There were a couple things that happened in my life today that made me really rethink my heart, compassion fatigue, and my concern for people in general. As foster parents, I believe it is important for us to stop and check our hearts for too much hardening. It's easy to get jaded or start looking out for #1 (our own personal interests) more than the interests of the creator and those may not always be the same thing. I don't want to be jaded. I want to continue to show compassion to the people in my life, all of them, as much as possible.
There was a death in my family yesterday. I was only mildly sad, in part because I knew it was coming, in part because I was hoping it brought relief to my relative and my relative's caregivers, and in part because I didn't know this particular relative well at all. Not knowing a relative well (or at least decently well) is somewhat foreign in my very large but relatively close-knit family, but this particular relative is one of 2-3 that I could identify that I never really knew. So generally I'm not sad, not like I was when my uncle was murdered a few years ago or how I would be if anyone else in my family passed away. I am, however, sad that I'm not sad. Does that make sense? I wish the situation were different for many reasons, that he had led a life where I would have had a role, that I would have known him more, that my family would have felt supported by me more during this process. That is what I care about at this point, that and how my dad is feeling about this latest death in his family.
There was also interesting things happening in the kids case yesterday. I'm trying to really limit what I put out here about this case even though it is by nature more or less anonymous anyway (which is why you don't see our kid count anymore - it's still here, behind the scenes). There were more missed visits this week, a legal situation during the one visit that did happen which promises to complicate future visits. Oh the mixed feelings. On one hand, I hate that my kids had to experience what they had to experience during their visit - there are certainly worse things that could have happened and generally they were safe but they shouldn't have to experience stuff like that. No kid should. We shouldn't be talking about what worse could have happened you know? I also feel bad for the parent that this situation happened. Sometimes there's just bad luck. Sometimes there's bad luck combined with bad choices. This is one of those cases (so it seems) - if the bad choices weren't there then the bad luck wouldn't be so bad - but still, I do feel bad for the parent and the kids that this is a negative in the situation. At the same time, I'm hopeful that this is what it takes to get the tide turned in favor of the KIDS who need permanency. There were actually several things about the last visit that *should not* look favorable for the parent but it's hard to say how they will actually affect the case. One thing is clear - yet another set of visits was canceled and that could push the people involved to be more supportive of termination and quality permanency. I'm hoping. I feel bad that I'm happy that there was this point of failure for the parent because I genuinely do support reunification and never ever want kids to be separated from their family when they can be reunified safely. I just haven't seen that "reunified safely" thing work in even 10% of my kids lives. 2/24 kids have been reunified "permanently" with the family they were removed from. That's it. Several have happy endings but I just haven't seen it work well very often and the "evidence" in this case is like those that weren't successful, not like those that were.
Our kids decided they wanted to change their names last night. They initiated the conversation (knowing Summer's name was changed when she was adopted - when the judge said she could stay forever). It seemed to be their way of letting us know they want to stay forever, after the crazy of their visit (but we didn't talk about it that way). They were all excited about their new names and then dropped the bomb - they were going to tell their parent about their new names when they saw them next. *Insert screeching car sound here* We put our foot down and had to stop their fun, insisting they be called their actual name not their selected name until the judge tells them they can change their name. On one hand I want them to be able to daydream about whatever they want to daydream about. On the other hand I don't want to be accused of trying to steal these kids or even trying to change their names (that has not, at all, been something my hubby and I have been involved with - we will only even consider that with any reality when everyone in the case is aligned on termination and a trial happens or a voluntary agreement is signed...that's it). I don't want anyone to think we're trying to sabotage the parent's attempts to reunify because we're not. BUT, the kids - what about what they want? When does that count?
So today I'm taking inventory. I don't really have good answers about what I *should* be feeling. There are always mixed emotions in foster care and in life in general. I'm glad I don't have to have all the answers.
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 09, 2013
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Tuesday's Tears: Permanently Changed (RIP)
Last night I went running with a friend. I've been moody thanks to our recent experience with foster care. Hormones hasn't helped, nor has extra regular stress. I thought going for a run would be a good way to shake the blues, burn some stress, give myself a mental break, and get some much-needed exercise.
It was. I spent the whole run listening to a friend, making myself run just one.more.step, and thinking about my blog post today. I was thinking about telling you how life-changing foster care is. Many of us say that though we gripe about foster care and our experiences with the system we wouldn't trade our lives. The kids, the life-lessons, the unshakeable awareness of the world out there that we'd otherwise shield ourselves and our families from are all things that have made us grow as people.
I thought about our recent situation. We gave the county a little bit of time (2 weeks) to have the children moved from our home because we want them to go to a good place that can care for their specific needs, we didn't want to cause any more harm in the process, and we can keep them all safe in our home while a new home is found. We just don't want to take the life-long risk of further damage to our forever kids or living with this type of extensive safety plan if we don't have to, and we don't, and it will be better for them to live somewhere else. The county counter-offered by suggesting only one of the children are moved. This child needs to live in a place where no other children can be harmed. This would include the bio-sibling who lives in our home. So, as of now, the plan is to leave the bio-sibling in our home with us. We'll see how this goes.
What I wanted to tell you though is that it doesn't matter what happens with these children. Our lives are forever changed. Having one child leave changes our family. Having both leave changes our family. Having both stay changes our family. Every time we get a call, then bring a child into our home, then keep them for however long they stay, then participate in their forever plan (leave or stay), our family changes. This isn't always bad but the reality of it is that it cannot be reversed. I have had 21 children (1 bio, 1 adopted). They all have been my children. Knowing that 16 of them have left does not mean they have left our hearts or they are no longer our children. Sure they no longer live with us but they are still ours in our heart. They were still my children's siblings. We have pictures and memories. We were a family with each of them when they were here. They might physically leave when they move away but they never leave our family.
This makes our current situation interesting.
But then...
After my run last night I was cleaning up the house with the local news on in the background when I heard about a police shooting nearby. Unlike most events like this, they actually published the name of the person who had been shot. I heard it. I had to rewind to hear the story again, then again to show my husband.
Our lives are never the same. The children - the families of the children - who come into our lives through foster care are forever part of us.
This person on the news - the deceased person - is my age and I knew her well. She was the mother of one of my foster children. The one I wrote this email to. The one I wrote this about. She was the one who let this happen. I knew her, but of course because of the nature of the relationship (and I'm sure how long ago it was that we last talked), I didn't hear about her death from family or friends but instead on the news.
I'm so sad. The entire situation is sad. There are children who no longer have their mother, a fact being touted by the media and others against the police. The reality is that the kids haven't had their mother in a long-time - it wasn't this incident that took her from them - and yet while she was alive there was still hope that one day they would have some quality relationship with her. Now it's for sure - they won't have a relationship with her. Half of the media/public is condemning the officer involved - something I am vehemently against both in support of the police AND knowing her personally. Half of the media/public is condemning her for being a worthless "P.O.S" (I actually saw that) "druggie" "wanted felon" who deserved to die. Clearly, most of these people didn't know her or her family. They are people hearing a snippit of the situation and making judgments to make themselves feel better. The reality is there are two sets of families grieving - the police officers and hers. And ours, of course, though with the confidential nature of our cases we don't really have a place to grieve.
