Like Grandpa

Over the last two years, my son probably cries every three months about the possibility that my husband could die, because three out of four of his grandpa's have died. In those moments I feel completely helpless, and answerless when he asks why.

But today I learned I don't need to know those answers. The two of us, me and my son went to the memorial day neighborhood breakfast. My son disappeared on me, while I was visiting with another mom. He's eleven, so I don't experience the same thoughts and feelings as when he was little.
When I found him, he was cooking the pancakes with one of his friend's dads.

My son's never been to a party where Grandpa H showed up and quietly went to the kitchen to help. I have memories of this, but he's never seen this. My son doesn't have memories of my dad, Grandpa W shaking everyone's hand before church and saying, "Hi. How 'ya doin'?" then answering "Fine thanks for asking." But I see him doing that before church each week.

I was also reminded of Mary looking for Jesus and He told his mother, He was about his Father's business.

My son has a legacy of good people to follow even if he doesn't remember and there is a plan for him. He just needs to discover it, and I need to let him live that plan.

Fixing the Carpet Just One More Thing to Do....

Over the weekend the distilled water jug for the C-Pap machine broke and at least three gallons of water spilled on the closet carpet. I used the carpet cleaner to clean up the mess but our fan broke and there wasn't enough air circulation to dry out the carpet.  Everywhere on the internet told me to pull up the carpet but not how to pull up the carpet. I called a restoration company to fix my mess. They came out and confidently told me I could fix this myself for 10 bucks. I called someone because I wanted this taken care of and to look good when it was done. Not be told to fix it myself.  I painted on a smile and thanked them.

A trip to Home Depot and three items latter I was ready to go.

I sat in the closet and cried as I pulled up the carpet. I cried because I had to do the job by myself. My dad used to do those type of projects with me, not usually for me. I cried because I wanted to be doing other things. I cried because it had to be done and I was the only one to do it. I'd already called the Home Teachers, and my  in state brother-in-laws were all at little kids sporting games.  There was no way to get out of this unless I let the bathroom smell, and deal with the allergies the mold would bring.

Following my instructions I pulled up the carpet. I thought of the Provo City Center Temple. This temple used to be a beautiful, useful building and was damaged by a fire. Then restored beyond comprehension to become a sacred temple. I wondered what the Lord is shaping me to become.

I fixed the carpet and it looks like it did before the spill.

I learned I could do hard things, even when it was just one more thing on the to do list. And yes, my total cost was $7.59.

Laughter is the Best Medicine

Giving Credit where Credit is Due

A friend of mine told me I should give myself some credit for all that I do.  I took apart the kids bathroom sink and cleared the clogged drain over the weekend.

My dad taught me how to clean the drain when I was younger and his method was what was needed  for this project but I don't have the hand strength to remove the pipe and replace it cleaned out. Although I could remove the stopper and using a crochet hook pull out as much hair as possible. The sink drains now and I didn't need to call a plumber. I could fix this myself.

I'm glad my dad followed Lehi's example and taught his children many things. Even if I can't do them Dad's way, the job got done. And I'm a better person for it.

Mother Daughter Activity Day Pajama Party

I've slept in my clothes for almost two years because I never knew if we were going to need to go to the emergency room. Sleeping in my clothes made me feel protected and prepared. It also made me feel less rejected when my husband was sleeping on the floor and not in bed with me.

Because I've been wearing my jeans and t-shirts to bed the kids constantly ask to sleep in their clothes. So when the pajama party for activity days came up, I wore a t-shirt and jeans, and my daughter wore the same thing, even matching shirts.

When people asked me why I wasn't wearing pajamas I didn't tell them the whole truth. Just this is what I'm comfortable wearing. In tying not to sugar coat my life, but be accepting of it. Where do I draw the line. How much info is too much info?

Besides who really cares that I don't wear pajamas anymore?

Me that's who.

What am I afraid of?

The last ten days have been hard. We had more medical tests and answers that we don't understand.  On May 5th my husband was told he needed to be tested for Hepatitis A B And C because his routine blood work came back with his liver function abnormal. He had high white blood cell counts too. That told the doctors he was fighting an infection somewhere. After five different blood draws and an ultrasound everything came back non-life threatening. More problems were identified, a cyst on his kidney and a fatty liver and his sodium levels are low. To add to the list of the spot on his brain, his thyroid, sleep apnea, REM sleep disorder, depression and anxiety, leaky gut and I'm sure I'm missing something.

With all this came back fear. 

Fear so strong that it wasn't rational and I couldn't think logically. The fear was consuming me every time I took a breath. 

I tried to hide from it by going to a play. I tried ti face it by talking about it with my husband, but he was exhausted from from work and trying to make it through the day that he could only talk about the surface emotions.  I tried to throw my energy into other projects like cleaning and sewing and reading good books.  

But the Fear kept growing. 

