Disco Ball Shoes and a Disneyland Lunch Box

Grief is weird. The things that make me tear up are quite random. The two weirdest ones, I think, are disco ball shoes and a Disneyland lunch box (that's why I titled it that way). 

Disco Ball Shoes
When Tony died, I had several different pairs of moccasins. They were warm, snuggly, and comfy. I loved them. I saved my cute silver, sparkly ones for special occasions. Tony called them my disco ball shoes. After he was gone, I had to wear these shoes. He had named them, so I had to wear them. Silly, but I felt a connection between the shoes and him. They made me smile at the memory. I accidentally ruined them during a huge rain storm. I was disappointed, but Julia had outgrown her pair (we had matching shoes). She let me wear them. I loved it. But then, as shoes are in the habit of doing, they started to fall apart. I decided it was time to look for a new pair of comfy shoes. I couldn't find anything I liked...that was weird...I can always find shoes that are cute. Then I began really looking at my disco ball shoes. I saw all the places they were breaking. I saw the real need to get a new pair of shoes. I realized that they actually are hurting my feet now. And I began to tear up. I started to cry. I didn't want to give them up. I didn't want to stop wearing them. It felt like giving the shoes up was giving up Tony. By getting rid of the shoes, I was getting rid of my connection and my happy memory.

Disneyland Lunch Box
It's really a California Adventure lunch box. I ran across it when we were packing up the house to sell it. Friends were over, and they would ask me, "Keep, toss, or donate?" We were in the kitchen...Tony's domain...it was already kinda hard. I didn't want to keep anything...and I wanted to keep everything. Then the silly little lunch box showed up. The question was asked, and I burst into tears. I sobbed for a very long time. We had gotten this lunch box for Jeremiah when he was little. It was one of the first years the California Adventure was open, and they gave these out in their kids lunches. Nothing major, but it had memories attached...good memories. It also had a future that would no longer happen. We would no longer go as a family with the four of us. Tony and I would not be able to take our grandkids and tell them all the stories of the way it used to be.

The kids and I are moving. We will be renting a house beginning in July. We are very excited. I don't want to be a downer, but I am already dreading the unpacking. I am excited to see my belongings again. I can't wait to get my craft supplies back...but I am not looking forward to seeing that lunch box...yes, I kept it. I am not looking forward to seeing that box that is labeled "Tony's - I can't deal with it yet." Yep, there is a box. Part of me is looking forward to checking it all out and remembering all the memories. I love the memories. Part of me is dreading it because it is a reminder that I didn't get my happily ever after...I don't get the growing old together...

So how do I choose joy? I surround myself with family and friends...even when I'm avoiding them. I allow people to come over and help pack and unpack these memories. I tell the kids the stories...some they actually haven't heard yet. And most importantly, I love. I continue to love even though sometimes it seems that this would just bring more heartache when they leave. I believe that love is the most important thing. So how do I choose joy? I love. I kinda feel like I need to change my blog to Choose Love...                      JOY

New, Random First

The second year has been a bit different. Holidays are just holidays. Activities are just activities. There are no "firsts." The firsts have all happened already. 

Recently I went to the Orange Conference with my bosses and others from BNC (my church and place or work). Orange is the philosophy that we use to teach and live as families in our church. It goes along these lines...we use the colors red and yellow...one represents how much time we have as parents to train our kids...the other is how much time the church has to train our children...together they create Orange...the church and family work together to raise Godly children. So picture a jar filled with marbles. Each marble depicts one week we have with our kids until they reach adulthood (18). My 12 year old's jar is getting so empty. I have a limited amount of time to contribute to who she will become as an adult. My 18 year old's jar is empty. He is an adult. I can still contribute to his life, but I am not guaranteed time. He will move away and have his own life.  

