lot of misconceptions about the Catholic faith. I am working through them one at a time.

I am hoping you could answer a question for me that has been nagging at me for a long time. My husband and I choose to be married by a nondenominational minister. I would like to know if our marriage is 'recognized' by the Catholic church. I know that we may not have received the sacrament of marriage, but it would break my heart if in the eyes of the church the first 5½ years of our marriage didn't 'count'. I do not know if I am using the correct terms or not, so I hope you understand what I am getting at. My hope is that my husband and I could renew our wedding vows in the church at some point.

Thank you in advance for taking the time to answer this very important question for me."

Off the email went and I could not help but check my email repeatedly throughout the day. I sent it on Saturday and it dawned on me that I probably would not hear from him until after the weekend services were finished.

I got ready for church on Sunday and my oldest son wanted to go. Off we went. I wondered if somehow, just by looking at me, he would know I was the one that sent the email....if he had even read it.

Silly, huh?

It has been an interesting experience so far for me going to church. One of the readings from this past week had to do with marriage. How it mirrors God's love. When I met my husband, I knew he had to be 'made' for me, not because he is the perfect human being, but he was everything I was looking for in so many ways I can not even begin to explain. He certainly can frustrate me and we have had some growing pains in our marriage, but that is to be expected. I could not be more proud of what we have grown together in the last 5 1/2 years.

As mass ended, I scooped up my son and took him to the middle isle where Father walks by and held out my son's little hand. Sure enough, he gave my son a high five. My heart was happy.

We left and went on with our day. I continued to check regularly for a reply from him. No answer as of Sunday night when I went to bed. That's ok, I thought. Sunday must be his busiest day.

Monday morning I woke up and went about my normal routine. I had the best day at work I had had in a long time--but that's another post :) I got home and checked my email. There was a response from Father Rick. I could feel my heart skip a beat and read his reply quickly the first time:

"Dear J,
Thanks for sharing with me a bit of your excitement about returning to your religious roots - a bit of a distinction, a sensitive one, is required in answering your question about your marriage outside the Catholic Church, that distinction involving the status of BOTH civil and sacramental marriages. A marriage always "counts" as it is a natural bond fashioned by God, a bond of love that allows us to both see and reflect more beautifully how much and how well God loves each and everyone of us - Saint Paul says that marriage "mirrors," reflects divine love! So your marriage counts!! Alleluia!! However, something more needs to be part of your marriage in a specifically Catholic way and that is the sacramental form/understanding of marriage that would occur by having your marriage blessed in the church - this would normally occur on your way back into the church as an active and practicing Catholic who wishes to receive all the sacraments - it is called a "validation" formally and is actually quite simple to do and there are a variety of formats it can take depending on the willingness of your spouse to participate minimally - this assumes that this was indeed and is a first marriage for both of you - if for any reason it is a second/subsequent marriage for either of you there may be need for some additional church administrative process, but that would only be able to be determined through a conversation that detailed your marital history(ies) somewhat, but not overly difficult. Hopefully this answers your question as much as needed - would certainly enjoy meeting you at Mass someday soon! In God's love, Father Rick"

I actually had tears in my eyes!! The wave of relief that came over me was incredible. That was yesterday and I am still over the moon happy. I look forward to talking with him about how we can have our marriage blessed in the church.

The next question will be much more difficult to ask. I do not want to ask it in person, at least not at this point, because I know I would be too emotional.

For now, I want to relish the joy in my heart that has not been there in so long it feels like a stranger.

Until next time...

Step By Step

This past Sunday I knew I wanted to go to church again. The boys were beyond overtired from a busy weekend and so I went by myself. I arrived and the parking lot was much more full than last weekend. As I got out of the car I thought, "I am not sure I feel comfortable going."

The church bells rang and I walked into the building. A feeling of apprehension was rising in me. I wanted to turn around and leave, but I couldn't because I was in a line of people ascending the stairs to the mass. I kept going.

I walked in and it struck me how the sunlight was shinning in through the stained glass windows. All the colors glowed in the church.

Beautiful.

Everyone was squeezing into the pews to make more room as people continued to crowd in. I have never seen a church so full, although this one is on the smaller side. I looked around a little more than I had the week before to see if there was a crying room. Nothing. My mind flashed to my two year old who is at the age of pointing at everything, asking about it, then followed by "why mama?" The back two rows were filled with parents and their little ones of all ages--even a tiny baby girl that couldn't be more than a week old!

I was feeling unprepared for mass. I figured so many people here there must be something special about today's service with the size of the crowd. I knew I would soon find out.

Mass flowed in the same fashion as last week. Again, I was in a subtle state of awe as the readings from the Bible were read. It seemed like the readings applied to how I was feeling. It is quite a strange feeling for me. I remember growing up in that Catholic school and feeling like I had absolutely no idea what the readings meant. It seems the past two weeks I have been able to grasp and understand them on some level. It's a new experience for me.

