Pain...

Today I ran errands. I looked around at the cars I passed on the street, and the people in line at the store. They all were just going about with their lives. Listening to the radio, buying groceries, being normal. I wondered if I looked that way to them. I didn't feel that way. I felt like a ghost. A shadow just passing through other people's lives. I passed an old cemetery on the way home, so I stopped. I just walked around the graves. Somehow I felt more at home there. Just another lost soul. It was oddly peaceful. For just a little while, I didn't have to pretend. I didn't have to put on a fake smile or hide my emotions for the sake of others. 
Tomorrow would be my son's 19th birthday. I should be baking his cake, picking up last minute supplies and wrapping his gifts. 
Instead it will be the 4 month anniversary of his passing...
There is no cake. No balloons. No gifts this year. There is nothing. When I wake up tomorrow, I will remember that he is gone, and that his special day will be just another incredibly painful reminder of that. As if each day isn't hard enough already. 
I keep thinking that we should do something. Celebrate for him somehow. But it's just too hard. I tried to buy a cake mix today. My hand shook when I picked up the box, and it took everything I had not to break down in the aisle. So I put it back. It's just a stupid cake, but I couldn't do it. Just seeing the candles and birthday decorations made me sick to my stomach. How can I celebrate when he's gone? Just thinking about it nearly drops me to my knees. 
I just want to pinch myself and wake up from this nightmare. I want my family back. I want my life back. I want to see my son celebrate his 19th birthday. And his 21st, his 30th, his 50th... I want this pain to stop. I want to hug my boy and tell him I love him. Is that really so much to ask for? 

The Joys of Crafting...

I've talked about my craft addiction before. I've told you how much I enjoy having a constant outlet for my creative juices. (They tend to get out of hand if you don't direct them at something.) But I don't think I've ever talked about the true joys of crafting. Let me elaborate...
When you get a brilliant idea for a craft at 3:30 in the morning, and cannot fall asleep because your mind won't stop running through all the supplies, etc. Craft joy.
When you think you have everything you need to complete an awesome project, only to realize half way through that you are missing one thing. Craft joy.
When you run the vacuum three times, but still can't get the glitter out of your carpet. Craft joy.
When you burn yourself 18 times with your glue gun, on one thing. Craft joy.
When you see an awesome craft on Pinterest and grab your purse and keys to run to Hobby Lobby to get everything you'll need. Then realize it's Sunday. Craft joy.
When you have paint on every item of clothing you own. Craft joy.
When every single person you know thinks you are their personal crafter for every random project they can think of, or have seen on TV or pinterest. Craft joy.
When people tell you "better ways" to do a project that you have been making for years. Craft joy.
When you find glitter, paint, glue, etc. in strange places, and have no logical explanation for how it got there. Like your underwear, or inside the freezer. Craft joy.
When you're selling your crafts at a show and people talk about how "they could make that" right in front of you. And then proceed to ask you exactly how you made it. Craft joy.
When all available space in closets, cabinets, etc. in your home is taken up with supplies or finished projects, but you're still crafting. Craft joy.
But the biggest one of all. When you go through all of the above, but you still get excited to make crafts. That is real, genuine CRAFT JOY. That is when you know you've got it bad...

