Oh Christmas tree.

    Sitting on my leather couch.  The house is quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge.  My Christmas tree is glowing and it's lovely.  The lights are dimmed.  I purposely have the blinds closed because I love to get the full affect of the twinkling lights,  I don't care if it's two in the afternoon.  I want to sit on my huge over stuffed lovely brown leather couch that I am still paying for.   I love it so much and I HAD to have it.  I melt into it every time.   It was worth it, and so is the monthly bill.  To hell with debt free for now.  My eyes are starting to fuzz in and out and I pull my blanket in close.  

  I see through the branches, past the ornaments and the twinkling lights that it has begun to snow outside as if on cue.  Now all I need is a little Diana Krall Christmas music in the background, 

  I watch the big fat snowflakes twisting, flipping and falling towards the ground.  Reminds me of when I was little and would try to follow one snowflake from the sky to the ground without losing it.  

My eyes are drawn to the tree again and they fall on the little circle hanging from one of it's branches.  It has a little embroidered Christmas tree on it and the material has aged so much it is yellow though I know it was once a stark white but that was when it hung on Mom's tree so many years ago.  A tinge of sad hits my stomach and I wiggle it free by changing positions on the yummy chocolate couch.  Kind of like when you rub a charlie horse out.  It's still there.. but it subsides just enough to for my eyes to fall on the R.I.P. BUTTERS ornament in the shape of an actual Christmas tree that makes me smile and almost chuckle.   Butters was my husbands poor cat that I found... (God rest her soul, or was it a him??  Either way) under the Christmas tree DEAD one year (NO LIE) and I pulled it out by its tail stiff as a board.   I later confessed to Justin that I accidently sucked Butters tail up with the vacuum that previous night and yelled at it because he/she would not get out of the way.  Did I mention this was right before it ran under the tree and well, I guess kicked the bucket??  Who knows, but it still makes me chuckle.  My mom made the ornament for Justin that Christmas and we laughed so hard Ma and I both almost wet are pants.  

  Right next to it I see the ginger bread man that Cole made in pre-school one year and just as I am getting sentimental a Barbie foot catches my eye and I sit up and lean forward to focus.  Is that??  Huh??  YES a full naked Barbie and WOA! WHAT THE HECK... a half eaten piece of string cheese.   The Barbie has an abandoned shoe lace tied around her naked chest and there she hangs..  real creepy.   I sit back and sink into my delicious amazing unpaid for couch and I pull my blanket up real close and I gaze at it all.  Trying real hard to tune out the naked dairy queen and her sadistic slutty strings tied around her plastic rack.  My daughter is probably chuckling upstairs in her bed eating the rest of the string cheese.. Little shit.    

   I love the tree and I love what it symbolizes.  Every year I say I am going to have a tree was a theme and everything is going to match and when people come see it they are going to think I am so creative and talented. But every year I pull out the Butters ornament... and the yellowed embroidered Christmas tree circle and so many others and I relive every single Christmas I have ever had and every year I add a few new ones to replace the ones that have fallen victim to little children's curios fingers.  

   Maybe I will keep the Barbie up there too. I am sure in her own unique way Kendall meant for it to be special like the rest of them.  I will lose the cheese though.  

   Merry Christmas everyone.  Take time to appreciate the memories.  And don't forget to own those new ones, even if it's as silly as a half naked Barbie shoved in your tree.    

You May have 'the cancer' but 'the cancer' can't have you.

Song Suggestion:  My Wish For You  by Rascal Flatts

"You've heard about my whole cancer arm thing haven't you?" she asks

"What?" I replied "What are you talking about?"

She plops down in my chair at the Hair Clinic with a North Western College water bottle in her hand and takes a few big swigs..

"I was doing the P90X work out and my arm got real puffy and sore. Dr. Cindy decided I needed a scan. I have a tumor growing out of my arm. Going to Rochester and going to get it Biopsied." she says.

My stomach drops and I get this feeling. I remember I used to feel so much more. Now I sort of get a feeling but theres no emotions attached. It's like there all gone.. the only time I cry is when a host of things compile and I happen to stub my toe.. or bite my tongue and then it all comes out like a damn waterfall. I sob and sob and sob, then I am better. It really only takes about 10 minutes and then I am great. I always love a strong cry. Good for the sole.

I tell her what I want to hear.. "Naaa it's not cancer."

"Well just in case I am not coloring my hair.. if it's all going to come out anyway." she replies

"Right... makes sense." I say then I start to shut down. I can tell my lack of emotion is only due to shock, not the fact that I have a heart of cold hard stone because I can feel the lump in my throat and she continues to chatter on with a woman in the chair to the left who is getting her hair colored red.. terrible choice by the way.. it's all wrong.. the skin tone then the cheap looking red... shit, there I go again, focus Renee.. She doesn't have cancer, she doesn't have cancer.. she doesn't have cancer..