I try to keep my heart and mind open as I am exploring my faith and understanding of religion. I want so much to understand what is 'out there'. To have something tangible to hold on to--if that makes any sense at all. There are so many more questions I have though that I need answers to first.

For example, my husband and I were not married in a Catholic church. Does that mean that the Catholic church will not recognize us as being married? We were wed by a nondenominational minister. I do not know that I would be able to accept our marriage not being recognized in the Catholic church. Honestly, it would break my heart. I am so proud of our marriage, what we have accomplished, and the family we have grown. They are my reason for living. I would feel invalidated if all of that was not acknowledged by the church. I know we may need to do something special--confirm our vows in a formal way or something. I can handle that. This is an emotional point for me as you can tell. And maybe I am worrying for nothing.

I know I need to see if I can make an appointment with Father Rick. Such a gigantic step for me. It's nerve racking.

So....mass proceeded in the same way as last Sunday. Not a single person glared at the parents of children fussing, crying, or anything else of the sort. Inside I felt tremendous relief again.

It warmed my heart to see Father high-fiving the kids as he walked out...stopping for every single little outstretched hand. You can see in the faces of those kids it makes their day. When I was going to school....the priests were 'untouchable.' You always left a certain amount of space between you and them and you certainly wouldn't approach to high-five them. That would have been frowned upon I am quite sure.

So far, I would have to say that this church is feeling like a good fit. I am so hopeful that the feeling not only continues but grows.

Faith

The reality of losing a dear friend has brought my own mortality into the spot light. Kim never went to church or practiced any type of religion. She was baptized. Among many of the conversations I had with Kim, I asked her if she believed in God. She did. A priest came to see her regularly and talk with her. She believed her dad was in heaven waiting for her and that she would see him again. I believed her.

Faith. It is a word that has such enormous meaning. To believe something without proof. Stop and think about it for a minute....do you have faith that there is more to our existence than what we know? That there is more out there?

I grew up going to a Catholic school for 9 years (kindergarten through 8th grade). I always felt like a misfit. Our family wasn't truly poor, but being the third child in the family meant I wore almost entirely hand me downs. It was a rare treat that I got a new article of clothing. My brand new shoes always seemed to clash with my clothes. I didn't get the Oreo cookies in my lunch, I got the store brand version. I didn't get juice boxes. I got a thermos full of Kool Aid. The children to rather wealthy parents, as most of them were, always reminded me that I was some how not good enough. I can remember begging my mom to put me in a different school. She didn't. For a long time, I had associated religious people as being cruel and deceptive to those less fortunate and treating them as not worthy. I never wanted to feel that way again.

I also remember so many things that happened over those 9 years that turned me away from religion, not spirituality mind you. Here are some of the bigger ones that I have struggled with over the years.

I remember being told that if you did not confess all of your sins, you would not go to heaven. I asked a teacher, 'what if I die and I have not had the chance to confess all my sins?' She looked at me and simply said, 'you need to confess your sins to a priest.' Being sorry in my heart was not good enough. I remember feeling so completely unworthy. I strove for awhile to not sin and be a good Catholic girl. I always failed.

Another thing that was pounded into us was that if you were not a Catholic, you would not go to heaven. I could not reconcile this in my mind. All over town, there were places of worship that were not Catholic. Their parishioners seemed to be good, honest people. Why would they not go to heaven? I had friends who were not Catholic and at that age, I thought, well if they are not going to heaven, I do not want to go to heaven! Why are they not good enough? How could I be good enough even being Catholic??! I also was smart enough to know that many many people in the world were not Catholic. What would happen to them all? It made me incredibly sad.

Finally, we were taught that we should go to church every Sunday and fancy attire was required: patten leather shoes, nylons, dresses, etc. First of all, my parents did not take us to church. They had for a period of time, but then stopped. Not to mention, my hand me downs would certainly not be adequate for church.

Suffice it to say that my experiences were negative. That is all I remembered. The day I graduated 8th grade, I felt completely liberated. On to public high school. I left a class size of about 50 students for a building that housed almost 3,000 students. It was my dream come true. I could fade into the background and no one would notice my hand me down clothes, my lunches, no one would know I did not go to church every week.

Freshman year I met Kim in health class. We were friends for some 17 years after that day. To know that I will see her again is comforting. But...it brings me back to the word faith. I have absolutely no physical proof that this will happen. Yet I have no doubt that it will.

I have started looking back on the years since leaving that grade school which was a daily torture routine for me. Going to Mass has only happened on special occasions since I left that school--weddings, baptisms, etc. Rarely would I end up at a typical Sunday service. Strange thing is, every time I would go, I would tear up. I was embarrassed primarily because I did not even understand why I would be emotional about something like this. It has been easier to avoid facing some of these issues, practice my own spirituality in the quiet and safety of my own home.