That, though, is not why I write. Even years after this child left our home, even years after we spoke to her last as she was looking to me as a mentor & friend to help her mother and stay clean before she took off again, we deeply grieve. We grieve her loss. We grieve what could have been for her. We grieve for our lost child whom we loved very, very much. We grieve the special role they asked us to play in his life forever that we were never able to assume after he left to live with relatives far away. We grieve for him, and his sister, who will not grow up knowing quality love from their birth mother. We grieve for our son who to this day asks about him and if he can come to visit - afterall, this woman and her then husband stood in our kitchen and promised him that he would be able to see their son again often.
Our lives will never be the same without him. Or her. Or any one of our other foster children no longer in our home. Or their families. It won't be better or worse. It just won't be the same.
It was. I spent the whole run listening to a friend, making myself run just one.more.step, and thinking about my blog post today. I was thinking about telling you how life-changing foster care is. Many of us say that though we gripe about foster care and our experiences with the system we wouldn't trade our lives. The kids, the life-lessons, the unshakeable awareness of the world out there that we'd otherwise shield ourselves and our families from are all things that have made us grow as people.
I thought about our recent situation. We gave the county a little bit of time (2 weeks) to have the children moved from our home because we want them to go to a good place that can care for their specific needs, we didn't want to cause any more harm in the process, and we can keep them all safe in our home while a new home is found. We just don't want to take the life-long risk of further damage to our forever kids or living with this type of extensive safety plan if we don't have to, and we don't, and it will be better for them to live somewhere else. The county counter-offered by suggesting only one of the children are moved. This child needs to live in a place where no other children can be harmed. This would include the bio-sibling who lives in our home. So, as of now, the plan is to leave the bio-sibling in our home with us. We'll see how this goes.
What I wanted to tell you though is that it doesn't matter what happens with these children. Our lives are forever changed. Having one child leave changes our family. Having both leave changes our family. Having both stay changes our family. Every time we get a call, then bring a child into our home, then keep them for however long they stay, then participate in their forever plan (leave or stay), our family changes. This isn't always bad but the reality of it is that it cannot be reversed. I have had 21 children (1 bio, 1 adopted). They all have been my children. Knowing that 16 of them have left does not mean they have left our hearts or they are no longer our children. Sure they no longer live with us but they are still ours in our heart. They were still my children's siblings. We have pictures and memories. We were a family with each of them when they were here. They might physically leave when they move away but they never leave our family.
This makes our current situation interesting.
But then...
After my run last night I was cleaning up the house with the local news on in the background when I heard about a police shooting nearby. Unlike most events like this, they actually published the name of the person who had been shot. I heard it. I had to rewind to hear the story again, then again to show my husband.
Our lives are never the same. The children - the families of the children - who come into our lives through foster care are forever part of us.
This person on the news - the deceased person - is my age and I knew her well. She was the mother of one of my foster children. The one I wrote this email to. The one I wrote this about. She was the one who let this happen. I knew her, but of course because of the nature of the relationship (and I'm sure how long ago it was that we last talked), I didn't hear about her death from family or friends but instead on the news.
I'm so sad. The entire situation is sad. There are children who no longer have their mother, a fact being touted by the media and others against the police. The reality is that the kids haven't had their mother in a long-time - it wasn't this incident that took her from them - and yet while she was alive there was still hope that one day they would have some quality relationship with her. Now it's for sure - they won't have a relationship with her. Half of the media/public is condemning the officer involved - something I am vehemently against both in support of the police AND knowing her personally. Half of the media/public is condemning her for being a worthless "P.O.S" (I actually saw that) "druggie" "wanted felon" who deserved to die. Clearly, most of these people didn't know her or her family. They are people hearing a snippit of the situation and making judgments to make themselves feel better. The reality is there are two sets of families grieving - the police officers and hers. And ours, of course, though with the confidential nature of our cases we don't really have a place to grieve.
That, though, is not why I write. Even years after this child left our home, even years after we spoke to her last as she was looking to me as a mentor & friend to help her mother and stay clean before she took off again, we deeply grieve. We grieve her loss. We grieve what could have been for her. We grieve for our lost child whom we loved very, very much. We grieve the special role they asked us to play in his life forever that we were never able to assume after he left to live with relatives far away. We grieve for him, and his sister, who will not grow up knowing quality love from their birth mother. We grieve for our son who to this day asks about him and if he can come to visit - afterall, this woman and her then husband stood in our kitchen and promised him that he would be able to see their son again often.
Our lives will never be the same without him. Or her. Or any one of our other foster children no longer in our home. Or their families. It won't be better or worse. It just won't be the same.
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
Tuesday's Tears - Goodbye Uncle Ken
In case you were wondering, our vacation was great! We had a blast at Sea World and managed to not lose any of our 4 children and none of them (nor us) were sunburned by the end of the trip despite the 105 degree weather. It looks like we found somewhere to do mini-vacations for the next year which will put our free vacation passes to good use. We even managed the long car ride down there without any vomiting. YIPEE!
On our way back home we received horrible news. My sister called to tell me that my Uncle Kenny had been murdered. This is one of my parents' nine brothers - the youngest brother on my dad's side. In the beginning, all we knew was that he was murdered on vacation oversees. As the night progressed we quickly learned more. I'm not going to go into the details in part because none of us know exactly how it all happened, but we know enough to know that it wasn't a completely random act of violence. It was a crime of passion. I'd like to think most murders are senseless and unnecesary, but this is certainly one of them.
Our family is devastated to learn of my uncle's death, particularly given the circumstances. It makes it much more difficult in that it happened on the other side of the globe and no one involved is familiar with that country's legal system and furthermore, it's just plain far away. Though the officials have been generous in talking with the family as much as they can, it's still difficult to get the answers the family is looking for if for no other reason than the time difference.
Truthfully, "answers" won't make it better. Maybe it will help fill in some of the details of how this came about for some and for others might bring a sense of closure, but none of it will bring him back. None of those answers will help turn back time and make this all go away. We'll all have to process that over time. Hopefully we can all come to peace somehow with his death and trust that God's justice will be served.
I haven't really been able to process it. I've teared up a bit but I haven't cried. In part because I always have my kids around and though I'm not afraid to cry in front of them I also felt the need to be strong until I had more details. Weird I know. I needed to process how I explain this to them. I didn't want to take away from our good vacation and leave this memory in their hearts - associating Sea World with his death and all. I'll break down soon I'm sure.
One of the things my family is trying to do is honor his memory by living well including making good life choices and moving forward in enjoying life to its fullest. I had planned to take our oldest son Logie to the water park on Friday because he had to put off a lot of "big boy" things because we had the babies at Sea World - we continued with that trip. My nephews birthday was on Friday as well and my parents had planned a big beach trip for them and some other family - they went forward with that celebration. Life needs to be celebrated and though we may need to take time to mourn he would have also wanted people to enjoy their life. I'm confident that he would have wanted us to spend time with our son at the water park that day and that he would have supported my dad taking his grandson to the beach. Our hearts our sad but one of the best ways to honor his memory is to continue to live even though, or especially because, he can't.
Then there are those that are struggling with or recovering from substance abuse. Thankfully, I never walked that path. I've never even tasted alcohol. My Uncle died on his 21st birthday - his sobriety birthday that is. Sobriety is something he and my dad shared. My dad took his 25th cake on Christmas last year. The last communication from my uncle was a post to facebook with his 21st chip - because of the time difference when I woke up he had already had the chance to attend a meeting to take a cake on his birthday. Actually, by the time I woke up he had already died. I mourn the opportunity to have congratulated him for his 21st birthday - but I have to realize that I didn't have the chance. So, in his honor, donations are being made to Alcoholics Anonymous, the organization he supported and supported him in achieving and maintaining sobriety. In his memory - can you take a moment to pray for those who are still suffering with alcoholism or substance abuse?