My cell is ringing. It's her. I know she's calling to tell me what the Doctors at Rochester have found. Cole asks me why I am not answering my phone. Because I'm scared, because I can't do this again, because I don't know what to say or how to say it. Because I don't want to hear bad news.. I shut my phone off and I lie to Cole.. "Wrong number." I say

"Hi Renee, it's Cindy. It's Cancer and it's treatable.. soo that's real good. Talk to you soon." click.

I put my tennis shoes on and go for a run. I put on my angry rap music that makes me run real fast.. and I run and run. Until I realize I need to breath. I need to slow down. I need to chill because people are starting to look at me as I run past them like I am being chased by a wild animal... plus my ipod is jacked up so loud I didn't realize I sounded like I was going to die.. real loud breathing.. real dramatic. I watch the old man who lives in the yellow house with the fugly shutters stare at me through his circa 1982 glass door with the sparkly door handle. My sunglasses are big.. he never knows I know he watches me. I bet he is secretly hoping I pass out so he can give me mouth to mouth... fat chance buddy. I am a machine. Ain't going to happen.. In your dreams you dirty old ma.... Suddenly I am getting honked at. I've almost been killed, run over because I am lost in thought. Poor old man.. dreams almost dashed. ha

I tend to try and make myself feel better via innocent strangers.. aka poor old man in ugly doorway who happens to be standing there when I run past his little house. I am so sick.. this isn't about me. I start to walk. My breathing is still quite loud and it turns into a little whimper and then it comes. I walk and cry for about 10 mins. I feel better. It's not about me. It's not about me. It's not about me, it's not about me I repeat to myself with the beat of my strides.

I text her and we talk, I ask questions. She refers to herself as having 'The Cancer'. Insanely upbeat I am in awe. She has already had a first treatment and she says she will lose her hair. I whimper a little more. She is my fave. I love her salon visits. I love her. We cut her hair very short to prepare her.

Cindy comes in the next week and she is going to a wedding.. she stops into the Hair Clinic randomly and gets three inches from my face and says.. do my hair. I sit her down and start combing through her hair.. and it's coming out.. it wisps to the floor and a small pile falls to my feet. Everyone looks at me when she asks me.. "Is it coming out??" I want to lie and tell her no... its fine and your fine and were all OK. Instead I pause.... and she turns around and looks at me and I say "Yes, it's coming out." I am sad. I don't say that out loud.

Cindy came in with an entourage. Cindy's best friend Cindy Pals, and her two daughters Brandi and Samara came along. LuAnne Keith and her daughter Donna. We all piled in the back where we do all our waxing and I took out the buzzer. LuAnne held Cindy's hand as I clicked on the shortest guard my buzzer has and shaved her head. I swallowed allot. Cindy talked and it was like any other haircut. Her head is pretty. Nicely shaped. I remember feeling so honored to be there with these woman. We just lost Justin's uncle Steve Pals to cancer not even a week previous and yet there sits his wife, Dr. Cindy, with her two amazing daughters and she is there to support her best friend. It was a powerful moment and it ended with giggles as I attempted to put a turban on Cindy's head and almost strangled her. I know nothing about this.. I have much to learn.

I have learned this. Cancer will always be here. It will linger around us and taunt us. There will be more people who gets cancer and we will always wonder why it's happened to them. But one thing Cindy said to me stuck with me.

"It's all about the attitude Renee."

Dear Cindy-

You may have the cancer. But the cancer cannot have you. If I need to massage your lovely bald head with Tea Tree oil and feed you gummy worms everyday to make you feel better I will. I love you lots. So lets hurry up and beat this.

xo xo Renee

Margaret

Song Suggestion: What if God was One of Us by Alanis Morisette

The business of the day had taken over my mind. I came flying into the backdoor of the Hair Clinic.. brushing my pant legs off because.. of course... I notice in the last three seconds of my fifteen minute car ride that there was lint all over them from the dryer. Nice. I walk in looking rather unkept and I already feel a hint of anxiety. Great. I can smell the aroma of my evening awaiting me.

I page my finger down the schedule, finding my name then landing on my first client.. one, Margaret J. (respectfully keeping her name anonymous)

My first guess is this.. 'Margaret J.' is middle aged lady who has been referred to me by one of my more committed clients. My assumption was incorrect however when in walks a plump looking lady with polka-dot fingernails chewed down to the nub, and her aid. I am going to be completely honest with you. I rolled my eyes.. subtly yes. But the bitch in me sort of clawed her way out.

Margaret may not have been all there. But as much as she could be, she was. I got to thinking as she stretch my patience with the exact same question 15 times in a row, how life would be if it were just as simple as Margaret's. I mean what would it be like when someone walks into a salon with a prosthetic arm, to just say...

"Hey.. um.. what happened to your arm?"