Up until now, I have used the negative experiences as reasons. Now they are excuses.

I have made the decision that if I have faith in something as monumental as heaven, I would like to learn more about it. That maybe, as an adult, I need to go back and look at religion again to help me understand what **this** existence is. Maybe I will find answers that make sense to me in the Catholic religion. Maybe I will not. And if I do not, I will keep looking for a framework to understand my spirituality and my faith. I now know that being spiritual is not enough for me anymore. I want to know the whys and not only accept that heaven 'is'.

I am not sure this post makes the most sense. It feels rather disjointed. Probably fitting, however, as I feel disjointed. My goal is not to convince anyone of anything. I want to share this journey.

I took what I consider the first step today and went to a local Catholic Church for service. It was comforting. I want to take this one step at a time. One foot in front of the other. I have faith that I will find the answers I am looking for if I am patient.

Time Heals Nothing

My intention was to blog about Sam......I have not.

I thought that after Kim died I would be able to go on with life. Think about her often of course, miss her, but move on. I have not.

And to be honest, I don't understand my own grief. I objectively in my head know she is in heaven. Free of cancer. Free of pain and agony. I know I will see her again. I know she is always in my heart. I know I will always miss her.

But time has not changed much since she died. I cry when I would not normally cry. I am having a hard time getting geared up for Christmas. It just doesn't feel the same. I am excited about seeing my kids on Christmas morning after Santa has come. I know I am blessed to have my family, my home, my life.

And yet it just isn't the same.

I truly don't know what to do to move forward in the healing process. She was my friend for so many years....since high school. So about 17 years. We had many years in there we had drifted apart because we were at completely different points in our lives, but we still could come back together like we had not missed a beat. Friendships like that are so rare.

I am trying to make new friends. Reach out. And I know it will take time to develop those friendships, create memories, bonds...thing is...now is when I feel like I have the least amount of emotional energy to give to emotional ties and relationships. I want to curl inside myself and hide from the world. Be numb and not have to feel. It's not an option though.

When I look at the faces of my children, and they make me laugh or some how remind me that I am important in this world, I am ok with not hiding. Maybe just staying in my own little bubble with them and my husband.

And Sam...I am still supporting him through his healing process. To sit and write about it like I was hoping to do is too much for me right now. He is doing wonderfully. I am excited and so very happy for him that he is finally free of so much anger and hurt he didn't even realize he was carrying. The change in him is unmistakable.

The next step for me....I have no idea. I was thinking about going to one of the places her ashes were spread...or to a park where she loved to go. Sit. Listen. Pray.

My heart is sad. Missing my friend.

Sam

For a little over a year now I have posted about Kim. I developed a small following of people who read what I write. I appreciate that. It is extremely helpful to me to be able to get it all out. Maybe you will join me on this next journey with someone I will call Sam.

I have known Sam for a long time. We have been close since we were little. I have maintained contact with him over the years. It just so happened that we were both online the other night and he said he wanted to know if I could talk. I knew immediately something had happened. I had no idea what.

It was time to be getting the kids ready for bed, but I told my husband I needed to make a phone call. He said that was fine. I dialed Sam's number quickly. He answered immediately. I asked him, 'So what's up?' The line was quite. I thought maybe I had accidentally hung up on him. I had no idea what he was going to say.

He began to ask me if I remembered certain people while growing up. I said yes. He then told me that someone in our past was responsible for sexually assaulting him as a young teenager.

I was devastated. Absolutely devastated.

Tons of emotions that had long since been sleeping erupted from me. I kept them in check as I knew this would not help Sam. He said he I was the fourth person he told and he wanted to tell me because he knew I had been through a similar situation. I was grateful he told me. Dealing with the emotional weight of something like this alone is impossible. Period.

"Sam...it was NOT your fault. In no way shape or form. I am here for you...anytime you need me. If it's 2am, call. I don't care. If you need me, you call." He tried interrupting a couple of times and I cut him short telling him I just wanted him to hear what I was saying.

We talked for almost two hours...about how he is angry. He knows it isn't his fault. He is struggling with the anger. Lots of it. He is going to go to counseling and for that I am grateful. He even found one that specializes in helping victims of sexual assault. I pray this is something that will benefit him and that he connects with the therapist right away. Anyone who has had to deal with this type of event in their own life knows that trust is not a given and lost rather easily.

As much as I am wanting and willing to be there for Sam, it does bring up my own personal history and stirs up emotions. I remember when I tried to think about what I wanted to do for a living and so many people said I should be on a crisis team for victims of sexual assault. No way. Couldn't do it. To live that every day would be impossible for me on so many levels.