Social media has been amazing as it was when my dad was injured. Thankfully, the family knew before the word was out on social media, which has been a blessing. We were able to connect and talk and grieve together though many of us are spread apart. We were able to do so in a private forum which is quite important in this type of a situation where we want to be able to be a family and talk as a family without worrying about the media (this is a media heavy story...). We were able to create a memorial site to spread the word to extended family and friend who we wouldn't have otherwise known to contact and, maybe even more importantly we were able to ask them to share their memories and now have quite the collection of stories of people and the ways my uncle touched their lives in a positive way - things we would have never known about. This has really helped in our grief.
We will again be traveling soon to attend a family service out-of-state. I'm grateful I can go. This will be complicated with the less-permanent placement I have but I'll figure it out. It is very important to me that I can go and my family is as together as it can be. There will be a gaping hole, but we will try to honor his life as best we can.
I had the opportunity this weekend to get together with a cousin of mine who is like a brother to me but I haven't seen, that I can remember, since I moved away from my family 7 years ago. It was so good to see him and I'm glad we made it happen and that one of my best friends happily watched my youngest kiddos so we could go catch up late into the night. I'm glad she doesn't hate me that I was really late. I hope we can catch up more when we go to the service and we have more family there. I'm really looking forward to this as it is way overdue. I wish it were under better circumstances.
My request of you all today is to call the folks you love and tell them you love them. When you say goodbye to folks, remember that it very well might be the last time. Don't live in fear - enjoy life - but try to be cognizant of mortality on Earth and the fleeting nature of natural life.
On our way back home we received horrible news. My sister called to tell me that my Uncle Kenny had been murdered. This is one of my parents' nine brothers - the youngest brother on my dad's side. In the beginning, all we knew was that he was murdered on vacation oversees. As the night progressed we quickly learned more. I'm not going to go into the details in part because none of us know exactly how it all happened, but we know enough to know that it wasn't a completely random act of violence. It was a crime of passion. I'd like to think most murders are senseless and unnecesary, but this is certainly one of them.
Our family is devastated to learn of my uncle's death, particularly given the circumstances. It makes it much more difficult in that it happened on the other side of the globe and no one involved is familiar with that country's legal system and furthermore, it's just plain far away. Though the officials have been generous in talking with the family as much as they can, it's still difficult to get the answers the family is looking for if for no other reason than the time difference.
Truthfully, "answers" won't make it better. Maybe it will help fill in some of the details of how this came about for some and for others might bring a sense of closure, but none of it will bring him back. None of those answers will help turn back time and make this all go away. We'll all have to process that over time. Hopefully we can all come to peace somehow with his death and trust that God's justice will be served.
I haven't really been able to process it. I've teared up a bit but I haven't cried. In part because I always have my kids around and though I'm not afraid to cry in front of them I also felt the need to be strong until I had more details. Weird I know. I needed to process how I explain this to them. I didn't want to take away from our good vacation and leave this memory in their hearts - associating Sea World with his death and all. I'll break down soon I'm sure.
One of the things my family is trying to do is honor his memory by living well including making good life choices and moving forward in enjoying life to its fullest. I had planned to take our oldest son Logie to the water park on Friday because he had to put off a lot of "big boy" things because we had the babies at Sea World - we continued with that trip. My nephews birthday was on Friday as well and my parents had planned a big beach trip for them and some other family - they went forward with that celebration. Life needs to be celebrated and though we may need to take time to mourn he would have also wanted people to enjoy their life. I'm confident that he would have wanted us to spend time with our son at the water park that day and that he would have supported my dad taking his grandson to the beach. Our hearts our sad but one of the best ways to honor his memory is to continue to live even though, or especially because, he can't.
Then there are those that are struggling with or recovering from substance abuse. Thankfully, I never walked that path. I've never even tasted alcohol. My Uncle died on his 21st birthday - his sobriety birthday that is. Sobriety is something he and my dad shared. My dad took his 25th cake on Christmas last year. The last communication from my uncle was a post to facebook with his 21st chip - because of the time difference when I woke up he had already had the chance to attend a meeting to take a cake on his birthday. Actually, by the time I woke up he had already died. I mourn the opportunity to have congratulated him for his 21st birthday - but I have to realize that I didn't have the chance. So, in his honor, donations are being made to Alcoholics Anonymous, the organization he supported and supported him in achieving and maintaining sobriety. In his memory - can you take a moment to pray for those who are still suffering with alcoholism or substance abuse?
Social media has been amazing as it was when my dad was injured. Thankfully, the family knew before the word was out on social media, which has been a blessing. We were able to connect and talk and grieve together though many of us are spread apart. We were able to do so in a private forum which is quite important in this type of a situation where we want to be able to be a family and talk as a family without worrying about the media (this is a media heavy story...). We were able to create a memorial site to spread the word to extended family and friend who we wouldn't have otherwise known to contact and, maybe even more importantly we were able to ask them to share their memories and now have quite the collection of stories of people and the ways my uncle touched their lives in a positive way - things we would have never known about. This has really helped in our grief.
We will again be traveling soon to attend a family service out-of-state. I'm grateful I can go. This will be complicated with the less-permanent placement I have but I'll figure it out. It is very important to me that I can go and my family is as together as it can be. There will be a gaping hole, but we will try to honor his life as best we can.
I had the opportunity this weekend to get together with a cousin of mine who is like a brother to me but I haven't seen, that I can remember, since I moved away from my family 7 years ago. It was so good to see him and I'm glad we made it happen and that one of my best friends happily watched my youngest kiddos so we could go catch up late into the night. I'm glad she doesn't hate me that I was really late. I hope we can catch up more when we go to the service and we have more family there. I'm really looking forward to this as it is way overdue. I wish it were under better circumstances.
My request of you all today is to call the folks you love and tell them you love them. When you say goodbye to folks, remember that it very well might be the last time. Don't live in fear - enjoy life - but try to be cognizant of mortality on Earth and the fleeting nature of natural life.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Tuesday's Tears - Things Children Should Never Experience
I was a bit emotional yesterday. Not for bad things, but for all the cute things that I'm blessed with in my life. My kids were remarkably well behaved last night, I made a birthday cake for #7 and the homemade icing - tonight's for decorating - and he was so excited that I was a good cook and was making him a cake (I'm continuously in awe about some of the things that my foster kiddos are impressed with), and then I spent some good reading time with my son who was being as cute as can be.
For example, he said in a cute whiny voice (it was intentional, he doesn't usually whine), that he wanted his cuddle blanky. Then after he went upstairs to get it he said that he liked it because it reminded him of me and when I took care of him when he was a baby. Then a few minutes later he told me that when he's hugging his blanket he's hugging me. I told him he was making my heart melt - later he repeated the conversation back to his dad verbatim on the phone. It was just so sweet. I kept tearing up.
One of the books we read was about patriotism and a little boy's project. But his dad was a soldier and away and wouldn't be coming to the designated time when the project would be seen by parents, so he was flustered. As I do with my son, I talked to him about why the dad couldn't come, and how some of the kids in the world don't get to see their daddies (or mommies) because they are away fighting in the military and won't be back for a long time. I teared up again.