Yes.. it happened, the aid and I tried to intervene.. to no avail.. :) But it was the honesty that caught me off guard. Not the rude bluntness.

What would it be like to always feel comfortable saying what is on your mind? Would it hinder you or better you?

I guess that is the luxury we as mostly sound.. healthy human beings have. But I want to thank you Margaret. For stretching me. For making me laugh when you so bluntly asked me why my hair is so blond. he he.. for chugging your Mountain Dew faster then a college dude chuggs his Miller Light and for belching louder then he probably could also. Nice push Margaret. I hope your red hair with blond highlights serve you well, and I most definitely hope to see you again.

Lesson learned? Don't ever judge a book by it's cover.

Big Strong Girl

Song Suggestion: Big Strong Girl by The Weepies

Special thanks to Mrs. Kimberlee Soo for letting me use her lovely photo.

(kimberleesoo.com) You continually inspire me.

Same goes to the very talented photographer Kat Powers.

Have you ever had a night where you dreamt all night long? I know they say that you always dream when your sleeping. But have you ever had it when you wake up and remember them... all of them? Last night I had a busy night. Of dreaming. I woke up this morning and as my mind yawned.. stretched and slowly woke up all those dreams came back to me one at a time. The dreams were all jumbled up together. Bits of my yesterday morning were intertwined with my evening.. comments I made to my children were blended with conversations with my close friends.. some things were just thrown in there that my mind created and I am left to wonder what they mean. I believe dreams tell you allot about your life, and the ones that you remember that you don't understand are placed there to make you ponder what they mean. Sort of like when your having a really shitty day and you cannot figure out if it is one specific thing or a combination of things. You think and think and when you find the answer you feel better. It's the itch that you finally can scratch and you move on.

I am at my church parking lot. I get out of my vehicle. I am not sure why we are at church meeting my whole family to go the the Sioux Center pool, but it's one of those things that dreams do.. they just throw something random in the middle of it. Bottom line is my entire family.. everyone from Aunt's to Uncle's.. brothers, sisters and their spouses.. we are all going to hit the pool. I was so happy. I went to bring some muffins to some one's car. I think it was Auntie Fran's.. (yes I know that sounds like I am 3 years old but she has always been my Auntie) I handed her the muffin's and I turned around and everyone was gone. Including my new vehicle which made me go into a major panic attack. My purse and cell phone were in the car. I couldn't contact anyone and the police were less then helpful. Somehow I get sandwiched into a tiny car right between two of the largest men I have ever seen.. and I couldn't remember any one's numbers, so even though the large dudes let me borrow their cell phones I couldn't get a hold of my family.. who were probably wondering where I was.. or enjoying themselves pool side. I was hysterical.

The dream went on and on.. but to spare you the rambling, the best part came at the end.

My sister suddenly showed up. My best friends Randi and Crisinda showed up too.... then suddenly everyone started surrounding me and I started crying.. and yelling at them. All of them. I kept on saying I needed you here with me. I was angry but relieved. I wasn't showing relief at that moment.. I was showing this blistering hot anger and sobbing. No one's faces changed they kept getting closer and closer.. one by one.. Caleb my brother.. Aj my sister-in-law.. Annie my cousin, my Mom and future step-Dad.. until I was the center of this giant circle. It was all people I loved.. but I couldn't calm myself. Why was I even angry? The feeling was raw. I kept spinning around and around until one of my best friends.. Jonna grabbed me and put my face in her hands and said.. "It's a season baby." Then instantly I was somewhere else. Everyone was gone again but there was peace. Real peace. I was done crying and being angry. Gone so suddenly and feeling good so instantaneously that I still remember the feeling right now as I sit here in front of my laptop. I like to think that it is what sick people feel like when they die and go to heaven.

I was guided through this old house.. and someone was following me talking and it was a normal voice it was familiar and I didn't even think twice about it. I didn't think about it when I noticed the old wood carved bowls sitting on the counter that were so familiar to me .. the wicker baskets that hung from the ceiling.. It didn't feel weird to walk into the living room and feel the cold wood floor creak underneath my feet but.. it was familiar. I finally turned around and there he was just standing in front of me like normal.. Healthy and fine.. It felt so good to see him. I cannot explain it. But I didn't think of it as your dead and now your alive. It's like he had always been there.. like I said I cannot explain that feeling of just peace. All I remember next is sitting down and saying..

"How do I do this?"

Do what?? Yes that is my question. Live with out a Dad... I don't know. But that question came out of my mouth so pointedly.

Dad smiled and said. "It's easy.."

I remember talking more, but for some reason I don't remember what was said. I just feel better. I sit here now and a flood of emotion is hitting me because I can now read my dream over and over again and I am getting it. As I anticipate this upcoming Father's day I still am so, so, so lost with out him. I don't need to always put on happy face Renee. My wounds are still healing and I have a lot of scar tissue.