Thursday, I called a therapist that I haven't seen in six months and scheduled an appointment. She was able to get me in that night after I got of work. When I hung up the phone I cried. Asking for help seems to bring that out in me. People knew that I'd been crying when I walked back into work and tried to put on a happy face and their concern was sincere.    

When the appointment time arrived I was grateful to see Sonya. She's a grandmother and comfortable with herself.  We talked about what was going on, and she helped identify more emotions that just fear. As I understand those emotions better I'll create posts about them, but addressing the fear head on was what I needed.

I felt like I left the fear in her office and my shoulders were empty of burdens.

What I feared the most was losing my husband, but what I didn't realize was that I'd already lost him. All the changes of his health has changed him so much I don't know who he is, or becoming,

And I've been blessed with a new day to figure out who he is and where we are going.

A Rite of Passage

My son turns 12 in less than six months. I has this horrible thought that my in-laws might buy him a gun for his birthday. This thought wasn't far off. After wanting to find out from my Sister-in-law what my in-laws gave the two oldest nephews I decided I needed to handle this fear head on and ask my mother-in-law directly.

My thoughts were not far off. When the grandsons turn 12 Grandpa tells them if they earn their Eagle scout award he will buy a "nice" gun as their present. He's purchased two that are sitting in the family gun safe. I told my mother-in-law that we would need to come up with something different for my house.  My son doesn't even know of the gun tradition, and as much as I like shooting, more guns cannot enter my home.

Why do we even need to bribe my son to earn his Eagle in the first place? Does Grandpa and Grandma even care that my daughter will not be earning an Eagle? Would they buy a gun for the Young Woman medallion?

I may not know what the new tradition will be for my son, but at least I spoke up, even if it wasn't directly.

Into the Woods...to meet an old boyfriend

I've never loved Act II of the play Into the Woods. I haven't watched the updated Disney Movie, and I don't plan on it. I usually avoid the show.  I like the premise of Act II that getting what you want isn't always what you think it should be, or even the thought that life isn't always happily ever after.

We received news from the doctor yesterday that I was still living a "not so happily ever after." My husband's liver isn't functioning as it should be, so today we spent time doing blood work to find out if he has a form of Hepatitis. He will be having more tests ran on Tuesday and are in the waiting game.

My husband took the news as a slap in the face. He's doing better mentally and physically but shut down from the news. He understandably felt overwhelmed and upset and called into work. I never know if being alone is a good thing or a bad thing until I hear his voice. And this time let him be alone with his thoughts, and what health choices he was going to make. This doctor had concerns that one of his medications could be causing his liver to be working too hard. My husband doesn't want to end the medication they are worried about because he knows how much it helps his mental health. He knows what life was like without the medication and what it's like with the medication and doesn't want to go off.

I didn't feel helpless, but more useless in this situation. I've had the thought more than once that he should go off the mental health meds and just see what it's like to only have his thyroid meds in his system. I think his thyroid cause more of his issues and he doesn't know what side affects are from what medication. That's another story. But I fee like if I get what I want by default I win but at what cost if he isn't ready for the idea? That's an answer I don't want to find out.

So when all was said and done and my husband tucked into bed at 6:30 I took the kids to the high school to see the school play even if I don't like the ending. I spent money to watch something I don't love to get out of the house and escape into someone else's problems.  

Act I was fun. We saw the neighbor kids and the older siblings from our football team and told the kids we might leave at intermission because I don't like Act II that much. During intermission I ran into and old boyfriend.

What timing! I haven't seen this guy in 15 years and owed him an apology
and I'd been reminded all day that I wasn't living my happily every after and I see someone I loved with all my heart. Talk about irony.  I don't regret the life I chose, but he was whole-healthy. Something I haven't had for years now.

Mr. X was living some of his dreams. I was sad that he doesn't have any kids of his own. He even accepted my apology and said that he hadn't held that against me.  My kids didn't even embarrass me.
  
I cried though the second act and felt prepared to face life. Even if my life wasn't perfect I had good things to go home to. And coming home felt good.

It's okay to cry

The last few months I've felt a little off. I can't say that I'm not happy, or that I'm sad. I just feel like maybe something is missing, or I should be happier. Those are close, but don't bring to justice that things just plain feel different in my life.

Different doesn't have to be bad, it's more accepting my new situations. My full-time job, going in to work early, and leaving early, actually have a solid night sleep without someone waking me up 6 to 8 times a night.  It's just different.

I read the daily paper and it said a line that gave me permission to feel as emotionally confused as I feel.

The line simply said that after a crisis is over it's okay to cry.  Honestly most of the last few months I've shed more tears at little things at church, or feeling gratitude driving to work or tying to fall asleep.

It's okay to cry and feel all the stuff I could only react to at this time last year.

That's why my happy feels different, my sad feels different, and everything in between feel different. They all feel different because I'm different and that's okay.