Grief: Season 2

I get asked "How are you?" or "How are you doing?" a great deal these days. And as much as I am so very grateful for the care and concern behind the question, I honestly don't know how to answer it. To most people, I say "Fine." or "Doing ok." because that is the easiest response, and generally what people want to hear. To the ones who I think honestly want to know, I have no answer. Or at least not one that can easily be put into words. The real answer is that I am a mess. I may look put together on the outside, but inside is an entirely different story. I have learned to fake being normal quite well. For the most part, I can go about my business and do everyday things while keeping my emotions in check. 'For the most part' being the key phrase there. But the truth is, I feel anything but normal. To be honest, I am not even sure what normal is anymore, and I doubt I will ever feel normal again. So what do I feel? I feel.... like a shell. My body looks the same as it always did, but now it is just a mask. A costume of me. I am merely an actress playing the part of Teena. At least that's how it feels most of the time. The pain is all consuming. There is nothing that I see or do that doesn't bring up thoughts of my son. And even the happy thoughts and memories are accompanied by pain. I am constantly torn between wanting to remember and trying to forget. I want to remember him as he was, and forget that he is gone. I want to see his smile, and forget how he looked in the hospital. I want to recall all the good, and forget the bad. I want to live in denial of the fact that he isn't coming home, but I can't. I want to scream to the Heavens and beg for him back, though I know that it will do no good. This is my constant internal struggle. I want to honor my promise to him, and try and find the joy in life again, but it is so hard. So I get up, and go with the motions. I may even laugh or smile and joke, but I don't feel it. Not really. I just feel empty.
Next week is Thanksgiving. A day to give thanks for all that we have, for the blessings in our lives. I don't feel very grateful these days. I'm sure I should. I still have a lot to be thankful for, but I don't care about any of it. Thanksgiving is also the official start to the holiday season. A reminder that Christmas is right around the corner. I am not celebrating it this year. I just can't. It's too painful. December is probably going to be the hardest month yet. Zachary would've been 19 on December 4th. Instead we will mark the 4 month anniversary of his passing. Not exactly cause for celebration. There won't be balloons and cake. No singing Happy Birthday and teasing him about being old enough to drink in Canada now. Nothing. Just a never ending sadness. Follow that up with Christmas? No thanks. Just being in the stores and seeing all the decorations and stuff is incredibly difficult. I don't want to hear the music. I don't want to see the lights. My list to Santa is short. I only want one thing. I want my son back. Nothing else matters. So I plan on skipping it this year. And maybe every year from now on.
So if you are reading this, I apologize in advance for my lack of cheer and jolliness. If you come to our house, don't expect to see a tree, or festive decor. You won't be getting a card from us either. We still love you, and hope that you have a wonderful holiday, but you'll just have to forgive us if we don't seem real into it. Please just be understanding, and try not to think too harshly of us if we choose to skip your dinner or party, as well. I will try to keep my feelings to myself, but if they slip out from time to time, try not to judge me.

My Boy Child and I in our ugly sweaters. Christmas 2011. Our last Christmas together...

A New Day

It's Wednesday morning, the day after the election. I open my facebook newsfeed to see endless negativity and hate. All because one man beat another man in a popularity contest. Is this high school or America?? 
This isn't about who has the better hair, who looks better on camera, or even who is right or wrong. Elections have become a giant pissing contest. Instead of talking about what they plan to do for our nation, they end up focusing on slandering each other. Debates are arm wrestling matches between two giant children. Political ads are catering to idiots with ugly lies and half truths. This needs to end. Democrat or Republican, I don't care. We are all on the same team. This is America. At the end of the day, we all want the same thing. Health, happiness, a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, the comfort of knowing we are safe in our own homes, job security, a good, solid education for ourselves and our children and freedom. Does that about cover the basics? Rich, poor, christian, atheist, gay, straight, black, white, male or female. We all want the same things. Are we really so selfish that we cannot see that? Is it honestly acceptable to think that one group of people deserves more or better than another? Because I'm pretty sure Hitler thought the same thing. Are we striving to be like him? Our ancestors came to this land and started this country on the idea that everyone deserves to be equal. That freedom meant you wouldn't be persecuted for your individual beliefs. That a nation could be run not by a religious group, or a rich king, but by the people. We are those people. We fought long and hard for these rights, yet we forget what they really mean. We are in this together. We are a team. And there is no I in team. Remember in school, when you were taught that it's not about winning or losing, that it's how you play the game? That afterwards, you shook hands with the other team and said "Good game." and you meant it. That was being gracious. A term that we are growing very unfamiliar with in this country. And don't get me started on teamwork. Even Michael Jordan knew when to pass the ball. In almost every team sport there is offense and defense. They have two different jobs, they do very different things, but they are on the same team. They work towards the same goal. Is this concept so insane? Why can't political parties do the same thing? Aren't we all working towards the same goal? Don't we all want those same things I mentioned before? Then why are we fighting each other? There is this thing called compromise. Maybe some of you are familiar with it. It's where two groups work together to come up with a plan that works towards the benefit of everyone. Yes, everyone. Not just a few. Is this really so hard? Maybe if we stopped fighting each other so much and spent less time worried about who is right or wrong, and winning or losing, and more time compromising, things would actually get accomplished. That's crazy talk, I know. Instead of trying to convince the world that your beliefs/views are the ONLY ones, how about focusing on the bigger picture. If you think having good and affordable medical care is the bottom line, then stop bickering over whether or not it covers birth control or abortions and make it happen. Leave the rest up to the people. Don't believe in abortion? Great, then don't get one. It doesn't mean it can't or shouldn't be an option. You don't see the blind lady bitching that her insurance covers glasses, do you? No, because it doesn't affect her, so why should she care? Basic wants and needs are universal. Marriage is the legal commitment of ones love. That's the bottom line. Oh, so your personal religion believes that marriage is only between a man and a woman? Then don't hold gay weddings at your church. Simple as that. But withholding another human's rights based on your personal beliefs is exactly what we came to this country to avoid, is it not? Then why are we still even talking about these things? Your personal beliefs, religious affiliations, and sexual preferences are your own to sort out. Not mine, or anyone else's. They should never even be brought into debate on a public scale. Doing this makes us no better than the men who burned women at the stake for being witches because they bled when they were stabbed. And it makes just about as much sense. Government cannot control everything, nor should it. There is fact and opinion. Politics should deal in facts. Period. Are you entitled to your opinion? Yes. But, guess what. So is everyone else. Are we going to agree on everything? Not a fat chance. But that's the beauty of it. We don't have to. But we do have to live together. So why not do it in peace? Why not compromise and give everyone the chance at having a good and happy life? Why can't we agree to disagree on the unnecessary details, and just do what is best? Is this really so hard? Stop and take a second to examine your life. Are all your friends the same sex as you? Are they all the same religion? Do you all make the same amount of money? No? Well fancy that. You have different views and lifestyles, yet you are still friends. You probably argue from time to time, but you still love each other. You agree to disagree. You compromise. See! We ARE capable of this. If we can do it on a small scale, then it is really so hard to do it on a large one? 
"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." It's as simple and basic as that. 