But I have these friends and family that surround me.. and they love me. And I love them, for where ever they are in their lives. We are all in different seasons and I am going to be Ok.. I'm a big strong girl.

To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.
Mary Oliver

How lovely to be a woman..

Song Suggestion: How Lovely To be a Woman by Anne Margret

Grocery shopping can be intense. I usually prefer to go to Super Walmart. It's a busy mom's perfect one-stop-shop. You can get everything you need.. without having to unstrap your child from their car seat and hall them into fifteen different stores. Yes.. I realize I will probably walk out with a scented candle and a cute tank top for the summer... maybe an US magazine and a red bowl.. but you know what?? Sometimes that is OK.

So the other day my little Kendall and I went to Walmart. Kendall LOVES.. loves.. loves Walmart. She decided this last trip that she was old enough to walk in Walmart instead of sit in the cart.. I conceded, no big deal. She is getting older.. it's fun to see her explore her environment.

"Hi lady!!" I hear my daughter say.. she is by the bananas.. I am by the apples.. a good fifteen feet apart.

I stay within distance to watch, but I don't interfere.

"Hows your day today?" I hear Kendall continue..

The lady glances down.. stares at her and turns back around.

Kendall cocks her head.. sticks her finger in one of the bananas.. and smiles.. she tells the lady goodbye.

The lady says nothing.

I fight the urge to tell the lady that she is a rude bitch, and swoop over to give Kendall a big hug and I say.. "I am so proud of you for being so polite.. some people just don't know how to respond to that.." I don't make the lady make eye contact with me.. I am sure she feels silly enough.

"You wanna buy some shoes today Kendall?" I say

Kendall B-lines toward the shoes which both shocked and impressed me. I had no clue she knew where the shoes were.

I let her loose in that isle and watched my baby turn into a girl. A girl who has pretty intense taste. She flew from patent leather peep toes to jellies.. from jellies to flip flops and then to sling backs. I sat and watched.. and giggled and loved.. loved, loved it. She tried size eights on and insisted she was an eight.. when I know she's a size ten. She wanted the yellow peep toe sling backs with a little heel and she was ready to throw fists for them. She found a pair of cute bright pink corduroy baby doll slippers, tore the tag off of them and handed it to me. She then slipped them on, handed me her "old shoes" looked up at me with those big blue eyes and said.. "Mama.. we should get these."

oooooh... I gave her pointers for confidence, Sold.

I don't indulge my kids in this kind of thing often. I don't want them to assume that we can do this every time we go shopping, but every now and then you gotta just splurge.. and let them feel spoiled. It is OK. I hope she remembers that day we tore up the Walmart shoe isle. I spent $20.00 on a few pairs of shoes.. but to me, it was priceless.

Kendall and I ride home.. me with my red bowl and my cute new tank top and her with two fabulous pairs of shoes. We roll the windows down and laugh our buns off at our "crazy hair" that flies around in the wind. It's crazy how a 3 year old little girl makes you love being a woman.

Thank you blue eyes.. you rock my world.

Luuuuuuv Mama.

thank u. :)

Song Suggestions:  Never Alone by Barlow Girl

  I was in a Beth Moore Bible study a few years ago.  One of the things I remember most about that Bible study was in one of the lessons.  But first you need to know that Beth Moore has this INSANE way of reading the Bible. As she reads it you can literally close your eyes and feel like your standing there with Jesus..  as He's.. healing the sick, loving the sick and twisted.. and doing all the beautiful holy things that make him God..  the things that make us trust Him and hope for something better when life down here on earth has.. gone to pot.   

  The thing I remembered?  These are my words not Beth's.. but this is what I personally took from it.  That God is a jealous God.   He really wants us to trust Him and love Him.. He will stop at nothing to make us His.  If we doubt Him in anyway..  He wants us to say it to Him.. Call Him on it. (remember these are my words not Beth's)  Because how do you learn how to trust someone??  They need to prove it to you.  

side note:  I am not trying to come off as preachy.  I am intimidated as hell to talk about God.  I usually do though, because I believe in Him.  

  So when dilemmas come up and things don't make sense to me... I call Him on it.  Usually when I do He turns around and a gives me an answer that makes me feel like a puppy with my tail between my legs.. you know, nose down to the ground making no eye contact.   Can you envision??   But I get my answer.. I usually am humbled and my trust grows for Him.  

   I wrote a post recently called Rotten Lemonade.  I was basically having one of those moments where  I wanted to know where God had been.  I wanted to know what my incentive was.  I was sick of trying and I had sort of hit a spiritual wall.    I was angry and I called Him on it.  It felt good.  It felt good because I knew I was going to get an answer, I always do.  Sometimes.. god forbid.. I have to wait.  But it was worth the wait. 