This is completely off topic. I got to the conference. I checked in with my girl back home and made sure everything was good. I checked in with my boy. Everyone else was checking in with family back home. I picked up my phone to check in with Tony. Ouch!!!!! So I did something that I have done in the past. I called his number. This time was different. It said that it couldn't be completed and to try again. It kinda messed with me. 20 minutes later my phone rang. It said that my husband was calling me. I absolutely freaked out and threw my phone. That really messed with my head. Someone else has his number. It feels weird. I can no longer dial his number just to be reminded that yes, he really is gone. My weird, random happenstance of a first.        

So what do I do to choose joy now? I'm not too sure. I try to be the widow that Tony would be proud of. I try to be the single mom that my kids would be proud of. I try to get up and do something each day. I choose to love.               JOY


 

              

          

Trust and Baggage

Jimmy, our youth group leader, talked about baggage last night. It was really good. When we got to small group time, I asked my girls if they ever gave God their baggage and then took it back. I also asked them if they ever were afraid to give God their baggage. Then I asked them if they ever felt like they didn't trust God to take care of their baggage appropriately.

That's where I'm at. I trust God, but I don't trust Him. How does that work? I don't really know, but that's what I've been dealing with for quite awhile. I feel like I have given God my baggage, and He has taken it and given back the worst possible scenario I could think of.

It's like that old joke, "It can't get any worse...", and then it does. I feel like that is what I have been going through for years...except I haven't been stupid enough to say, "It can't get any worse." I gave God my baggage about my husband's injury. God proceeded to let Tony's memory get worse. I gave God my baggage that I realized I was not going to get my happily ever after. God proceeded to take my husband's strength. I finally just gave God Tony. God proceeded to take him. 

I'm afraid to give God my baggage concerning my children, my finances, my want of a home, my future, my happiness. What if I give God these things, and He "betrays" me. I know it's not really betrayal; it just feels like that sometimes.

That's it. This is what I'm thinking about right now. My mom reminded me that I need to write them down, so I can deal with them better. It's been working, so I guess I will try to write more frequently again. They might be short but whatever.

So I have been choosing joy these past few days. I chose joy by hanging out with my fellow singles. I chose joy by enjoying my SF Giants. I chose joy by writing these thoughts out. I have had 4 happy days in a row. I hope this doesn't jinx it, but I am happy. It feels good. I choose joy by just reveling in the happiness.                                  JOY

The Final Outcome

Yes, I am singing a song in my head right now because of the title. This blog has taken a long time to write and post. I have been going through many, many different emotions.

So the court case is officially done. It originally started when the insurance company kept denying help for Tony's head injury that he got on the job. We had to get a lawyer involved so that we could get testing approved and hopefully get a cure. When Tony died it became a death suit. I believe that the insurance company is responsible for Tony's death by negligence. It cannot be proved. Even though I can prove a brain injury through the autopsy, no connection can be found between the brain injury and the heart attack.

I went to my lawyer's office for mediation. What is mediation? Well...me, my lawyer, the insurance company's lawyer, and a mediator (a dude who used to be a judge and now works as a go-between between lawyers) sit down and discuss financial settlement to make this end. Luckily I only had to say hello to the bad lawyer dude, and then I got to spend the rest of the time in my lawyer's office. We spouted out a number to make the insurance company go away. They came back with a lower number. We spouted another number. He said they could only go this high.

For me, it wasn't about the money. I wanted the insurance company to admit guilt in a tiny way (the only way they can admit guilt is through money). I was hoping for a decent amount however to help my kids make it through life. I kinda was hoping for a slightly easier life... I guess I got a little selfish. 

The hardest part of the day was when the mediator told me that my case was one of the worst cases he has seen. He said that as a judge, he would love to give me all the money he could. I deserved it. The problem is that the law says no, he can't. For awhile, when the mediator and my lawyer were talking, I could only sit on the couch (with my eyes closed), cry, and answer their questions. It was so absolutely painful. One of the most painful moments of my life.