The End is Near???

According to the Mayan calendar, we are just a little less than two months away from the end of time. December 21, 2012. 
For some, this is nothing but hogwash, but for others, they have been preparing and planning for this for years. Shelters, food stashes, weapons, etc. 
Me, I'm not sure what I believe...
I've done a bit of research into it and found some interesting information. According to some believers, the end will be brought on by an onslaught from Mother Nature. Earthquakes, floods, hurricanes, fires and more will wreak havoc on the land until there is nothing left. This makes me a tad nervous...
Natural disasters are at a record high. Even as I type this, a hurricane of unknown proportions is headed toward the east coast. California is on alert for wildfires and there are earthquakes in Canada, just to name a few. I'd love to just shake my head and say "Bah! Those crazies are always yelling apocalypse!" But the last thing I want to hear whilst being attacked by zombies is "I told ya so." So maybe, just maybe, we should consider the possibility. I mean, is it so insane to have a well stocked first aid kit and a full tank of gas?? And maybe some granola bars and bottled water, too? Don't be silly, that's just common sense. But let's say I wanted to be even more prepared... you know, hypothetically speaking, of course. What would a gal do? I'm not even sure of the best things to have in an apocalyptic situation. Lots of toilet paper would be a good thing, I imagine. Just for kicks, I Googled 'emergency preparedness'. I found kits for hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes, wilderness and on the go. But nothing for zombie attacks or end of times. You would think this would give me some comfort. If there are no kits, then no one must really be taking this seriously, right? Or maybe I'm not the only one who doesn't know what to pack. I find this upsetting. Normally, I am a great packer. Prepared for anything. But this is different. Will the end be cold or hot? I certainly won't need formal wear, but what shoes do I bring? Lipgloss is a must, but I suppose the hair dryer is overkill. Extra socks and undies of course, boy shorts, not thongs. And what about food? Canned goods and peanut butter of course, but how do I choose what snacks I want? I mean, zombie killing is quite the workout, so high energy foods are important. But after a long day of building shelters and hunting dinner, don't I deserve a nice treat? Skittles don't take up that much space. And what about creature comforts? Is there room for my iPod? A few books? How will I sleep with only one pillow?? 
Toothbrush, feminine hygiene and a razor are musts. And let's not forget tools. Tools for cooking, building, repairs and more. 
This is too stressful. I suppose if you forget something, you can always raid abandoned homes or stores, right? It's not stealing, it's survival, don't judge. And is it better to work in groups, or go solo? More people means more brain power and problem solving, but it also means more supplies used, and I am NOT sharing my Skittles. Probably selective teams is best. At least until things get more stabilized. Maybe I am over thinking this. But better safe than sorry. At least if it happens, we won't have to celebrate Christmas...