Then afterward as I was waiting for the cupcakes to finish baking (I always make cupcakes with birthday cakes, it's just my thing), we were cleaning up with the news in the background. My son unfortunately caught this story, and really only the part where they said the boy wasn't breathing. He has such a tender heart and since we foster he realizes that sometimes there are kids out there without good parents. But thankfully I don't think he has to think about it every day. When we watched that story though his poor little heart - I could see how sad it made him. He was thinking that the boy was just not breathing and he said that was bad. When I told him the boy had died it was even sadder. When I told him how the news said he died (or what had happened to him at a very high-level), I just wanted to cry. How could anyone do something like that to a child?
My son and I continued to talk about things like that for a few minutes as we cleaned up the house waiting for the cupcakes. I told him how sorry I was that this world had bad guys in it - that should never ever happen - and reminded him how much we love him and wouldn't ever hurt him like that. Then, as sweet as he is, he went on to tell me in his matter-of-fact-yet-tender way that if a boy ever showed up at our door and he wasn't breathing he would find a breathing machine and put the mask on his face (I think he was talking about a nebulizer) and then he would make the boy all better because we love kids (in our family) and take care of them when they need a good home. Because he's a good brother and we're a good mommy and daddy. And because he wants to help take care of people in the world. And then I wanted to cry some more.
For anyone wondering whether fostering will hurt your current children - I'd probably say that though there is obviously a chance (as much as there's a chance for a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc. biological child to "harm" your 1st) - there is equally the opportunity for these very rich life lessons that are so real because we are actually on a daily basis taking care of the orphaned (however temporary). For us, right now, this type of conversation with our son shows me we're doing something right.
For example, he said in a cute whiny voice (it was intentional, he doesn't usually whine), that he wanted his cuddle blanky. Then after he went upstairs to get it he said that he liked it because it reminded him of me and when I took care of him when he was a baby. Then a few minutes later he told me that when he's hugging his blanket he's hugging me. I told him he was making my heart melt - later he repeated the conversation back to his dad verbatim on the phone. It was just so sweet. I kept tearing up.
One of the books we read was about patriotism and a little boy's project. But his dad was a soldier and away and wouldn't be coming to the designated time when the project would be seen by parents, so he was flustered. As I do with my son, I talked to him about why the dad couldn't come, and how some of the kids in the world don't get to see their daddies (or mommies) because they are away fighting in the military and won't be back for a long time. I teared up again.
Then afterward as I was waiting for the cupcakes to finish baking (I always make cupcakes with birthday cakes, it's just my thing), we were cleaning up with the news in the background. My son unfortunately caught this story, and really only the part where they said the boy wasn't breathing. He has such a tender heart and since we foster he realizes that sometimes there are kids out there without good parents. But thankfully I don't think he has to think about it every day. When we watched that story though his poor little heart - I could see how sad it made him. He was thinking that the boy was just not breathing and he said that was bad. When I told him the boy had died it was even sadder. When I told him how the news said he died (or what had happened to him at a very high-level), I just wanted to cry. How could anyone do something like that to a child?
My son and I continued to talk about things like that for a few minutes as we cleaned up the house waiting for the cupcakes. I told him how sorry I was that this world had bad guys in it - that should never ever happen - and reminded him how much we love him and wouldn't ever hurt him like that. Then, as sweet as he is, he went on to tell me in his matter-of-fact-yet-tender way that if a boy ever showed up at our door and he wasn't breathing he would find a breathing machine and put the mask on his face (I think he was talking about a nebulizer) and then he would make the boy all better because we love kids (in our family) and take care of them when they need a good home. Because he's a good brother and we're a good mommy and daddy. And because he wants to help take care of people in the world. And then I wanted to cry some more.
For anyone wondering whether fostering will hurt your current children - I'd probably say that though there is obviously a chance (as much as there's a chance for a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, etc. biological child to "harm" your 1st) - there is equally the opportunity for these very rich life lessons that are so real because we are actually on a daily basis taking care of the orphaned (however temporary). For us, right now, this type of conversation with our son shows me we're doing something right.
Friday, June 03, 2011
One Year Ago Today - Part 7: Another Funeral
This is part 7 of my "One Year Ago Today" series. (click on the link to pull up the series - last post first). I had a severely injured ankle, my best friend and husband's grandfather died on the same day, our car broke down, we were notified our foster kids were going home, my husband left to travel to our hometown 1500 miles away as my my flew in to visit, and I had just "buried" my best friend. It seemed as if maybe we'd hit bottom and the only way we could go was up. I still missed my husband.
Friday seemed to be a day I could finally take a breath. The whirlwind that had been the past 7 days seemed to finally be slowing down. It had been a week since my ankle injury and I was very much aware that this was a long-term injury. To give you an idea - I couldn't get out of bed without my ankle brace that looked like this. I could hardly sleep without it too, but I couldn't sleep with it either. (On a side note, it was much better 8 weeks later when I got one similar to this one. I could wear it to bed though I had to loosen it up a bit in the middle of the night because my feet would swell I guess cutting off circulation. But it stabilized my foot while I slept...8 weeks later!). But overall, I was doing well and was ready to pick up the pieces after my friend's funeral.
My husband was still out-of-town. Today was the day of his grandfather's funeral. Truth-be-told I would have loved to be there if the circumstances had been different. I would have liked to be with the family and honor him. His wife had passed away 6 months earlier and she was one of the people (therefore they were) that were so supportive of us becoming foster parents. I wish that she could have lived long enough to share in our delight - she was the one family member I knew that had done foster care. From what I gather the funeral went well and my husband was traveling home that night.
At some point during the week I had received a phone call and subsequent screening interview from a company that really intrigued me. They wanted to consider me for a position that probably would have fit my needs well. So, Friday afternoon I had an interview with them. That turned out to be wonderful - I loved the interview, the person I spoke with, and overall it built me up and gave me confidence for the next 6 months at work that weren't necesarily my most enjoyable moments in my career. They wanted to hire me but then experienced a hiring freeze and it got postponed. They promised to call me back in 6-12 months. (Surprisingly they did...and once again it was just what I needed though it didn't work out for me to work for them).
Before the interview we went to a great local heritage museum. It was great to walk around there with my family. My mom loves stuff like that and so do I, but they also have it set up really well for preschoolers with different activities and animals and such. So we did that for a little bit before I left them there and went to the interview. Later we met up for a good mid-afternoon lunch/dinner at Cheesecake Factory and had a great time. My little kids were at daycare still and so it was a nice, relaxing time with good conversation and no tears. Except one of the kids broke a plate. Funny the things I remember!
I had to leave at some point to drive home to pick up the littles from daycare. I had plenty-o-time, but then got stuck in major traffic where someone was broken down on the freeway. I spent 45 minutes going 2-3 miles, which is really unsual for where I live and where I was. I spent the whole time talking to my boss, which was wonderful. She was so supportive of me and I always appreciated her ability/willingness to be honest with me. It was great. She didn't know I had just had an interview but I know she would have supported me with it. Too bad shortly after she wasn't my boss anymore. That was not what I needed at the time, but all part of the big picture of the life season I suppose. When I finally passed the wreck there were people walking around outside the car. It was a relatively small wreck - actually I think it was just a stalled car in the middle of lanes - I remember thinking what is that guy doing walking around in the middle of the freeway.