Two positives...when the bad lawyer gave his final number...financially...that he was informed by the insurance company that he was allowed to give me...he gave me the number and it didn't include all the fees I would need to pay...so I got more than expected. Then my lawyer...who hadn't expected this...said she would do the same. So I ended up with about $5000 more than we all expected. Bonus!

Negative...I talked to God and told him that the lowest number I thought I could live with...hopefully to help me make a down payment on a house...was $50,000. I also told him how much I really wanted to help me feel better. So I ended up with the lowest number plus my bonus money. Cool but disappointing.

Now I realize that I underestimated how much I would need for a down payment. I definitely don't have enough. So I am now looking at renting...hopefully I can find a good place, in a good neighborhood, who will allow 3 dogs...my kids have requested to not lose any more things in their life aka their dogs.

So I have considered have a gofundme to help me get a house. Can't you just see it? If you donate this much, you are invited to the house warming party. This much and you can even have a tour of the new home. This much more and you can have snacks at the house warming party. Bonus...if you give this much, you can come to a movie night at our house! The best friend level, you get all of the above including a keychain or t-shirt that says, "Joy got a house and all I got was this lousy keychain/t-shirt." That's as far as I could get with rewards. If you have any ideas for more, let me know. Maybe I will offer a picture with me...or an autograph...one of my SF Giants shirts...I could make you earrings or a necklace... I think I'm getting a little carried away.

Okay, so what do I learn today? Nothing much. My mom reminded me that I should get to writing my blog. It might help me start sleeping again...yep, I haven't been sleeping. So we will see. I chose joy by finishing this blog. I chose joy by continuing to work on a different blog post...that I don't think I will post...it's kinda embarrassing. I chose joy by dyeing my blond spot in my hair again...this time it was blue/green. I liked it. I chose joy by going out to lunch with girlfriends. I chose joy by attending my first Giants game of the year. So I have been choosing joy recently. Don't ask about a few weeks ago. I didn't choose joy for quite awhile. It sucked. Anyway, that's it. I shortened it up a bit. Feel free to ask me questions. Yes, I still get angry, but that's okay.                                       JOY

The Dreaded Forgetting

How do you forget that your husband died? (rhetorical...please don't answer) It's been a year. Wouldn't you think that this might be a regular fact in my life? But that's exactly what did happen. I ran across an old friend, and mid conversation wanted to invite him to have dinner just the 3 of us to catch up. There is no 3 of us. Mid sentence I realized what I was saying. Wow! The pain in that moment! I couldn't figure out what to say...I couldn't finish the conversation...I just mumbled, stopped talking, and walked away. Awkward! I wanted to cry, scream, break things, hit things... It was bad enough that I ended up with a migraine the next day. That, combined with the year-mark, created a minor set-back in feeling good.

I'm working at breaking out of the depression. Julia and I are practicing a lip sync. We are planning our spring break trip (super cheap so we don't take from the "trying to buy a house" fund). We are working at socializing...socializing is hard. I'm trying to get caught up at work. I'm going to my personal trainer tonight...maybe she can get me motivated...I quit going for several weeks. I finally added some color to my hair again...it's purple/pink on my blond spot...Julia has blue...hers looks awesome. The future looks long and hard, but I'm working at it. I'm trying to choose to wake up, get up, and do something (please no negative comments...this in itself is a huge accomplishment)(and yes, I have received negative comments)...there are many times that all I accomplish is waking up. I feel like a failure, but I know this is a false thought. So I'm working on that. I'm finding reasons to laugh. Laughter makes life easier...and funner.

I am choosing joy again. How? Pretty much the entire second paragraph is how...go back and read it. I kinda feel like this is short and depressing, but it's not really. It's just life. Life is hard; I'm working on making it easier and more enjoyable. If I have to live, then I want to laugh. Oh, I almost forgot. Joy is easier to choose now that the Giants are back to playing some ball.                                  JOY



P.S. The title made me giggle because it reminds me of The Dread Pirate Roberts from Princess Bride.

