Monday, August 23, 2010

Please Stop Fighting

I keep working to try to bring my home around to some sort of "normal." It's never been an overly calm place - with three women in the house there's a fair amount of raised voices - but I feel very strongly that I don't want any negativity here.

I'm guilty of negativity myself - Sarah's room is driving me crazy. It borders on someting you'd see on Hoarders and that scares the stuffing out of me. I will say, "get that garbage off the floor" and then I will leave the room. The garbage consists of random playing cards, lost earrings, wrappers, wrappers, wrappers, old cotton from doing her nails, little toys she hasn't played with in 6 years, and more wrappers. It takes me only a few moments to clear it away - it all goes into a bag and out to the dumpster - but she will be in there for hours and never get it done. I lose my patience and I blow.

One of the things that makes me blow harder and faster is when my older daughter is fighting with her boyfriend. Sometimes it's here in the house an sometimes it's over the phone. It goes on every single day. Sometimes they will spend a portion of the day getting along, but there is some sort of relationship stress shared with the entire family every day.

Today her boyfriend came over for the first time in 9 days. The last day he was here, he got upset with her and stayed on the patio for hours, until I finally said, just drive him home. He texted me and she talked to me and I could not seem to make these kids understand that our family had been through a trauma and we didn't need the fighting. The week that followed consisted of Bailey being ignored by him. She would text or call him and he wouldn't respond. I know how that feels - I had a boyfriend who lived in another state and he would ignore me for weeks at a time (why did I put up with that?). I tell her stop texting him, stop calling him. You can't make a person change their behavior - they have to come up with that on their own. They have to make that connection and say, hey, I better stop being so selfish.

I need to relax about Sarah's room. Sarah needs me to relax about her room. And I need those kids to stop wasting precious time fighting. Everything can fall apart and you can lose someone you love in an instant. Stop wasting time on ugly things. Be good to each other.

They won't listen. Even with Max dying, I feel like the kids just don't get it. You can't get that time back.

I feel so guilty about wasting time on a man at the beginning of the Summer. I had this big crush and I knew it was a bad idea, but I went for it anyway. And that guy doesn't want to be happy. He called me drunk in the middle of the night last night, sad and rambling. He can't let go of something hurtful. He's wasting every day on this hurtful thing. Why?

I wish I could go back to the beginning of this Summer and start all over, do the whole thing differently, but I can't. I wish I could relive every single moment with my boy, Max, but I can't.

This fighting stuff, it hurts so much. In my head I keep thinking, "I don't want this, I don't want this," but "this" is life and I don't want to wish any time with the girls away. "This" is my grief, as well, and there's no letting go of that. If I do, then it's like I've accepted that he's gone. Even though it's been weeks and he's sitting in a little box on my dresser, there's still a part of me that thinks I can somehow get him back, that a boy that wonderful, that sweet and beautiful can't be gone. The world can't keep revolving without him here. It's wrong.

I'm sorry. I probably should keep these thoughts in my head, but sometimes I feel like my head is going to explode. It hurts so much.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Godspeed Little Man

In my 44 years I've lost a few people whom meant a lot to me, but this time around the grieving process feels very different. Every day I wake up and I think, "Max is gone." My mind immediately tries to reject the idea. "No, he's still here."

For the past week and a half, I've been going about the business of life, trying to find a job, trying to show my friends and family that they don't have to worry about me, that I'm okay. Today, I had a job assessment which is leading to a second interview, so that is encouraging. Plus, we found out an hour ago that my grandbaby-to be is a little boy. That was thrilling news. People have been reaching out to my family sending us cards and flowers and meals and it feels so good to know that Max touched so many lives.

I'm trying really hard to be normal, to find joy in the every day, because I want to be strong for my girls, but this grief thing, it can sneak up on me and sometimes, I have to admit, it kicks my ass. It's like a wave that crashes over my head and steals my breath away.

I can be calm and smiling even. Minutes later, there's that grief again. While driving to get milk at Raleys, a Dixie Chicks song came on and I heard;

Godspeed, little man
Sweet dreams, little man
Oh my love will fly to you each night on angels wings
Sweet dreams

It's a song that a mom sings to her sleeping boy, but I connected with it and next thing I know I'm a mess again - driving down the road, crying in my minivan. I miss my "little man" so much. He was a wonderful son and I loved taking care of him. Every single day was a gift. People would say things to me about raising him, comment about how it must be hard to take care of a boy with special needs, but he wasn't hard. He was sometimes heavy, but never difficult. Everything about him was positive, everything was good.

Grief might kick my ass, but I think I'm just going to ride these waves as they hit me. I'm not going to push any of it away, I'm going to find a way to keep my head above water, and I'm definitely going to listen to that song again, even if it makes me cry.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010


School starts for Sarah tomorrow. She will be in the 7th grade. Bay starts at her new job. I really hope the day goes well for both girls. They deserve a good day.

I keep thinking about Max's class and how I'm sure it will be tough for all the ladies who work in there. He went to the same school for 17 years. His teacher, Jill, brought us dinner last night and the school psychiatrist brought dinner tonight. I keep looking at the place where he naps and he's not there. I hear a noise that sounds like a Max-noise and I look up, but it's not him. I miss my son so much. I keep holding on to that feeling and I don't want to let go. There's some crazy part of my brain that still hopes I'll wake up and the whole thing will have just been a nightmare.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010


My boy, Max died yesterday. I need to take a break. I am feeling pretty lost right now.