   So it has been what, a month and a half since the Rotten Lemonade posting.. and this is what He has shown me.. I feel like I need to tell you since I publicly pinned Him to the wall and threatened Him.  

  

  First off.. I can live life without a vehicle.  It sucks.. I am still doing it.  I whine to my friends and coworkers to make myself feel better, they are sick of me I am sure, but they nod and listen to me.. and feel sorry for me, and I feel better.  Since Justin has been my chauffeur I have gotten to spend a little more time with him.. it's actually made us a little closer which is always nice.  I didn't really ask God for any of that but He gave it to me anyway.

   Then we have the whole line in my earlier post where I said.. "I am going to own this moment for what it is.  I am angry.  I am hopeful.  I still trust. I am tired.  I want good, and damn-it I deserve good."     

  You know that line that says "If I knew then what I know now"?     When I had the accident the police never asked me for my license.. never ran my license.  I was unaware that I had let my license expire.  If they would have ran my license..  we would have had no insurance coverage.. aka we would have been screwed.  I found this out 3 weeks later and I was so thankful.. we are so lucky.     Oh and the pay cut that Justin's work decided to give him.. well he has since been promoted.  We didn't even know if he was going to have a job for much longer when I got into the accident we were so stressed and worried.    I just asked God to get us through it..   I guess He must be a bit of an over achiever.. or maybe just a perfectionist..

There are just to many blessing to mention.. but I am so glad I pinned Him to that wall.  I am so glad I called Him on it.  Because in that another lesson was learned...  I handed Him fire and angry words and I questioned Him a bit..  he handed me patience and security, a bit of luck, good friends.. and of course more trust in Him..  A loving God.  A jealous God.. who refocused me.. who centered me and made me realize that I need to be thankful for the things I have.. not concentrate on the things I don't have.

OK..  now it's getting to soupy.. I am not a soupy blogger.  But I was handed something that I felt was undeserved.. and I was angry.  Now I am again handed something that is undeserved.. and I am thankful.. and humbled.  

dear God..

thank you thank you thank you thank you.. thank you.

love Renee

  

Forward Moving.. Always Remembering.

Song Suggestion:  Yesterday by Leona Lewis

  Justin opens the door for me, I walk in and the warm air hits me.  It smells fresh and clean, it smells like paper and office supplies.   I like the smell, I take a deep breath, not because it smells good though, because I am anxious.  

  We walk up to him, he stands tall.  His hair is dark brown and smooth, shiny. He is standing at the front desk.. he knew we were coming.  He has a sharp part in his hair with some sort of cheap gel coating.. I know this because it is flaking a little, salon gel doesn't do that.   I wonder why a man of his stature has cheap gel in his hair.  

"He can afford gel for Christ sake.." I think to myself.

  

 Then I realize I've zoned out completely and I am already frustrated with myself.  I should be in serious mode.  I look at Justin.  My heart beat slows a little,  because Justin makes me feel safe.. then it picks up a few notches when I see the expression on his face.  It's business.  It's 'don't mess with me'.  It's an 'I can make your lip quiver if I want to' expression, it's confidence.  I take an even deeper breath and give a sympathy smile to the man with the cheap gel in his hair.. then I share it with his secretary who is looking at me.. up and down.  She is looking at my hair.. my clothes.. and then glancing over at Justin.  I am suddenly aggravated.  

  The next five minutes were basically a slew of legal jargon bouncing off the chests of two men that both thought they were right.  

  "Yawn"  ... I yawned.  Heart rate has most definitely stabilized.

  In the end my husband walked out with his chest a bit higher..  I glanced behind me as I shut the door to the office and watched the man with the sharp part in his flaky hair smile at his secretary.. looks like things went according to his plan as well.  

  "Weird.. what just happened.. this would have all made allot more sense if I spoke "insurance."  I thought to myself again.

  Justin continues his spiel as we drive away, I nod and try to absorb every bit of information he is offering me, most of which bounces of my chest and flies out the window.  I am trying though.  I remember when Dad died and there was so much for Mom to learn.  I know this sounds a little dark, but I have major anxiety about how I would function if something would happen to him.    There is so much he does.  I need to know it all, I need to know how to change a tire.. how to change the oil.. I need to know about taxes and where is the circuit breaker??  Oh God I need to know where that circuit breaker is...

  "Where is the circuit breaker?!"  I interrupt Justin.

  He sees the panic in my face and doesn't get offended that I have completely tuned out his important insurance spiel.    

   "You OK?"  he answers   "It's downstairs.. you know that."  

  A big smile takes over his face.  

  "Is my princess stressed?"

  "No..  Yes..  I'm fine.  Just.. don't die"..... it comes flying out..   

   His eyebrow raises..  and he gets this sexy little smile, the one where only one side of his lip goes up..  He kisses my forehead and tells me he will try his hardest not to die today.  I feel silly and very young and I give him a hug and tell him I love him.  

