Back from the edge

For the love of all things purple...

Writing is how I cleanse my soul. It's how I clear the spiderweb of thoughts that cloud my mind. Living as a single mother for four and a half years has taken a toll. This is the first time I've sat to write in two years, I'm pretty sure.

We've lived with my late husband's parents for a year and a half. My son, and I, needed some stability and I needed  help. I made some poor choices after suddenly becoming a widow at 41. Shocking, eh? I am completely over people who say, "It could be worse". Yeah?

I had it worse. I held my daughter as she died. I held my mother as she died. I miscarried three pregnancies. I don't whine. It's ok if I express frustration. It's ok if I express anger. It's ok if I express sadness. When you devalue my feelings, that says something about you, not me.

Speaking of devaluing, what about the shit show that is this laughable administration? Every single day, some other horror is broadcast from his grotesque orange face. How anyone, particularly those claiming to be followers of Christ, support and defend DJT is beyond my comprehension. People I've known my whole life are foreign to me now. In the past 3 years, the USA has gone from a world power to a world circus.

I want to move to a foreign country where all people have equal rights and our taxes are used for the good of everyone. If you have insights, shoot me a message.

Happy holidays, all of them.

New Year, New Goals, New Me

Woohoo! The black hole of misery that was 2016 is over!

Although I could easily say that the past 16 years have been hell, I won't. Olivia's life brought many stresses and heartache. It also brought immeasurable joy. The past 10 years have been purgatory, bordering on hell. I lost my mother. I lost Olivia. I lost a husband. I've moved twice in a year. The past two years have been the true hell.

I have survived in a fog. I've gone about life without feeling engaged. Other than parenting Emory, I have not felt in any sort of control. Please do not misunderstand me. Parenting a preschooler is far from controlled!

Due to many issues, more unavoidable change will be coming in the near future. To try and change the trajectory, I'm taking steps. Some are small. Some are huge.

I have started my own business with Rodan and Fields! It's life changing skin care developed by the doctors who brought the world Proactiv acne skin care. My only set goal this year is to work this business and make it my primary income. Everyone uses something to clean their skin. I'm not into traditional salesmanship. If you're looking for a new regimen to improve your skin, then all you need to do is look at the real results people have experienced with R+F. I looked at it for nearly a year. I jumped on board because someone I have known for years was a consultant. I trusted her. I knew the photos she presented weren't doctored. This is the real deal.

My first goal is to get 6 preferred customers

*Preferred Customer pricing offers up to, and in some cases more than, a 10% discount off retail price.

And, have 2 people join me in being consultants by January 31. I want to build a team. I want to grow myself professionally and personally. I want to be in charge of my time and spend more of it with my son.

If you are looking to improve your skin, your life, or both, please join me!  

 

 

 

Happy Chanukah! Merry Christmas! Happy Yule!

 

Christmas 2016 will go down as probably the happiest in my life. It is also breaking my heart.

 

 

 

In all of Olivia's 8 years, I never had to fib, sneak, or hide to surprise her on Christmas morning. There ARE advantages to having an immobile child! Tonight, I did all of those things so that Emory's eyes would pop out of his head in a few hours. I also never saw her jumping up and down with excitement. I didn't hear her say, "Can I have this?!" twenty times a day when hearing about other kids' wishes or seeing a commercial. I never got to see her run to Santa and eagerly tell him what she wanted to find under the tree.

 

Santa has come to our house tonight. With the help of special people, Emory is going to have an amazing Christmas. I love seeing him in his wonder! My heart is so sad, even after all these years, that putting a tree on a grave is all I get to do for my daughter. I am trying to focus on Emory. By doing that, I think I've set off my mom guilt. In my head, I know it doesn't mean I forget her or love her less. Oy!

 

I hope you all have blessed holidays, whatever you're celebrating. Much love from our family to yours!

 

 

Widowed at 41

On Tuesday, May 19th, I came home from work and found my 37-yr-old husband dead.

Let that sink in. Really, let it sink in.

The initial shock and trauma have passed. The memorial service was beautiful and arranged to a T as Kelly had requested. His parents have now become part of the group of bereaved parents that I never wanted to be in. I am a widow at 41. My child is fatherless at 2.