We ended our phone call and I know he will be ok. There is no doubt he is on a long journey and I hope I can be the kind of friend he needs along the way.

Till next time.....

Still

It has been two weeks now since Kim passed away. I still have her number in my cell phone. I still have some emails she sent me. I still have some text messages on my phone. I also still have the two dollars she gave me for the ice cream cone on her birthday..even some of the receipts from going to get her black cherry smoothies. I don't know why I still have them and I don't know when I will be ok with letting them go.

I did open the letter she wrote to me. She said she was proud of me for the person I have become, in particular, a mama. She could tell I love my boys and that it has brought out the best in me. Such an amazing compliment from someone who had known me so long.

I remember before she died I told her to visit me in my dreams. Maybe it is just me imagining or creating her memory, but I have seen her in my dreams a few times. It is comforting. She is healthy, talking and looking like she did before cancer, but most of all...happy.

I am glad I decided to memorialize her life and what she taught me on my own body. A tattoo that is so much more than just a tattoo. It symbolizes friendship (with all of those I love), faith, embracing change, sorrow, life, truth, trust, and hope. I always want to be reminded of these things. I am so grateful that she was able to see it before she passed.

Life goes on....but it does not mean I will forget her. I can not wait to see her in heaven.

See You Later

I got up this morning and thought, 'this is going to be a hell of a long day.'  I got ready for work, and it was far busier than normal for a Wednesday.  I was grateful. 

The thing that surprised me was that even when I allowed my thoughts to go to the fact that Kim's funeral was today, I didn't feel the need to cry.  I actually felt relief....that her suffering and pain was over...that she is in heaven.  I could have almost smiled.  I know that may sound so very wrong, but watching her suffer and knowing that she is finally free from a body that betrayed her is cause for a smile. 

The closer it came to the end of my work day, the more anxious I was getting and the more I just wanted to leave.  Finally, by 5pm, I grabbed my purse and coffee mug and headed out the door.  Not a single cloud in this immense blue sky above me and the sun was so bright.  The temperature was a bit warmer than normal.

Beautiful day to honor a beautiful friend.  I bet you she had something to do with it.

When I arrived home, my husband and kids were eating sub sandwiches.  Mine was wrapped up on the counter.  I told my husband that I would eat later.  The thought of having to sit still and actually eat was not possible.  I busied myself with getting ready far more than was necessary.  Soon enough it was time to leave.

My husband and I rode in the car to the funeral home making small talk.  I still did not feel the urge to cry, but it was not far off.  I could tell.

We pulled into the parking lot and a thought crossed my mind.  Several months ago Kim told me I would get a letter after she died.  I had no idea how or when I would get it.  I supposed tonight would be as likely as any to get it.  Then again, her family is going to busy with so many other things.  I began to think...should I give them my address??  Her older brother has my phone number.  What to do...?

I got out of the car and my husband held my hand as we walked in.  As soon as we walked through the entrance and turned to the right, there were Kim's daughters.  The were clamoring onto their Dad.  He quickly ushered them out the door we had just come in.  The tears welled up in my eyes and a few escaped.  I walked up to the guest book and signed it, then made an offering for her funeral expenses.  I remember her mom saying she would have to take out a loan to pay for the expenses.  How cruel....every month for however long making a payment knowing it was to bury one of your children.  I wish I had the money to pay for the entire thing. I would give it to the funeral home and not even let them tell her where the money came from.  Some things in this world are just NOT right.

I moved on to the picture boards.  They told about her life...daughter, mother, friend. I had to laugh at a few.  Then, on the last board, one picture jumped out at me.  It was Kim dancing with her dad on her wedding day.  They were both smiling at eachother and the bond they shared was obvious.  I thought, Kim...you are dancing in heaven with your dad, aren't you.'  I smiled and cried. 

We made it down to her mom and two brothers.  I shook both of the boys hands and gave her mom a hug.  She looked exhausted and numb.  I introduced my husband and we offered condolences.  Her younger brother looked at me and said, 'I have a letter for you, but I am pretty sure you knew that.'  My heart lept.  'I can get it for you now if you like,' he said.  'No no.  That's fine.  I can wait.  Whenever it is convenient for you.'  I wanted to say more, but there was a long line of people behind us.  I walked past a few gorgeous flower arrangements...lilies of all kinds which were her favorite. 

Then there was Kim.  Resting peacefully.  It always strikes me how anyone so full of life can suddenly be so still.  Her nails still perfectly manicured.  She had on a purple sweater and black pants.  I know she had picked those out.  Hot salty tears were plentiful now.

I did not have anything I felt I needed to say.  I had said that on Friday.  My only thought was, 'See you later.'  I do not believe in goodbyes.  I know I will see her later.  My faith has taught me that.