   I realize that I cannot control life, I think losing Dad really drilled it into me.  I just know that if I would lose Justin there would be so much undone.  I remember shortly after Dad died I was over at Mom's.  She was having a rough night.  

   We sat by the fire with our glasses of wine.. I knew she probably shouldn't have one because she had already taken her sleeping medication, but I chose not to take the wine from the grieving widow.   After Dad passed Mom would go days without sleeping, the pills helped a little.    I could tell she was relaxing, her body was.  Her mind was still going.. her eyes were raw and glassy she looked tired and old and my heart broke and turned numb as I listened to her say...

   "You spend your whole life living with this person.. being comfortable with this person.. making plans and dreams with this person.  You spend you whole life with this person until one day they are gone and it's all gone... leaving you to spend the rest of your life wishing you would have done more.. and had more time.."

  She fell asleep in the middle of the sentence.. tears streaming down her face.  I wiped them and covered her up with the airplane blanket that Glenda made her.  I took her wine glass and in one swallow finished it for her... then I finished mine.    Gave her a kiss on her forehead and asked God to do something, I had no clue how to pray for her, it was to big, but I knew God knew what I meant.. I left.  What she said was seared into me.  I will never forget it.

  I think that moments like that need to be processed very slowly. Any of us could be gone tomorrow.. today.   I need to take what Mom said.. and appreciate the "now"  that I have with Justin.. but also be aware that one of us most likely will be gone before the other.  Justin says he has to go first.  Wimp.. ;)

   I also need to remember that God answers prayers.  I look at Mom now.. breath taking.  She looks 10 years younger.  She is Mom to me again.  She is Grandma to my kids again.. and now she is going to be a wife to a husband again.  Forward moving... but always remembering.  

  OK.. enough writing.  :)  I am going to go make Brat Soup.. one of Justin's faves.. because you never know, it could be his last meal right?  

xoxo

Renee

    

  

  

  

Perspective

Song suggestion:  Thank You by Dido

Last night I woke up to Kendall coughing.  It didn't really startle me, she has RSV right now and in between getting nebulized, the majority of her day is spent is spent hacking away.  I feel terrible for her, an otherwise bouncing bubbly little girl now mopes around the house.. blanket trailing behind her, eyes glazed over randomly bursting into tears for no reason other then the fact that, in her words,   "I just don't feel great Mama."   

I lay there in bed thinking to myself..  "OK.. if she doesn't stop coughing after this round, I will get up and check on her."   I almost drift off to sleep when the next session begins.  UGHGHG I roll out of bed, my head is throbbing and I know I am getting what Kendall has. I am half asleep and I am dizzy.   I run right into the side of the bed.  It's a sharp edge, and immediately a string of obscenities come flying out of my mouth.  I rub my thigh and glance over at Justin who doesn't even budge.. he's comatose.   I am awake now.  I hear Kendall's cough get increasingly louder and it sounds like one of those coughs that are about to be a little to productive if you know what I am saying.   I reach down and grab the bucket that is conveniently sitting outside the room but when I look up at Kendall, I see something that startles me.   Kendall is sitting up, she looks tired and confused.  She hears me walk in the room and looks up at me, and I see thick red blood all over her hands.   My heart does something I haven't quite felt before.. not with one of my children.   Kendall looks at her hands and her eyes get curious.. and she looks at me.   I have to be calm.  I cannot do what I want to do which is rip her out of her bed and race her downstairs, turn on all the lights and scream bloody murder for Justin.  

  As I get closer I realize it's all over her face, it's all over her pillow, it's matted in her hair.  For a split second I curse at myself for not getting my lazy ass out of bed when I heard her the first time.  

  

  "Mama is going to clean you up baby."  I say.. my everything is numb.  I keep thinking.. I am now going to find out that Kendall has Leukemia or something and I was bitching about us not having a vehicle??  

  "Ok"  she says more in question form.  

   I know I have about 15 seconds before she realizes what is all over her and freaks.  Kendall hates blood.  She cries when I have an ouchy.  I set her on the sink facing away from the mirror and run warm water on a wash cloth.  She wants to look at herself and I just keep talking to her..

  "Did you have a bad dream love?"    I don't even let her answer..  "Mama had a bad dream." 

  I am wiping anything she can see at this point... hands, fingers, arms... trying not to look at her bloody little face because I might break.  I cannot break now.   

  "You did?"  Kendall asks.

   "Yes I did.. I am.. I wish I was I mean.."  I think to myself .. but out loud I say "Yes, baby but everything is going to be just fine."

   I get to her face.. I start gently wiping when I see the source of my nightmare and I smile. 

  "Oh sweetie, your first bloody nose."  

  I break.  I can break now, and I don't care how bloody and nasty that sweet little girls is, I kissed her and hugged her and I broke.  