A few minutes after I passed the wreck the traffic report came on - where I just was there was a pedestrian fatality - someone was stalled and got out of the car and was subsequently struck by another vehicle. That was him - the man just a few minutes ago I had seen walking around. He lost his life. That was enough death for me.
As I drove a former neighbor called - she had lots o tickets to a local rodeo. I'm not necesarily a rodeo kinda gal, but I knew my mom and the kids would enjoy it and I love opportunities to spend as a family. So that night we headed over to the rodeo with all of the kids. We had a blast. At one point they did this thing where the kids were brought onto the rodeo area to chase calfs with ribbons tied on their tale to win a prize. My 3 year old had to go to the bathroom and seeing as how I had the 1 and 2 year olds and my ankle my sister volunteered to take him. Next thing I know he was running off into the crowd of kids on the arena area chasing calfs! Oh my - I wasn't ready for that! He had a lot of fun.
I picked up the car that day I remember. It was fixed.
I had to leave the rodeo a wee-bit early to pick up my husband from the airport. It was 10:30 or 11 when I got to him. We were together as a family again. Just what we needed.
We had a few days to enjoy relaxing, spending time as a family and with my mom, and just recooperating before we knew our kids would be going home the following Wednesday. We tried to make the best of it. I have absolutely no memory of the rest of the weekend or Monday when I went back to work. Things were hard emotionally and we were just beat down, but it went pretty smoothly from there. It was time for an upswing if we could just get through letting our kids go home. So we thought.
Thanks for listening to me tell the story. It's so beneficial for me to type it all out, even the little details I remember. Just to get it out. It will be a few days before the next "One Year Ago Today" series entry - but there will be at least 2 more next week. Have a great weekend!
Friday seemed to be a day I could finally take a breath. The whirlwind that had been the past 7 days seemed to finally be slowing down. It had been a week since my ankle injury and I was very much aware that this was a long-term injury. To give you an idea - I couldn't get out of bed without my ankle brace that looked like this. I could hardly sleep without it too, but I couldn't sleep with it either. (On a side note, it was much better 8 weeks later when I got one similar to this one. I could wear it to bed though I had to loosen it up a bit in the middle of the night because my feet would swell I guess cutting off circulation. But it stabilized my foot while I slept...8 weeks later!). But overall, I was doing well and was ready to pick up the pieces after my friend's funeral.
My husband was still out-of-town. Today was the day of his grandfather's funeral. Truth-be-told I would have loved to be there if the circumstances had been different. I would have liked to be with the family and honor him. His wife had passed away 6 months earlier and she was one of the people (therefore they were) that were so supportive of us becoming foster parents. I wish that she could have lived long enough to share in our delight - she was the one family member I knew that had done foster care. From what I gather the funeral went well and my husband was traveling home that night.
At some point during the week I had received a phone call and subsequent screening interview from a company that really intrigued me. They wanted to consider me for a position that probably would have fit my needs well. So, Friday afternoon I had an interview with them. That turned out to be wonderful - I loved the interview, the person I spoke with, and overall it built me up and gave me confidence for the next 6 months at work that weren't necesarily my most enjoyable moments in my career. They wanted to hire me but then experienced a hiring freeze and it got postponed. They promised to call me back in 6-12 months. (Surprisingly they did...and once again it was just what I needed though it didn't work out for me to work for them).
Before the interview we went to a great local heritage museum. It was great to walk around there with my family. My mom loves stuff like that and so do I, but they also have it set up really well for preschoolers with different activities and animals and such. So we did that for a little bit before I left them there and went to the interview. Later we met up for a good mid-afternoon lunch/dinner at Cheesecake Factory and had a great time. My little kids were at daycare still and so it was a nice, relaxing time with good conversation and no tears. Except one of the kids broke a plate. Funny the things I remember!
I had to leave at some point to drive home to pick up the littles from daycare. I had plenty-o-time, but then got stuck in major traffic where someone was broken down on the freeway. I spent 45 minutes going 2-3 miles, which is really unsual for where I live and where I was. I spent the whole time talking to my boss, which was wonderful. She was so supportive of me and I always appreciated her ability/willingness to be honest with me. It was great. She didn't know I had just had an interview but I know she would have supported me with it. Too bad shortly after she wasn't my boss anymore. That was not what I needed at the time, but all part of the big picture of the life season I suppose. When I finally passed the wreck there were people walking around outside the car. It was a relatively small wreck - actually I think it was just a stalled car in the middle of lanes - I remember thinking what is that guy doing walking around in the middle of the freeway.
A few minutes after I passed the wreck the traffic report came on - where I just was there was a pedestrian fatality - someone was stalled and got out of the car and was subsequently struck by another vehicle. That was him - the man just a few minutes ago I had seen walking around. He lost his life. That was enough death for me.
As I drove a former neighbor called - she had lots o tickets to a local rodeo. I'm not necesarily a rodeo kinda gal, but I knew my mom and the kids would enjoy it and I love opportunities to spend as a family. So that night we headed over to the rodeo with all of the kids. We had a blast. At one point they did this thing where the kids were brought onto the rodeo area to chase calfs with ribbons tied on their tale to win a prize. My 3 year old had to go to the bathroom and seeing as how I had the 1 and 2 year olds and my ankle my sister volunteered to take him. Next thing I know he was running off into the crowd of kids on the arena area chasing calfs! Oh my - I wasn't ready for that! He had a lot of fun.
I picked up the car that day I remember. It was fixed.
I had to leave the rodeo a wee-bit early to pick up my husband from the airport. It was 10:30 or 11 when I got to him. We were together as a family again. Just what we needed.
We had a few days to enjoy relaxing, spending time as a family and with my mom, and just recooperating before we knew our kids would be going home the following Wednesday. We tried to make the best of it. I have absolutely no memory of the rest of the weekend or Monday when I went back to work. Things were hard emotionally and we were just beat down, but it went pretty smoothly from there. It was time for an upswing if we could just get through letting our kids go home. So we thought.
Thanks for listening to me tell the story. It's so beneficial for me to type it all out, even the little details I remember. Just to get it out. It will be a few days before the next "One Year Ago Today" series entry - but there will be at least 2 more next week. Have a great weekend!
Thursday, June 02, 2011
One Year Ago Today - Part 6: Memorial Service #1
This is part 6 of my "One Year Ago Today" series. I had a severely injured ankle,, my best friend and husband's grandfather died on the same day, our car broke down, we were notified our foster kids were going home, and my husband left to travel to our hometown 1500 miles away as my my flew in to visit. We were hanging in there, but not on our own strength.
My best friend's memorial service was scheduled for Thursday evening - 6pm I believe though honestly I don't remember. I suppose I could look at the program which is still sitting on my kitchen counter top. I just can't put it away. I don't remember what we did all day but I remember it being a fairly relaxing day with my family. Maybe we went to eat. Maybe we did something. It's funny - I usually have a great memory but some of these details I just don't remember at all because I was living in such a fog at the time. I do remember that I had run out of my Narcolepsy medication that helps me stay alert and because of all that was going on I hadn't managed to pick-up a new prescription. I believe i had it on auto-refill but when we moved our phone number changed - they couldn't call me, I never called them to check, and it slipped my mind. That didn't help the fogginess. Being without that medication definitely keeps me slower in the mental department - they say I'm "awake" only about 50-60%. I don't know any different aside from being on medication.