We walked to the back and I sat down.  I watched people continue to arrive and pay their respects.  I did not feel like talking.  I sat quietly and waited for the service to begin. My husband, Jason, held my hand and sat quietly.  The staff members of the funeral home handed out the programs for the service.  On the cover the words 'Faith, Hope, Love' were printed.  I looked down at my purse, the same words scrawled across the sides.  I held the program in my hand and couldn't open it.  Suffice it to say that the rest of the service I had periods where I could not fight the tears but did manage to maintain composure.

I finally opened the program and the first song was one of my absolute favorites.  I knew there was no way I could sing that song.  I closed the program and tried to catch my breath.  Slow deep breaths. 

The pastor began the service and I listened to all the readings and such.  He then started talking about the time he spent with Kim and her faith.  He said he went to see her on her birthday.  Her room was decorated with cards, balloons, flowers, etc and was fit for a party.  There was only one thing missing....Kim!  I had to chuckle a little.  I was the one that had taken her out that day.  No one else had.  Here I am at one of my best friends funerals and I find out this!  I smiled.

The service finished and we were told that we would pass by Kim before we left the service.  Another wave of tears came over me.  Jason took my hand and we got into line.  One more time we walked by the picture boards.  I looked at the wedding picture again where she was dancing with her dad and smiled.  We got to Kim, I said in my heart, 'I love you...and I will see you later.' 

We walked into the foyer area and there was Drew, her ex husband, but very close friend.  I gave him a hug and asked how the girls were doing.  He said that they were actually doing okay.  They had private family time prior to friends and such being allowed to come.  They stayed for a short while and then were taken home.  I said to him, 'If you ever need anything for the girls, please let me know.  A lot of people may say that, but truly, anything at all..don't hesitate to let me know.'  He thanked Jason and me.

We then walked out of the foyer over to where they were serving refreshments.  I looked for her younger brother and he was talking with a small group of people. I told Jason that I wanted to get the letter and then we could head out.  We stood close by and a few minutes later, I saw him pull out a handful of envelopes.  He handed them to some of the people standing around him.  He saw me and began fingering through them.  He then pulled out one with my name on it.  Again, I had to chuckle.  She couldn't seem to remember what my married name was so she always called me by my maiden name. I had teased her about that a couple of times good heartedly. And I suppose to be fair, I could never say her married name right either. On the envelope she had tried to spell my married name, but put my maiden name in parentheses too.  My phone number was below my name. 

I gave him a hug and told him to keep in touch.  I then said goodbye.  As I was leaving I saw her older brother.  This time, he gave me a hug.  I asked him to keep in touch too.  Without Kim, I suppose there isn't much reason to talk, but I so adore her family.  I hope on some level we can keep in contact.

I was still holding the letter like a piece of fine China.  We got to the truck and I put it on my lap.  I said to Jason, 'I can't read this tonight.  Not yet.'  I slipped it into my purse.  I do not know when I will read it.  I only know that it is not right now.  Some day......

Home

I knew I was going to see Kim again.  I decided on Friday that I would go after work.  Knowing this early in the day made me want to be at work less and less.  I made it through the day and headed home. 

I tried to prepare myself for the worst...her not recognizing me.  I changed clothes and jumped in the car.  The drive there went too fast and yet it took forever.  I was trying to come up with something to say that would allow me to bow out of the room without upsetting her or letting her see that I was upset if need be.  Nothing good came to mind.

I walked into the building and signed in on the guest board like I had done so many times. 

4:55pm

The nurse sitting at the desk smiled at me.  I had seen her many times before when I came to visit.  I asked her "How is she doing today?"

She did not sugar coat it one bit.  "She is unresponsive.  We think she is in her last 72 hours."

It hit me like a stun gun.  I did not even have time to think about crying...the tears started flowing.  I quickly grabbed some tissues and turned to walk to her room.  No worries about her remembering me anymore.  She wouldn't even be able to acknowledge me.  I almost felt like I was suffocating.  It's not like I didn't know this day would come.  I just didn't know it would be today.  You always think you have one more day, one more hour, one more moment......

I rounded the corner...walking down the hall to her room....last one on the right.  Room 8.  I was wiping away the tears as I walked.  I got to her door and kept walking.  I knew if I stopped,  I would never keep going. 

I entered quietly.  I saw the vases of flowers from her birthday still full of color and life.   Then I saw Kim...barely hanging on.  She was curled up in a semi fetal position...eyes almost all the way closed.  Her breathing was shallow and quick.  I pulled a chair next to her bed and held her hand.

It was warm, tiny, and I could feel her pulse.  Nails still perfect.  Her pajams barely hung on to what was left of her now tiny frame.  I said her name and she didn't respond.  I cried...for awhile.  Held her hand....and cried some more.  I was grateful to be alone with her.  I knew this would be the last time I would hold her hand. 