  I hugged my kids tighter this morning.  I hugged Justin tighter this morning.  I told my mom I loved her, and I said a prayer for my friend who has lost a child, who actually knows the hell that I only can imagine.  

  Thank you Jesus, for Kendall's first bloody nose.  For perspective.  If I must ride around on a Schwinn and wear a matching helmet for the next 5 months I will not complain because I have the most important things I need right here with me.. living and breathing.

Love you,

  Renee

   

   

   

 

  

  

  

Rotten Lemonade

Song Suggestion:  All at Once by  Jack Jonhson

  Justin, Kendall and I are crammed into his truck.  Kendall is busy chatting away.  No worries in the world besides if Linny (Lindsay) her babysitter is going to "take her to nap".    I think to myself how wonderful it must be to have no 'major' worries.    

  I glance over at Justin to see if he is listening to her chat away.. to see what his facial expressions are doing.  I am trying to gage what he is thinking with out having to strike up a conversation because I am not in the mood to talk.  His face is blank.  He is thinking because his brow is furrowed.. then again it is bright out.. maybe he is squinting.  I give up,  I don't feel like thinking either.  I daze off watching the yellow lines on the road streak underneath the car .. one, two, three, four..

  Suddenly he interrupts my thoughts and pipes in with a story that was supposed to be funny. It wasn't.  I was actually more offended by it then anything and I burst into tears.  Justin is horrified.  Kendall stops babbling and looks at me, then promptly yells at Justin... "Thtop making Mommmy Cry!"    Justin is trying desperately to console both of his women but we are both very upset at this point.   

   It was the combination of stress, anger, a poorly timed story with a bad delivery that sealed Justin's tomb.  I tried to explain to him that it wasn't necessarily the story that has made me cry.. 

"It's like when you've had a bad day (sniff) you know (sniff) and you stub your (gasp) toe.. and (sniff) it all comes out and you (snort/sniff) just cry for everything that has happened in the last two weeks... or.. so."   "(sniff)"  

  He nods.

  week one- Justin's work says all company trucks are being taken due to economy

  week two- I total the Explorer...

  week three- Justin's work tells all employees on salary pay that there will be a 5% cut in wages.

  week three 1/2-  the realization the we have gone from having two nice vehicles.. to none.  

  I am frustrated.  I am digging for some sort of answer.  I want to know why this shit keeps happening to Justin and I.  No... I am not frustrated.  I am angry and I want to yell at someone.  I want to pin someone in the corner and I want to take their upper arms in my hands with a painfully tight grip and I want to slam them against the wall over and over and over again until I get an answer.   But I cannot do that to the one I want to do that to.  Because though He is here..  He's being silent.  I have not heard from Him yet.. but I am going to chose to believe that this is just another notch in the wall.  The wall that shows where I was when I was little and how much I've grown since.    I have to believe that there is this  "Plan"  that He has orchestrated and we are not alone in the intensely stressful journey.    

  I am going to own this moment for what it is.  I am angry.  I am hopeful.  I still trust. I am tired.  I want good, and damn-it I deserve good.    

   I watch Justin nod, and I know he knows I have reached my patience limit and it is time to treat me delicately.  He does.  We kiss.. I hop out of the truck and walk into the Hair Clinic.  I go to the bathroom and look at myself.  I cry.  I wipe myself up.. I walk up to the front and invite my client back.  He asks me how I am doing.. I get "good"  half way out of my mouth then retract.  "I am having a horrible day"  I say with a smile.    His eyes get wide..  and we stare at each other and there is a very comfortable silence.  

  When life hands you lemons.. make lemonade.. when your lemonade is rotten.. breath.  Just breath.

   

  

  

  

  

Hand Picked

Song suggestion:   Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce

 

    Look it up anywhere.  Google it.  Read a few books, research it or talk to a counselor.  No matter what you do, you will never find the 'right' answer.    How long does one wait to date after losing a spouse?  There are plenty of suggestions.  People are willing to give their opinions because lets be honest here.. we all really like to give our opinions.  I personally love to give my opinion.  I believe it's a sickness.. loving to give my opinion I mean, but now that were on the subject, I think it's whenever it feels right.  

    My coworker who is my age lost her father a few years before I lost mine.  I think it was a God thing, I got to watch her journey before I even knew of the one that awaited me and my family.  I watched her deal with her Dad's death, I watched her learn to move on and regain a sense of normalcy.  I soaked it in very carefully when she told me her Mom was dating again.  I knew that this may be a possibility and I needed to be ready to deal with this when and if it comes down my path.  I came to the realization about a year ago that I am OK with the idea of my Mom dating. But this man can not be just any regular man.  He has to be something special.    