I was simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the memorial service. I didn't want to go without my husband. I didn't want to have to go at all - I wanted her back. I knew what would be brewing regarding the custody of her son and I didn't want all that to have to happen. I didn't want him to have to be without his mother. I didn't want my son to have to be without him. I wanted her to be there with me as we went through life. I didn't want her to die.
I do remember "taking time for me" that day. I took a nice long hot shower before getting ready for the service. I gave my head/hair a hot-olive oil treatment that was a bit too hot and burned my scalp. But still...I took as long as I wanted to in the shower, though showering wasn't easy with my ankle being in the shape it was in. Neither was shaving, particularly in the shower. I had no ability to stand on one leg and no ability to rest that same leg on the bench in my shower resting on my ankle so I could shave it. I believe I sat in the shower to take care of it. But the shower was good. I wanted my husband to be with me.
The service itself was very good. My sister went with me - she was friends with Stephanie too but also wanted to be there with me. In her casket was our son's t-ball picture. They took it together because her son didn't want to do it by himself but did it with Logan. There was a picture slide show. Many many of the pictures had our families together. I was so grateful when her family invited me to sit with them in the family section. Stephanie and I were close like sisters. I was there for her and she was equally there for me. We were in contact with each other daily. But technically we weren't family and I know her family grieves her loss as their daughter/sister/mom and I am after all just a friend - it was wonderful for them to acknowledge our relationship as it was.
I didn't speak but many people did - I didn't need to. It was so good to see how many people showed up for her service and how mnay people she touched. After one person spoke in particular, the son of a famous athlete, I finally got how/why she did what she did for a living. It made the picture for me complete (before that I always told her that I couldn't imagine doing what she did, which had to do with facing death on a daily basis). I got it. Finally. And there couldn't have been a better fit for her I think now.
My heart still hurts for my lost friend but her memory remains beautiful in my heart and though it was painful to "bury" her, I was so glad to have had her friendship for the 5 1/2 years I knew her.
I did wish my husband was there. I missed him.
My best friend's memorial service was scheduled for Thursday evening - 6pm I believe though honestly I don't remember. I suppose I could look at the program which is still sitting on my kitchen counter top. I just can't put it away. I don't remember what we did all day but I remember it being a fairly relaxing day with my family. Maybe we went to eat. Maybe we did something. It's funny - I usually have a great memory but some of these details I just don't remember at all because I was living in such a fog at the time. I do remember that I had run out of my Narcolepsy medication that helps me stay alert and because of all that was going on I hadn't managed to pick-up a new prescription. I believe i had it on auto-refill but when we moved our phone number changed - they couldn't call me, I never called them to check, and it slipped my mind. That didn't help the fogginess. Being without that medication definitely keeps me slower in the mental department - they say I'm "awake" only about 50-60%. I don't know any different aside from being on medication.
I was simultaneously dreading and looking forward to the memorial service. I didn't want to go without my husband. I didn't want to have to go at all - I wanted her back. I knew what would be brewing regarding the custody of her son and I didn't want all that to have to happen. I didn't want him to have to be without his mother. I didn't want my son to have to be without him. I wanted her to be there with me as we went through life. I didn't want her to die.
I do remember "taking time for me" that day. I took a nice long hot shower before getting ready for the service. I gave my head/hair a hot-olive oil treatment that was a bit too hot and burned my scalp. But still...I took as long as I wanted to in the shower, though showering wasn't easy with my ankle being in the shape it was in. Neither was shaving, particularly in the shower. I had no ability to stand on one leg and no ability to rest that same leg on the bench in my shower resting on my ankle so I could shave it. I believe I sat in the shower to take care of it. But the shower was good. I wanted my husband to be with me.
The service itself was very good. My sister went with me - she was friends with Stephanie too but also wanted to be there with me. In her casket was our son's t-ball picture. They took it together because her son didn't want to do it by himself but did it with Logan. There was a picture slide show. Many many of the pictures had our families together. I was so grateful when her family invited me to sit with them in the family section. Stephanie and I were close like sisters. I was there for her and she was equally there for me. We were in contact with each other daily. But technically we weren't family and I know her family grieves her loss as their daughter/sister/mom and I am after all just a friend - it was wonderful for them to acknowledge our relationship as it was.
I didn't speak but many people did - I didn't need to. It was so good to see how many people showed up for her service and how mnay people she touched. After one person spoke in particular, the son of a famous athlete, I finally got how/why she did what she did for a living. It made the picture for me complete (before that I always told her that I couldn't imagine doing what she did, which had to do with facing death on a daily basis). I got it. Finally. And there couldn't have been a better fit for her I think now.
My heart still hurts for my lost friend but her memory remains beautiful in my heart and though it was painful to "bury" her, I was so glad to have had her friendship for the 5 1/2 years I knew her.
I did wish my husband was there. I missed him.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
One Year Ago Today - Part 2: Deaths
The story started here. This is part 2 - remember I had a severely broken (I call it that though the break was minor) ankle.
A year ago today started out somewhat normal. Though it was a holiday weekend and I had my injury I was dealing with, but other than that it was normal. We were serving in the church nursery with one of the wife of one of the pastors. We had just sat down, playing with the babies, telling our friend about the injury. I was explaining what had happened, our story of being foster parents, etc. It was really pleasant. Then my husband's phone rang and our world changed.
My husband walked to the back of the room and I knew it was bad. I just knew. As he hung up or maybe while he was still on the phone he whispered to me "Stephanie is dead". It was her mom, who was trying to get a hold of someone, and she had our number in her phone from the t-ball game the day before. Stephanie wasn't able to get off work to take her son to the last blastball game her son and our son played together. My husband was a coach and made sure, this time, that her son batted because every game before then he was too shy. Stephanie missed him but we videotaped it so she could see it. I believe she did.
Stephanie was one of my best friends. She was the first person I met when we moved to Texas besides the people from work and she was an instant friend. We lived across the street from each other for 5 crazy years - truest of thick and thin. We were pregnant together - her son was born 3 months after mine - we were with her through one of the craziest divorces I've heard of - she was there for me through infertility and as a new foster parent. She had the most beautiful smile. She was a single mom. I was kind of like a single mom when my husband worked so we were together almost every day, either letting our kids play or watching a movie, or eating takeout. Or cooked dinner. Her hashbrown casserole was my favorite.
She was one of the most amazing people. Though she had plenty of hardship in her life that she faced, she overcame it with amazing grace. I learned so much from her about southern hospitality and true friendship. Taking life with grace. Facing people with generosity. She did everything for her son. Mostly by herself and she did it with a smile. Always a beautiful smile. I hated seeing her in the casket because though they did a great job with her at the funeral home there was no way they could recreate her smile.
The call told us she never made it to work. She never made it to drop her son off with her mom. So, her mom became worried and went to her home - her car was there but she didn't answer the door. When the police finally came the found her dead in her apartment. At 35 years old she died of natural causes - with everything she had survived natural causes took her life. Her 3-year-old son was sitting near her. He knew she was dead though I don't think he could really comprehend what that meant at the time.