"I love you Kim.  I will never forget you. It's ok....you can let go now.  You made it through the girls' birthdays.  You can go now."  I cried....and cried.

Someone walked into the room.  I didn't recognize her.

'Oh my gosh. I am sorry.' She said.
'No, No! It's fine.  I am just visiting.'  I said.

Kim's exhusband, Drew, walked in behind her.  He said hello.  'Did you want to be alone?' He asked.
'No...it's fine.' I replied.  I stood up from the chair to let one of them sit.

The girl told me that Kim was talking the night before.  I asked if the girls had been up to see Kim.  Drew said that he was not letting them come up anymore.  I decided to go for a walk. I called my mom and told her what was happening.  She knew Kim from when we were friends in highschool.  She cried too.  I hung up the phone and waited a bit.  I then turned and walked back in.  The girl that had come in earlier was leaving.  Drew was sitting and holidng Kim's hand.

He looked up at me, 'I can move if you want me too.'
'No....that's fine.' I said the word 'fine' several times....but nothing was.  Everything was wrong.  I started to cry.  I told him I should get going. 

'Do you need a minute alone?' he asked.
I couldn't answer right away. I felt selfish for asking for any of these last hours. 'If you wouldn't mind.'
'Absolutely.'  He stood up, touched my shoulder and walked out closing the door behind him. 

I sat down again and held her hand.  I tried catching my breath and to steady my voice.  They say that the last of the senses to go is hearing.  I wanted her to hear me... "You will have your angel wings soon and I know they will be beautiful.  I will miss you.  You will be with your dad soon.  I am sure he is waiting. I love you Kim.'  She moaned a little bit.  I like to think she may have been trying to say something.  I stroked her cheek, gave her a kiss. 

'I love you Kim.' I turned and left.  I opened the door, Drew again touched my shoulder in comfort.  The huge lump in my throat prevented me from saying anything so I nodded and kept walking.  I made it to the front desk where the nurse looked at me with a knowing glance and wrote down my sign out time.

5:55pm

I got in my car and went home knowing this was the last time I would drive down that winding road away from the hospice home. 

When I returned back home, my boys were waiting for me...oblivious to what had happened.  I carried on with my normal mom duties and tried to hide my sorrow.  I sent a text message to Kim's brother and asked if he would let me know when she passed.  He said he would.

I woke up the next morning and started making breakfast.  It was about 9:30am.  I wondered when the call or text message would come. 

It came about an hour and fifteen minutes later.  Her brother sent me a text message and shortly after Drew called me.  He was letting me know that she had passed.  I told him to please let me know if there was anything at all that I could do.  He said he would.  'The next conversation is going to be the hard one.  I have to tell the girls.'  I couldn't speak.  I looked at my boys sitting and eating the last of their breakfast.  I mumbled something, I can't remember what, and then said 'Thanks Drew.  Take care.' and I hung up the phone.

Approximately 10:45am on Saturday October 1st Kim finally got her wings and she flew home.  Away from pain, agony, sadness, and loss.  As happy as I am that she doesn't have to suffer anymore, I am still sad that she is not here anymore to share in this journey we call life.

I have no doubt at all that I will see her again.  I hope that she is one of the first people I see in heaven.  I hope she keeps an eye on me down here and gently guides me in the right direction. 

Her funeral services are Wednesday. 

I Do Not Know You

I texted Kim's brother today to ask how things with Kim are progressing.  He said that Kim is starting to not recognize people. 

All that runs through my mind is that I hope she does not know she is forgetting people.  That she doesn't feel lonely.  To die believing that you are alone...having strange people coming to you saying they know you and you are convinced you don't.  Lord have mercy.

I am struggling with deciding if I will go to see her again.  In my heart, I know I want to go.  I would go every day if it was feasible.  Then my thoughts go to....what would I say or do if she looked at me and did not know me?  Would she scream at me?  Would I be able to convince her that she does know me?  I do not think it would be fair to break down in front of her if she does not.  So...then do I leave the room and not go back if she doesn't?

Is there an etiquette book for "What to Do If Your Friend of Over 18 Years is Dying of Cancer and Does Not Remember You: Handling It With Grace."

I remember 15 years ago when I left for college we split one of those necklaces that says 'Best Friends Forever'.  Each half is a heart.  I still have mine.  I could not have imagined at the time what that would come to mean in our friendship so many years later.

**sigh**

I am sure I will go to see her before the end of the week...

One More Birthday

Thursday I got done with my work early, so I asked my boss if I could leave early to go and spend time with Kim.  She said yes.  I quickly shut down my computer and headed out the door.