The Year-Mark

I thought the "Year-Mark" was going to have a magical moment when things would feel a bit better. I thought wrong. It's just another day...but a day full of reminders...not good ones. Reminders of giving him a hug goodbye (okay, that one is good)...figuring out when to meet Tony, get the kids, and what we were going to eat for dinner...of a phone call...looking for his kindle because he might get bored in the hospital...calling my mom to keep my kids just a little longer...driving to the hospital...seeing his ambulance just waiting at the back doors of the hospital and nobody getting out...getting the look when I checked in at the hospital...getting to have two people to walk me down the hallway to explain about my husband...hearing them working on my husband on the other side of the curtain...calling my mom that she needed to get the kids to the hospital...getting tons of the look...getting told that they are going to have to stop working on him and call it...calling my mom and telling her they didn't need to hurry...hearing them call it (time of death)...waiting while they cleaned him up so I could see him...seeing him...hurrying outside so I could hurl...being extremely hot...waiting for family.........

I also remembered who I was before and who I am now. Before: I accepted stress like it was a competition. Now: Stress happens. Before: I was concerned with "not causing others to stumble in their faith" even to an extreme. Now: I believe that the key to life is to love. Everything else is second. Before: I DID NOT swear. Now: I'm not opposed to swearing. Before: Raunchy jokes are NOT good. Now: I'm not opposed to raunchy jokes; I may even tell some. Before: I was usually too tired or didn't have time to hang with my kids. Now: My kids are the most important thing in my life. Before: I was very strict; following the rules was most important. Now: I'm more flexible; bending the rules is acceptable at times. Before: Public embarassment is not okay. Now: Public embarassment is pretty awesome...especially if it makes the kids laugh. So there are good and not so good differences. Do I like these differences? Are these "now" things okay? I'm not completely sure what I think of the new me.

I remember all the "firsts" and all the accomplishments.
     BNC Oscars
     Job Upgrade
     Throwing the First Pitch for a Baseball Game
     Relay for Life
     Santa Cruz trip
     Creating a Budget
     My First Child's Graduation from High School
     HS Graduation Party
     College Orientation for the Boy Child
     Other Boy Child's Graduation from Marine Boot Camp
     Father/Daughter Dance
     One Direction Concert
     Ambulance Ride
     Joined a Gym
     Got a Personal Trainer
     Birthdays, Anniversaries, Funerals, Trips, Holidays, etc. I wrote about many others on my other blog posts.

The year-mark ended up being much harder than expected...and the pain lasted longer than expected. I finally had to realize that the year-mark was causing me such depression that I had to pay attention to it so it didn't move into suicide. It was relatively close...not to the act, but to the momentum that would take me to the act of suicide. My counselor/therapist/friend helped me see how far I was. Once I acknowledged it, I was able to deal with it. Once I dealt with it, it got better. I'm still not awesome, just not on the path to suicide. In some way this year is worse than last year...nothing can top last year.

So how did I choose joy during the year-mark? I didn't. I chose not to have joy. I chose to sleep and cry and barely survive. I chose to neglect others...well, that's not exactly a choice...it just happened...because I neglected  people. So now I'm trying to figure out who I am now that I'm 41 and a widow, without a home, with 2 kids, and if I like that person. Don't worry; I mostly like her. And now I might start choosing joy again...probably will...definitely will...yep.                                                                            JOY





































































 I love you mom

Strong vs. Broken

Most of my days I live in the "new normal" phase. Life is life. I just walk through it and live it. I am neither strong nor weak. I am neither super happy nor super sad. Life would probably be easier if I could live every day like this. But I love the "strong" days. They are so awesome. But I HATE the "weak/broken" days. I would rather do 100 blah days than one moment of a weak/broken day.

