Church

Four years ago Sean and I left our old church.  The split was painful and disillusioning.  I thought I would be serving the Lord with these people for a very long time.  Words like "respect" and "offense" were carelessly thrown about.  It's difficult to reconcile the walk not lining up with the talk. 

To me, church is a place where you can take a deep breath.  A place that represents the unconditional love that Jesus is.  Now, I know people get in the way, I really do.  But, it's supposed to be a place where people treat you differently.  It's meant to be a safe harbor of sorts. 

Fast forward to the present day.  Sean and I in choosing a church picked the polar opposite of where we had just left.  Where it was once tiny, now it's large.  It's kind of easy to get lost in.  And that's just what we did for three years.  But, God slowly started to lead the way and we started serving in small ways.  Then Sean's illness came along.  And people really rallied to our side.  People in that church called me and sat with me and pulled me through. 

That help was probably never more prevalent until the day I moved.  I felt unprepared and overwhelmed.  It was such a big undertaking for me to do alone.  But, alone was NOT what I was that day.  What was the weirdest thing was that people seemed to do it with a joyful heart.  I don't think I saw a single eyeroll or heard a sigh in frustration.  They showed up.  They came with strong backs and laughter and they reached out to someone who utterly could not do ONE thing for herself that day.  And, to me, there was church service that day.    

Now my only problem is really how to thank them.  They will never know how very much I appreciated that my bed and those of my children were made, my kitchen was put away, furniture was moved and moved again, that whenever I said, "Have you seen my children?" someone always had.  My pantry is stocked and organized and whenever I go in there, I think, "that's exactly where I would have put that."  When I think back to that day, my heart gets full and it's something I won't soon forget. 

They were literally His hands and feet that day.  It didn't matter that we didn't meet in a building, that a collection wasn't raised, that worship songs weren't sung, He was praised.  And I'm just so glad I got to be a part of that. 

I bought a house

The inspections are done, the paperwork is completed, in ONE WEEK I will be a homeowner.  I am 40 years old and I have never owned my own little corner of the world.  People say I'm amazing.  I think they're a little crazy.  To me this is survival.  It's amazing what you can do when you have little choice.  People say they couldn't do what I'm doing.  I think they're wrong.  When your kids are at stake and when you HAVE to have their best interests at heart, the big girl pants have to come on. 

People say to me that this is exciting.  It is.  But it's all really scary and really sad and really emotional.  It's hard for me to leave this house because it's where Sean took his last breath.  It's scary because a day will come when water will leak, furnaces will have trouble, toilets will overflow and there will be no one to turn to.  The big girl pants will have to get thrown on then too.

But, I'll get to paint a wall.  I have never in my life gotten to do that.  I'll get to pick out the color all by myself.  I got to buy furniture that I like.  I have literally never bought a dining room table before and now I have.  One time my real estate agent said to me, "You know, you could take this carpet out and have hardwood floors here."  Gosh, I could, couldn't I?   

The one thing that drives me on is my children are watching.  I don't want them to drown in grief.  I want them to take those moments when the pain hits and cry really hard but when their ready to run, I tell em to run.  I laugh with them, I play video games with them.  Life is meant to be lived, the hard times as well as the good.  And I know deep in my heart that Sean would be pleased with that.  He wouldn't want me to sit in a corner all day.  So, I bought a house.

So, as literally and figuratively, one door opens while another closes, I will have a tear in my eye, a smile on my face and a lump in my throat.

This Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has always been a really special time for me.  Even as a child, I loved the smells, the family gathered around the table, even all the work the day requires.  As a young adult, Thanksgiving took on a brand new meaning for me because that is the day I met Sean.  We have one of those ridiculously romantic stories where he looked at me across the room and thought to himself, "I'm going to marry that girl." 

Huh?

Truth be told, I've always been a little spoiled in the love department.  I met him when I was so young - I was only home from college for 6 months.  I was 22 and I got to love him for 17 years.  All of my adult life so far. 