The wind was cool and it was cloudy out.  I could feel the tears already wanting to surface.  I got to my car and sat down inside...took a deep breath and started the car.  I had to make it through the grocery store at least without crying to pick up some flowers. 

I went straight to the floral department and began looking.  None of them seemed just right, but I settled on some fall colored flowers--two bunches--a green vase and a small happy birthday balloon.  I went to check out and headed home to change clothes.  I sent Kim a text message, knowing she wouldn't respond, that I would be there soon.

I came into the house and changed.  I re-read my last post and decided to print it off.  I knew it would be hard to read it to her, but I knew I wanted to try.  I grabbed it off the printer and headed out the door.

When I got to the hospice home, I signed in and again I could feel the tears just beneath the surface.  I quickly scanned the guest sign in log to see if there was anyone else who might be in her room.  There was one name with a sign in time of about 10am.  I figured they had forgot to sign out. 

I headed towards her room.  I turned the corner and down the hall I could already see her doorway was decorated with "Happy Birthday" decor.  As I approached her room, I could not hear any noises.  I walked into the door way and noticed no one was sitting in the room.  A few steps further and I could see Kim laying in bed dozing.  I glanced around the room and there were approximately 6 vases of all different types of flowers.  Cards were scattered amongst them. 

I set to work getting the flowers I had bought her in the vase with some water and was thinking about where to put them.  Kim's eyes opened and she looked at me.  I said, 'Happy Birthday honey' in a soft tone.  I don't think she immediately recognized me.  She had a sponge swab in her mouth.  She pulled it out and said 'Thanks.'  She dipped the sponge in the cup of water by her bed and began sucking on it.

I asked, 'Have you had alot of visitors?'
She said, 'yep.'
'Did your girls come by yet?'
'No...not yet.  I have to call and find out when they are coming. But my phone is a piece of shit and I haven't been able to get it to work right.'

I finished getting the flowers in the vase and decided on a spot by the window.  It was so hard to hear her as she was talking that I asked if I could sit on her bed by her.  She said yes.

'I can't get out of bed anymore by myself.  I have that monitor on again.  (the bed alarm).  I fell yesterday.  I was stuck on the floor because I couldn't reach the button for help.  So....I laid there and had to call out for help until someone heard me.  When they came to pick me up...the way they were doing it...it hurt me. I hurt everywhere.  I don't think they believe me because they can't see anything wrong.'

As you read that, rather quickly I am sure, imagine it taking you about 10 minutes to say that...in between swabbing your mouth with a sponge because your mouth is so dry your tounge sticks to the roof of your mouth....and not being able to speak very loudly and having to repeat parts of it. 

'Are you eating or drinking anything anymore?' I asked.
'No.' She said.

I knew this was not a good sign.  'Do you want to go and sit outside?  It isn't too cool out.'

She asked, 'Can we go for a ride?  I really want a cigarette.' 

'Sure.'  I said.  She asked the nurse to come in and disconnect her from her IV pump which continuously gives her pain medication.  The nurse then helped her get into her wheel chair.  As the nurse helped her, it dawned on me that Kim's pj pants were barely hanging on to her waist.  If her belly wasn't bloated from cancer, they probably would have fallen off. 

It is hard to type out how disjointed her conversation with me was.  She was having a hard time finishing thoughts and would have to restart her sentences several times....and sometimes not finishing them at all.  I would gently try to help her finish her thoughts.  The nurse and I helped her to finish up little things she wanted done before leaving the room like emptying out and throwing away her water cup, putting the bottled water back in her fridge, turning off the lights.  She had not done this before when we would leave.  I suspect it is her attempt to maintain control over anything she can and I am fine with that.  As far as I was concerned, I was at her beckon call.

I pulled the car up to the front door as close as I could and the nurse and I got her in the car.  We started on our trip.  I asked her if there was anywhere she wanted to go or anything she wanted to see.  She asked, 'Like what?'  I said, 'do you want to stop anywhere for anything special to drink, eat, anything like that?  Ice cream again?'.

'Yes....ice cream...that twist kind.'  She said.  I replied, 'I know where we can go.'

As we were driving and she started talking, it was almost impossible to keep up any sort of a conversation.  She was easily confused as to where we were going, what she was trying to say, or where we even were.  When we got to the drive thru to order ice cream, I ordered her ice cream first, then I ordered something for myself.  She began trying to shout, 'That's not right!  What are you doing?!'.  I explained in a soft tone, 'Kim, I already ordered yours.' 

'That's not what I want though!  I want twist.' She was upset.

'Kim...that was the first thing I ordered.  It is ok.' I said again trying to reassure her.

'Whatever...I am so fucked up.'  and she resigned herself and leaned back.