STRONG
Recently I had an awesome "strong" couple of days. I went on my first alone vacation. I was offered the rest of a friend's week at their timeshare. All of my friends had just started back to work or their kids had just started school after the holidays. My kids didn't really want to go with me. (They were going to go with me, but only because they felt guilty and didn't want me to go alone.) I decided that I needed to try this alone thing sometime. So I headed up to Arnold...alone...if you hadn't figured that out.

I went to the market to stock up on some food. Then I vegged out at the cabin for a day and a half. I watched 7-8 movies and read 2 books over the entire trip. It was awesome. I loved it. It was short enough that I didn't have time to get annoyed with myself or go stir crazy.

I really wanted to go to the redwoods, but I was nervous. On the last full day, I decided that I would annoy myself if I didn't make it to the redwoods. So off I went to Calaveras State Park. I got quite a few looks. I guess it's unusual to go alone especially if you are a woman. I went to the gift shop/museum. All 3 people working stopped and stared when I entered. Oh, I guess I should tell you that I was in short sleeves and everyone else was bundled up in jackets, scarves, and gloves. (I honestly didn't think it was that cold...one of the side effects of grief for me.) That might have been why they stopped and stared. Whatever.

I ended up taking the walk through the woods. It was so beautiful. I could hear people around me, but I stayed away from most everyone. I also got stares when I passed groups of people...that one was because I was alone. At one time during the walk, I was completely alone...I was checking out the nature...enjoying the animals. I realized that I was able to do this because I was alone. The birds and squirrels came out and played because I was quiet and still. The best part was when a woodpecker came out to join me. He was so close to me. He was beautiful. This is one of the animals I have always wanted to see. He kept hopping around the trees, pecking at them...it was awesome. I had an amazing experience in nature, thanking God for allowing me to have this moment.

I tried to take selfies of myself with the redwoods because that's all I could do. I wanted desperately to have my picture taken in one of the trees. I ended up waiting around for forever until someone finally showed up. I almost gave up because it was taking so long for someone to come. But I got it. I also got the "wow, you're alone! you are brave." I pretty much agree on that. It felt good.  

                                                                                     

WEAK/BROKEN
Right now I am feeling broken. I am moving toward the year anniversary date of Tony's death, but I'm doing it kicking and screaming and sobbing. This is much harder than I expected. Julia and I decided that in some ways it feels like he just died a month ago, and other times it feels like it's been 5 years. The closer I get to February 12th, the angrier I get and the more I just want to break out into sobs...no matter where I am. I am back to just wanting to sleep. If I sleep, I don't have to acknowledge...I don't have to think...I can pretend...I don't have to make decisions...I don't have to work so hard at living life.

I have been going through Tony's papers because I have a deposition coming up. The lawyers have decided that they want to hear from me. I'm quite nervous about it. So I was in a back corner of McDonald's (I thought I could hide there) and I came across papers with Tony's doodles on it. Along with several shapes and drawings, he had written my name two different ways. I lost it. I tried to hold it in, but noooooo, I had to go sobbing...loudly...poor dude who was kinda near me. It was the ugly cry...in public...awesome...that awesome was sarcastic.

Other things that happen when I'm having weak moments...everything is overly emotional. I listen to a song and cry. I watch a movie and cry. My kids do something awesome, and I cry. Okay, sometimes I don't actually cry. I'm getting good at bottling it up and just letting the eyes get weepy-looking. (I feel I need to remind you that when I cry I get red-faced, splotchy...that's why it's called the ugly cry...besides the ugly sounds I make.) It super sucks. I hate crying. I hate the weak days. I don't even want to write about them...if I could remember them...I kinda block them out of my memory.

So there you have it. The topic that has been bothering me for weeks. So how do I choose joy in the middle of the weak times (it's easy to choose joy during the strong tmes)? I don't really know. It's hard to choose joy when all you want to do is sleep. I guess I choose joy by continuing to do daily activities. I choose joy by hanging with my kids. I choose joy by attending plays that one of "my kids" is in. I choose joy by loving on others...as much as I am able. I guess that's it. I wake up, and I try...sometimes.                                    JOY