Time

I've always thought about time as a measurement of where we are in a given space. Are we 3 hours into a day? Or maybe 3 days into a month? Three months into a year? And so on... But since August 3rd, time has taken on new meaning to me. 
I now look at time as a distance. Am I closer to the end or the beginning? Now sometimes, this is a general thing, like am I closer to the end of the day or week, but more often than not, it is a reflection on life itself. My son was so close to the beginning of his life when it was ripped from him. 18 years is nothing in the grand scheme of things. Which begs the question, where am I in the grand scheme? Is 33 closer to the beginning or the end of my time? A few months ago, I would've instantly said the beginning. Now, I am just not so sure. Some days it feels closer to the end. Or maybe it's really that some days I just WANT it to be. Once my son became a part of my life, I never even thought of the possibility that he wouldn't be in it. Now, I have this unknown and possibly long future ahead of me, and it feels wrong. Why am I allowed 33+ years, and he wasn't? Why did I get to fall in love and share my life with someone and he didn't? Each thing I do now is overshadowed by the thought that my son will never get to do it. How does one get past that? DOES one get past that? 
Time is a funny thing. I look outside and see the seasons changing. I see kids growing up and adults growing old. I know time is passing. But in a lot of ways for me, time stopped on August 3rd. When I walked in that hospital room and saw my son, I knew life was forever changed. Logically, I know that time has passed. But emotionally, I feel trapped in a time warp. Every time I close my eyes at night, I see his face. I relive that night. Each morning when I wake up, I remember he is gone. It's like an endless loop. The days pass, but I'm just not sure I really notice. They all seem the same to me now. Yes, some are better or worse than others, but that's about it. I find myself saying "What day was that?" a lot now. I've missed loved ones birthdays and anniversaries. Holidays mean nothing anymore. Time is passing all around me, but I feel left behind. My friends and family are great, and they have been endlessly supportive, but at some point, they too will move on. They will go back to their normal routines and their lives. I no longer have a normal routine or life. Now I am the crazy woman crying in her car at a stoplight. Or the weirdo getting emotional at the grocery store over a bag of cheese balls. This is my new routine. I go through life one minute at a time now. Each day is a test of my will. Can I make it through this without breaking down? What will trigger me today? What will I say if someone asks me if I have kids? This is my new life. There is the me that everyone sees. She laughs, she jokes, she goes about her business. She seems fine. Then there is the real me. The one who is fighting just to get out of bed each day. The one who struggles with things like making pancakes because it reminds her too much of him. The one who talks aloud to her dead son and begs him to come to her in her dreams. 

Time is a funny thing, because no matter what each of us is going through, time doesn't care. It still keeps moving on. The clock keeps spinning, the days and years will pass whether we want them to or not. And maybe, in time, I will find some kind of peace. I guess only time will tell...

                                                                 (My son, Zachary.)

Ahhh....Fall.

Fall. My favorite time of the year. There is just something magical about it. From the ever changing colors, to the scent in the air, it is filled with beauty.
I have always preferred fall to other seasons. Spring is great. It offers a welcome reprieve from the bleakness of winter, and the rebirth of plants is always nice. Summer is awesome. I love the heat and the fun of summer. Long days and warm nights make for so much fun. Winter sucks. Sorry, but you can preach about the frozen beauty and holidays all you want, they do nothing for me. I loathe being cold and winter is simply too much work. From getting up early to scrape, shovel and defrost, to all the obnoxious bundles of clothes to simply keep  your teeth from chattering. Winter can suck it. But Fall... Oh joyous Fall. YOU are the season of my heart. The colors are beyond belief. I have lived in Michigan all my life, and I NEVER tire of seeing this magic happen. The palette of fall is rich with reds, oranges and yellows. It is breathtaking in its glory. And it changes literally day to day. It's like waking up to a whole new world. I love it. I now live in an apartment, so I don't get to rake, but I miss it. No really, I do. Mostly, I miss raking the gorgeous leaves into giant piles and jumping in. (Oh yes, I still do this.) It brings back the kid in me, and I doubt I will ever not enjoy this simple pleasure.
Fall is pure magic. The weather is perfect for being outside. Jeans, a comfy hoodie and your favorite boots are the preferred outfit. Days spent at cider mills enjoying warm cider and caramel apples. Nights in front of a cozy fire. There is nothing bad about fall. And let's not forget Halloween. The BEST holiday of all time. Yeah, I said it. The best. You can take Christmas and its overdone, wasteful, commercialized "joy" and stick it where the sun don't shine. (Oh that's right, it's during winter, so that could be anywhere.) Halloween is where it's at. Let's just hit a few key points:
1. There's candy. And lots of it.
2. The decorations are a hoot.
3. You get to dress up. This means you can be anything or anyone you want. Seriously... how great is that?!
4. Did I mention there's candy?

So yes, I ADORE Fall. I love it. I would marry it and have its red, orange and yellow babies. I wish it could last longer, but alas... that is all part of the allure. You have to enjoy it while you can, because it WILL be gone quickly. And then it's winter.... Gross.