We finished in the drive thru and pulled over in the parking lot.  Two men driving Harley Davidson Motorcycles drove by and she waved.  She took a few licks off of her cone and said, 'I can't do anymore with this.'  I was glad I had asked for an empty dish...I knew she would not be able to finish it.

There was an extra spoon in the dish and as she tried to dump the cone over into the dish, she tried to get the spoon through the middle of the cone.  I wasn't sure what she was doing, so I said, 'Kim...what are you trying to do?'  She said, 'Well, isn't that what it is there for?  I am trying to get it on there.'  I said, 'Kim, that's a spoon.'  I moved it out of the dish and guided her hand to set the cone down.  She was obviously confused. 

The rest of the drive, this is how things went...not making sense and I got to the point where it was easier to not disagree or try to correct at all.  I would go along with what she was saying or doing to try to keep her from getting upset. 

It was hell.

Seeing her fall apart and loose herself slowly is one of the most heart wrenching things to see.  I remember months ago when I asked Kim to let me know when she thought it would be our last visit together.  What a ridiculous thing for me to ask of her.  Being a nurse myself and having seen people die, I should have known better.  I found myself getting angry again.  Movies romanticise death so much that when people don't have actors and music playing in the background as someone fades away, the contrast is shocking. 

After ice cream, I drove her around some more so she could have another cigarette.  She tried dialing her cell phone and was getting upset and started swearing.  I asked her to give it to me so I could see if I could get it to work.  I did without a problem.  She asked me to show her how I made it work, so I did.  She could not do the 3-4 steps and gave up.  It was too monumental of a task for her to do anymore. 

We were almost back to the hospice home and asked her gently, but directly, 'Kim...are you ready to die?'.  Without hesitation, she said 'No.  I made it through one of my daughter's birthdays, and I am going to make it through the other's.'  Her eldest daughters birthday is today, Saturday.  'I don't want to die on her birthday.  It is her day.  I don't want to ruin that.  Some people know when they are going to die.  I don't.  Maybe I will.  I don't know.'

One more birthday. As of today, she will have made it through one more set of birthdays.  I wonder now how long she will fight.

We arrived back at the hospice home and we got her back to her room.  I helped to get her into the bathroom and she insisted I not stay in the bathroom with her while she did her business.  I told her fine, but that as soon as she was done, she had to call me so I could get in there to help her.  She agreed.  I thought to myself, I will read her what I wrote as soon as she gets situated in bed again.  Just then, her older brother walked in.  Damn.

Kim called me back into the bathroom and I helped her back into bed.  Her older brother helped as well.  She asked me to do several things for her.  I more than happily obliged.  Get her a new water cup and put some cold water in it.  Put her phone in the right spot.  Help her get covered with her blankets, but move her legs for her first because it is hard for her to do it under the weight of three blankets.  Set her chap stick next to her magazines.  She looked at me and said, ' I am sorry for asking you to do all of this stuff.' 

I stopped and looked at her and said, 'there is NOTHING else I would rather be doing.'  Once everything was in its place, I sat down.  Her brother already knew better than to try and engage in long conversation.  I had been there a little over two hours and I knew more visitors were coming. 

'I have to get going sweetie.  And I want you to have a little rest time before your girls get here.'  Truthfully, it is more than I can handle to watch her girls be there with their dying mother.  Maybe that makes me weak.  Regardless, sitting there and crying while they visit is not okay. 

'Okay.  Thanks for coming.'  I stood up, hugged her fragile, failing body and kissed her fore head.

'Love  you.  Happy Birthday.'  A few tears found their way down my cheek.

'Love you too.' she said.

As I turned to leave, her brother stood up and told Kim he would be right back because he wanted to go and have a cigarette.  We walked down the hall and didn't say anything.  I signed out at the front desk and the nurse looked at me with eyes that told me so much even though she said nothing. 

The wind was cold and I didn't have a jacket.  I didn't mind.  It felt good. 

Her brother and I talked for a little bit. I asked if their mom had been out yet.  He told me she had been and that Kim spent most of the time yelling at her about something so she had to leave.  Kim called her mom about an hour after she had left and asked when she was coming to visit. 

I told him what she had said about not wanting to die on Saturday because of it being one of her daughter's birthdays.  We both agree that this is probably the last thing she is waiting for.

'I want her to let go.  It's not that I don't want her here, but I don't want her suffering anymore.'  The tears I had managed to keep back for hours finally broke free.  Neither one of us said much more after that. 

I got into my car and began to drive home. 

Anytime after I see her, I am utterly exhausted.  I do not physically do much when I am with her, but the emotional energy is incredible.  I do not mean that to sound negative in any way.  This is a unique experience for me...thank goodness...and I sometimes wonder if others have felt the same way. 

She is a shadow of who she once was.  I want to try one more time to see her, but every time I leave her, I wonder if it was my last.