As we sat outside her apartment waiting for the coroner to arrive we chatted, my husband and I with her family who we'd come to know over the years. We talked about Dr. Pepper. We talked laughed about how her sister and I had matching shoes - then remembered how I received mine when Stephanie gave them to me when mine broke. Their mother had given to her and now I have a pair too. We talked and laughed and shared about the matching tatoos Stephanie and I had gotten together just a few months earlier - butterflies - hers blue and mine pink. We got them on a girls night out - the first and only for both of us - I didn't tell my husband before hand and got in big trouble but now knowing how things turned out I wouldn't change it for the world. We cried a lot. We laughed a lot. When the coroner came but before they took her away we went inside for a mini-service - I kissed her forehead goodbye. I'm glad I did - I knew she was dead. It was a closure of sorts.
As we sat and waited for the coroner our phone rang again. It was my father-in-law. My husband's grandfather passed away minutes earlier. It was the 3rd grandparent that died within the last 6 months in our families. Though we were sad, it was so much different than losing a friend. Too many tears had already fallen. It's very interesting to experience both types of deaths at the same time - it helped us see how different it was to say goodbye to a grandparent vs. a friend.
My heart hurt so much that day - and for a long time afterward. I had to grieve all that was my dreams and hopes that I saw in my life that would no longer include my friend by my side. I wish I could have more time with her. I wish things could go back to the way they were then. But it isn't my choice. God had a different plan. There is a big hole where she used to be. I miss her.
The last time I saw her was at CVS the Monday before. She was there with her son who had pink-eye and needed to see the MinuteClinic doctor. I stopped by to get swim diapers because I wanted to take my kids swimming. I'm so glad - I had the chance to see her one last time. I of course didn't know that would be the last time, something so simple. But she smiled as she sat there at 7pm with her son - knowing he couldn't go to school and she would have to come up with childcare plans or stay home from work - all by herself. But she smiled and she showed me and my kids so much love.
I hope she knows how much she meant to me. I only wish I could be that type of friend to others. I need to try to honor her memory and the impact she had on my life. She is greatly missed.
A year ago today started out somewhat normal. Though it was a holiday weekend and I had my injury I was dealing with, but other than that it was normal. We were serving in the church nursery with one of the wife of one of the pastors. We had just sat down, playing with the babies, telling our friend about the injury. I was explaining what had happened, our story of being foster parents, etc. It was really pleasant. Then my husband's phone rang and our world changed.
My husband walked to the back of the room and I knew it was bad. I just knew. As he hung up or maybe while he was still on the phone he whispered to me "Stephanie is dead". It was her mom, who was trying to get a hold of someone, and she had our number in her phone from the t-ball game the day before. Stephanie wasn't able to get off work to take her son to the last blastball game her son and our son played together. My husband was a coach and made sure, this time, that her son batted because every game before then he was too shy. Stephanie missed him but we videotaped it so she could see it. I believe she did.
She was one of the most amazing people. Though she had plenty of hardship in her life that she faced, she overcame it with amazing grace. I learned so much from her about southern hospitality and true friendship. Taking life with grace. Facing people with generosity. She did everything for her son. Mostly by herself and she did it with a smile. Always a beautiful smile. I hated seeing her in the casket because though they did a great job with her at the funeral home there was no way they could recreate her smile.
The call told us she never made it to work. She never made it to drop her son off with her mom. So, her mom became worried and went to her home - her car was there but she didn't answer the door. When the police finally came the found her dead in her apartment. At 35 years old she died of natural causes - with everything she had survived natural causes took her life. Her 3-year-old son was sitting near her. He knew she was dead though I don't think he could really comprehend what that meant at the time.
As we sat outside her apartment waiting for the coroner to arrive we chatted, my husband and I with her family who we'd come to know over the years. We talked about Dr. Pepper. We talked laughed about how her sister and I had matching shoes - then remembered how I received mine when Stephanie gave them to me when mine broke. Their mother had given to her and now I have a pair too. We talked and laughed and shared about the matching tatoos Stephanie and I had gotten together just a few months earlier - butterflies - hers blue and mine pink. We got them on a girls night out - the first and only for both of us - I didn't tell my husband before hand and got in big trouble but now knowing how things turned out I wouldn't change it for the world. We cried a lot. We laughed a lot. When the coroner came but before they took her away we went inside for a mini-service - I kissed her forehead goodbye. I'm glad I did - I knew she was dead. It was a closure of sorts.
As we sat and waited for the coroner our phone rang again. It was my father-in-law. My husband's grandfather passed away minutes earlier. It was the 3rd grandparent that died within the last 6 months in our families. Though we were sad, it was so much different than losing a friend. Too many tears had already fallen. It's very interesting to experience both types of deaths at the same time - it helped us see how different it was to say goodbye to a grandparent vs. a friend.
My heart hurt so much that day - and for a long time afterward. I had to grieve all that was my dreams and hopes that I saw in my life that would no longer include my friend by my side. I wish I could have more time with her. I wish things could go back to the way they were then. But it isn't my choice. God had a different plan. There is a big hole where she used to be. I miss her.
The last time I saw her was at CVS the Monday before. She was there with her son who had pink-eye and needed to see the MinuteClinic doctor. I stopped by to get swim diapers because I wanted to take my kids swimming. I'm so glad - I had the chance to see her one last time. I of course didn't know that would be the last time, something so simple. But she smiled as she sat there at 7pm with her son - knowing he couldn't go to school and she would have to come up with childcare plans or stay home from work - all by herself. But she smiled and she showed me and my kids so much love.
I hope she knows how much she meant to me. I only wish I could be that type of friend to others. I need to try to honor her memory and the impact she had on my life. She is greatly missed.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Tuesday's Tears - 2010: The Valleys
Now I chuckle as I look back at how we perceived 2009 and how that influenced what we expected in 2010. I think I thought the lessons from 2009 were over - but 2010 brought lessons of their own. 2009 was primarily characterized by our struggle with infertility - in 2010 we struggled with one difficult life event after another. Today I can smile again, and I'm starting to feel like I'm catching up a bit on life. But it was a very difficult time last year that, looking back, I'm frankly surprised we made it through. Hopefully, as it is to me, this will turn out to be like the footprints poem. With real-life examples.
Recovery.
- January - 2010 started out with promise. Though I was slammed with work and we still had so many unanswered questions about our future, I felt good, like 2010 was going to be an upturn from 2009. My grandmother died a few days before our homestudy, which coincidentally was only 1 week after the fallout related to this post. January had a lot of turmoil, but we still felt pretty excited about things to come.
- February - Proceeded as normal - School was rough, waiting for answers on kiddos and house purchase was on our mind, but for the most part things were good.
- March - GREAT! Though we went back and forth several times on whether to buy our new house, we received our bonuses which provided us with a good sum of money, the same day we received word that our license went through, which was the same day we had planned a date to see the Black Eyed Peas. It was a good celebration despite my husband's headache. 7 days later we had our first CPU call for our first foster kids - we welcomed Bobby & Lizzy into our home on 3/25.
- April - Another great month - though we waivered a bit on weather or not to proceed with purchasing our new house, we made our final decision to go ahead with the purchase toward the end of the month. The next day I was given a raise to cover the increased mortgage price. A few days later (in May) we were introduced to our future tenents.
- May - And this is where things fell apart:
- First week of May - barely slept - school was hard to keep up with. I was moved to lead a new team at work which was responsible for a major project. No time for slacking.
- Second week of May - Finished school and thought I was going to be spending time packing. As it turns out, that wasn't the case. Spent the week helping the husband fix the ductwork that had been torn to shreds by a stinky mother bird and her disgustingly stinky babies.