     I have prayed for my mom to be able to find happiness for a long time.  At first I was not specific in my definition of 'happiness' as I prayed.  I mean.. I am talking to God.  I know that God wants us to be specific in our prayers at times.. but I don't think it's always necessary. Sometimes it's dangerous because it's very easy to get caught up in what we think will make everything better, however.. if happiness meant finding a new best friend, a new love I prayed that God.. and Dad would hand pick this one for Mom.

   People,  tonight I am again so totally aware of God's impeccable timing.  I am so peacefully aware of the mysterious yet specific way He works.   I look back on the nights I would lay in bed next to my husband and all I could think about was the fact that my Mom is laying in bed with out hers. I just wanted her to be happy.  Whatever that would entail.   Tonight I had a late dinner with a Mom who could not stop smiling.   I chatted with a Mom who is incredibly happy. Tonight I sat and listened to a woman who is dipping her toes into the waters of a new journey and loving every second of it.   I watched her as she could barely cover up a smile where only months before it was the total opposite.    

  If I could say one thing to this lovely person that is putting such an authentic smile on my Mom's face.. which I am sure one day I will, It would be that I have prayed for you before there was a 'you', and now that there is a you, I know that there is a God who does answer prayers very specifically.     

Renee

  

    

I-am-happy.

Song suggestion:  I'll fly Away by Jars of Clay and Sarah Kelly

  Lately I have noticed happiness has been sort of seeping back into me.  I haven't dwelt on the last five years of my life as much these past few months.   These days I will be carrying about my normal routine  and suddenly realize, hey I am kind of happy.  I never say it say out loud, I am gun shy I confess.  If I say it out loud, as silly as it sounds, I feel like I will be jinxed.  

  I am not sure really how to grasp the last five years.  Not sure how to document them.    Not sure which memories I want to pick out of each year to keep and which ones I will file in the archives.  Everyday it happens where a memory is triggered and I am taken back to a specific moment.. whether it's good or bad I really don't have much of an option.

  This week I had a very special memory, which was triggered by a song... that started playing as I was thinking to myself..

 "Hey I am not anxious or miserable, I'm not crabby or sad.. I am happy."

  I-am-happy.  Three simple little words that most people take for granted.  I can say that with all respect because I am one of those people.  I was smiling to myself when suddenly Dad's song began to play on the radio.  Normally I get a very tight knot in my stomach when this song plays because I think of Dad's funeral.  It was sung so beautifully, but all I remember is being bent over in the front pew sobbing as quietly as I could, while it was sung.  So therefore.. sadness is what filled me when this song had played on the radio.  

  Not this time though.. this time I smiled and turned it up instinctively which sort of caught me off guard.  As the music got louder suddenly the real memories about this song hit me.   This was me and Dad's song.  It was ours.  

   Dad and I were on our way to Sioux Center to get a DVD player put in his new vehicle.. Justin and I had recently purchased an Explorer that had a DVD player in it.. Dad was jealous and he went out bought himself a new vehicle and had to install a DVD player in it also.  Dad did the same thing a couple years earlier when we bought a black Escape, he went out and got a white one. Mom always got so mad at him!  :)  Ok so where was I... So on our way to Sioux Center my favorite song came on and I cranked it up loud.

 

 "Dad if I die before you I want this song played at my funeral."  I said to him seriously.

 "Nae, when I die this will be played at MY funeral."  he replied.

  I never forgot that moment.  I am not good with exact dates, but I know Dad was aggressively fighting his battle with cancer at the time.  I am not sure how many months later it was, but it was clear that Dad was losing his battle.   I remember Dad, Mom and I had met with a Hospice nurse and she basically told us that within a matter of weeks Dad would be to weak to be doing anything but sleep.  That he would be highly medicated and probably unable to speak and if he did it would require an immense amount of energy.   She was accurate.

  I remember feeling really helpless the week before my Dad died.  He was in pain.  He was suffering, and we had to sit and watch it all.  I racked my mind thinking of special things I could do for him when it hit me.. our song. He can at least listen to music.  I raced to Walmart and bought it and dropped it off at the house then rushed off to work.  My older sister Cora called me crying that night from my parents house.  She asked me if Mom had told me what happened, she told me that Mom kept on trying to put the head phones on Dad.  Dad kept taking them off and shaking his head until Mom said.. 

 "Tom.. Nae got this for you."  

  Dad let her put the head phones on, and mom turned on our song.   Cora and Mom went into the kitchen and peaked around the corner and cried, as they watched him raise his hands in the air and actually attempt to sing along as he cried.   I would rather listen to Dad's version of  "I'll fly Away" any day.  Unfortunately I will have to wait for that.  

  You may think this is a sad memory, but to me it's happy.  It has taken me awhile to find it happy, and this might not make much sense but it's a different sort of happy.  It was this moment my dad and I shared briefly that turned into another moment that Cora and Mom got to share, that turned into a moment that we all shared together as a family at Dad's funeral.   That to me, is a memory worth pulling out of those archives and keeping.