In the past 8 days, I have seen sides of people that are surprising, shocking even, to me. My friends have been amazing, as they always are. Three core members of my posse dropped everything and came to my side the night I found him. They stayed with me for hours as my house was combed by police and my husband taken from here for the last time.

There are others. Others who believe they knew him better than anyone else. Others, who, believe that they have "rights" to him. I have spoken to people individually. I have tried to be reasonable. It hasn't been successful. This is why I write today.

We have been married a little over three years. We have been together for five. We have lived together for four years. So, during the past five years, I saw him almost every day. It was I who held Kelly when he was scared, crying, or sick. Were you there when we lost two pregnancies? Were you there when I threw up for hours on end, day after day, for 22 weeks of my pregnancy with Emory? No, but he was.

Were you here when we bickered? Were you here when the ugly sides of both of us came out? No. You may have heard from one or both of us, but you didn't see what really happened. My friend, Julie, saw more than most. She had the unfortunate knack of being here on a couple of days when ugliness was spewing. I believe she would answer questions if you really want to argue what you think you know.

There are people who have started social media pages and events using my husband's name without my knowledge. When I asked for that to be stopped, not only was my request not honored, I was criticized and disrespected.

My heart is broken. It breaks over and over. I come in my door and see the place where I last saw Kelly and it wasn't pretty. My beautiful, wise child asks in different ways every day for his daddy. I am the sole party able to handle the legal aspects of his death. I am out of work, so there are financial concerns.

My funny, sweet, imperfect husband has been dead for 8 days. People, you need to back off. Things I may be happy to see occur in the future are not appropriate now. I cannot believe that I am being pushed about festivals! For the love of God and the memory of the man you say you love, please stop. Please let me grieve and try to get my life in some kind of new order. I should be doing nothing except necessities and taking care of Emory.

Thank you to all of the family, friends, coworkers, and strangers who have shown me love and compassion. You are greatly appreciated and cherished.

Merry Christmas to All

I have not even managed to make a quarterly posting this year! Eeeeeeeee...this parenting a typical toddler is no joke!

My year has been filled with joys and sorrows, as most years are. I lost my job of 5+ years at Brenner Children's Hospital. I was part of a large layoff last spring. I enjoyed a couple of months being a SAHM to my wonderful boy, then jumped back in as a hospice social worker. I love the work I do. I miss the hospital. I do not miss the 10-hr shifts! I saw my rainbow baby boy walk and run and climb! I receive daily hugs and kisses. When he's sad or hurt or tired, he says, "Mommy hold you" or "Mommy's baby". I reply, "Yes, you are Mommy's baby". I hold him until he wants down or I have to pee. I'd hold him all day, every day if he'd let me and I didn't have to work. Or pee. Pesky bodily functions get in the way of my joy! BUT, I am thrilled that he does not want that. He is growing and developing astronomically fast! He speaks around a 3-yr-old level. His pediatrician is always showing him off to her colleagues. I feel so amazed by him daily and thankful to no end.

My nephew, Justin, died at age 25 on Friday.

You can read some of my older blog posts here to refresh your memory of him. He had a spinal cord injury that resulted in paralysis. He’d battled many issues related to that during the past 39 months. This time, he said he was tired and done. It was sad because of his age. The true sadness came years ago as he wandered onto a path of drugs, criminal behavior and then mental illness found its way to him. I hope he is truly at peace now.

My husband went from a part-time worker and SAHD while I worked to a small business owner! It’s been a huge change for our family. There have certainly been speed bumps. He’s getting over them pretty impressively.

My heart still hurts for Olivia. The void that she left will never be filled. I am thankful that time has helped the sharp pain become duller. I am beyond grateful that I have a healthy, beautiful, rambunctious little boy who requires so much of me that I don’t sit and dwell on the hurt. It is kind of like a sunset amongst clouds now. The rays peek in and out, but they aren’t the most visible now. I’m ok with that. Being happy doesn’t mean I don’t love her. It means I’ve kept living. Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.

As Emory’s independence grows, I hope to get back to writing. I miss the outlet. I don’t think people are dying to know my thoughts. Writing them and sharing them is for me.  I hope that someone who’s going through similar things may find something useful in my words. Thank you for taking the time to read them.

I wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and all that jazz!