- Third week of May - Closed on our new home - we were trying to get in ASAP so that our tenent could move into our old home - she was on a tight timeframe and so were we. Apparently the sellers weren't - even though we closed at 3pm on Thursday they still weren't out at 8:30pm. Thankfully the friends/family we had lined up to help us stayed that long and got everything packed and moved from one house to the other. Spent all day Friday moving in as much as we could with my sister and my best friend while our kids ran around like crazy. I didn't know it but that would be bittersweet.
- Fourth week of May -
- Monday - arranged to take the kids swimming (3 by myself? I was crazy) but forgot the swim diapers. Stopped at CVS to pick some up. Thank God. My best friend was there at the minute clinic with her son - that would be the last time I saw her alive.
- Friday - Worked from home in the morning - the kids' caseworker was supposed to come for a visit. She never made it (went to the other house instead)...after waiting long enough I went upstairs to say goodbye to my hubby for the trip into the office. Decided to take an empty box downstairs to be helpful. Didn't realize there were two steps there - completely broke my ankle and tore apart all the tendons and ligaments. Got put in a half-leg hard boot/brace that would stay with me for 9 weeks.
- Saturday - Was a good day, though its hard to do much unpacking and organizing when you can't walk and you have a 1, 2, and 3 year old.
- Sunday - Went to church as normal - was sharing with folks who saw my injury what happened. We were serving in the nursery. Shortly after service started my husband got a bad call. My best friend Stephanie - the 35 year old single mother of my son's best friend - was dead. We immediately left church and had such wonderful support. Dropped the kids off with my sister while we went to her apartment - waited with her family for the coroner to be done - went inside and kissed her goodbye - prayed with her family - kept her son out of sight while they took her away. While we were waiting we received a call that my husbands grandfather had just passed away. 2 hours after my best friend. J called in sick to work. Thankfully we had friends already planned to bring a meal to us with the new house and broken foot. It became all that much more helpful.
- Monday - Memorial Day - how appropriate. I think we went swimming. J decided to try to go back to work. Less than 10 minutes later he called me - our car had completely broken down - stopped working. I remember going to Sonic to get him a drink - it was hot - but I don't remember how we got the car fixed to get home - hmm.
- June - And the saga continues...
- Tuesday - I decided to go back to work. Was already cried out - or so I thought. As I sat down at my desk I received a call from the kids case worker. The kids were going home in 7 days - to their grandparents - who had given them up originally. And the tears fell.
- Wednesday - My mom came in for a regularly scheduled visit. My husband flew out to California to go to his grandfathers funeral leaving me with the 3 kids. And a destroyed ankle.
- Thursday - The funeral services for my friend. In her casket was a picture of our sons playing baseball together. Had a good cry but was really unable to grieve her loss. More about that later, but partly as you can imagine there was just too much at once.
- Friday - Tuesday - Somewhat back to normal. J came home one of the days. I went back to work (which, by the way, was a mess - remember one of my biggest projects ever - new team)
- Wednesday - Took the day off to have a going away party for our kiddos. It was a great time. As we got their stuff ready my son came to me and said "mommy, if I have to go now, I will" - so brave. I let my mom handle the foster kids and took him aside. Said goodbye and breathed a sigh of relief.
- Thursday & Friday - Spent some time with the family. Tried to catch up on work. Missed the deadline to take a few classes over the summer. Forgot to go online to pay the bill.
- Saturday - Mom was going home. Took her to the movies - saw The Karate Kid - the new one. During the movie my dad kept calling my mom - he was on a motorcycle ride up the coast with his brother and had a good story to tell - I jokingly told her I couldn't handle any more bad news. We ate, gathered up her things, and headed to the airport, my sister and I with our kiddos. Our husbands were working. I think. We dropped mom off at the airport, said our goodbyes and left. We had driven to the galleria, about half way home, when mom called. Dad was in an accident. Major head injuries. Airlifted to the trauma center. No more word. She was headed on the first plane out - trying to get there - had to stop in Vegas. Didn't go home. Drove us to the airport - had my son and my purse - tried to get flights out - it was a struggle - the inlaws helped but it was a major struggle. My sister and her family went home to pick up her husband and were headed out by car to California. They were out of the DFW area before I was. The hospital couldn't tell us anything without my mom's permission. She was in the air. They did let us know he was alive but couldn't say much more.
- Spent the next 48 hours with no sleep - maybe 2 hours or so. I was still in the boot. Spent the next week in California until my dad healed enough to go home from the hospital. Big fight. Straw that broke the camels back for everyone. Went home as planned - drove 24 hours straight with the hubby back home. Where life was anything but normal.
- July - December Recovery. Added two infants to our home. Separately. Wore the boot for 9 weeks total. Dad went back to work after about 6 weeks. Wore a modified boot for much longer. Brother was in an accident and totaled the 69 camaro they'd been working on for 10+ years. Weeks after he got it registered and insured. Threats of kids going home. Threats at work. My own threats of quitting school with 1 semester to go.
Recovery.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Tuesday's Tears - A Beautiful Goodbye
In January 2010 my family lost it's Matriarch - Audrey June Katvala. This was the first of many crazy events in my life in 2010, but strangely (and hopefully not too morbidly) despite the huge loss the events surrounding her death were unbelievably, well, beautiful.
You see, in the course of her 79 1/2 years, my grandmother managed to survive everything thrown at her, with grace as far as I could tell. She survived two husbands, birthed 8 children, "adopted" 3 more as her own, preceeded 32 grandchildren and 20-something great-grandchildren. Life wasn't easy for her, but I never saw her complain. Growing up I thought my family was a perfect demonstration of love and although as I grew older I learned that wasn't nearly as true as I'd grown up to believe, the truth is that my grandma Audrey taught me a lot.
In her latter years she had several severe health issues, but did her best not to let others see how bad it was. I know by the time she passed she was in so much pain and living in sickness constantly...as a Christian woman I believe death brought her relief and serenity as she was called home to be with our Lord. As wonderful as it is to think about her lack of suffering now and her impact on my life (and those of many), her passing was enviable. (Of course, I mean, as enviable as it could be...in other words, with the exception of her pain and certain details if I were able to choose how to go, this would be it).
When it became apparent that my grandmother would not make it much longer and she went into the hospital, immediately her family surrounded her, at least those who could physically get there. I was one of the handful of surviving children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and friends who was not able to get back to see her before she died, but even so far away I was able to participate in letting her go. In her final hours, nearly everyone was able to gather around her in the hospital room, singing worship songs, saying their final goodbyes, and celebrating her life. I'm told that when not in her room, most of the grandchildren remained in the waiting room (overnight even) telling stories of their childhood and reconnecting. those of us who were far away were able to talk to my grandmother on the phone, knowing for certain that it would be the last time we'd talk to her in this life, which meant we were able to tell her what she meant and as properly as possible, to say goodbye. Everyone had the chance, as they wished, to say whatever they felt they wished to say to her before she died and though in the end she wasn't necesarily able to speak back, it was clear that she heard and she acknowledged each person. Only a couple days after she entered the hospital, she passed quietly in the middle of the night.
Seeing as how we'll all have to go at some point, if I could go as an elderly woman with everyone I love around me, having the opportunity to say goodbye to them all and them to me....I think that would be pretty cool.
It was a year ago this past week. We miss you Grandma Audrey.
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