When he was sick, he had this wonderful home health aide.  I've ashamed that I can't remember her name but we had a conversation that will stick with me forever.  Little rabbit trail: you tend to get to know the people who become part of the daily fabric of your life and she was no exception.  She was absolutely wonderful, she even washed Sean's hair a day before he died.  I actually told her that wasn't necessary, that she surely had another appointment to get to, but she insisted.  She was tall, she was lovely in her own way, her quiet demeanor and peacefulness only added to that.  She was extraordinary at her job and she had told me once in passing that she was married for 17 years and that she was divorced.  She spoke so lovingly of her parents and never mentioned children and I just knew not to ask.  Well, one day she sat at the table with me and told me what a good job I was doing with Sean.  That the love that we shared was beautiful and rare and that she didn't see it everyday.  Then she said something that completely stunned me.  She said, "I have never been loved like you are." 

I was speechless.  She was married.  Now, I'm not naive enough to think that every marriage is made of rainbows and lollipops but she was married and she had never been loved like me.  And it just made me want to hug her.  But, she taught me a valuable lesson and I can't help but remember her words this year.  I'm really going to try to remember how blessed I am that an extraordiary person loved me and he liked me and he protected me.  I wish that I could have had a thousand more years with him.  I really do.  But I'm going to look back at the 17 years, look at our two beautiful children and say thank you. 

Today I am feeling discouraged.  I set a goal for myself this month that I would exercise every day and that I would drink less soda.  I haven't really done either one.  Soda is really the root of all evil in my world.  It's the one thing that I just love to consume.  The thing that gives me the most comfort in the food arena.  It's truly like a drug for me.  There's this blog that I've been following and this girl is doing great.  She's lost 47 pounds since January of this year and she's done it all with Weight Watchers and discipline.  That's something that I sorely lack.  Every day I half want to stand up and cheer for her and punch her in the nose at the same time because she is doing something I can't.  (kidding...)  

I do great for about a week and then I fall off the wagon so far I can barely see it!  I pay for Weight Watchers every month and don't use it.  I just bought 4 more 12-packs of Pepsi this morning (on sale at least).  I have a treadmill that I've been using spotty at best.   

And now we're moving and it's all on me.   And to me it just feels like another excuse.  I know, I know.  I've lost Sean.  I need time to take time to heal from that and mourn.  I just feel myself on a slippery slope that I need to get off of.  I just found a Scripture that I love - "Therefore, prepare your minds for action; be self-controlled; set your hope fully on the grace to be given you when Jesus Christ is revealed."  1 Peter 1:13

This weight for me is not just this weight.  It's something much deeper.  It's years of being self-indulgent.  And it's something that I absolutely have to get a hold of.

Ethan Zohn

Ethan Zohn's cancer has returned.  For anyone who doesn't know he was the winner of Survivor years ago and one of the notable things about that is that not a single vote was cast against him to be voted out.  Ever.  That's pretty unheard of in the cutthroat world of Survivor.  He must be quite a man. 

Anyway, back to cancer.  The thing about this disease is it doesn't matter how popular or nice you are.  He was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma a couple of years ago and it went into remission and in September he found out it was back.  I saw this picture of him and his girlfriend, Jenna, just before he ran the New York Marathon.  I literally could not stop looking at it. 



Now, I can't relate to the struggles that he is going through, but her - she's a different story.  Everything that I have read about her, she loves him.  And there is nothing more heartbreaking to see the man you love, who is larger than life as I'm sure he is to her, throw up in a bucket.  To take a short walk and be winded.  To crumble in front of you.  I know, I've been there.  And even though, I'm  not them I know a little bit how that feels.  I really wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  I look at this girl in this picture and she looks dazed, like the mack truck called cancer just backed up in her driveway and dumped out all its garbage on her doorstep. 

Confession time: sometimes, during very dark times, I think I failed Sean and I think God took him early because of me.  I could not do what she is doing.  Ethan's cancer went away for 20 months.  For 20 months.  I imagine all kinds of plans were made, how jubilant they must have felt, how she might actually have taken a deep breath.  I don't know that I could have waited for the other shoe to drop, to always feel like I had to look over my shoulder to see if cancer was catching up with us.  I just don't know that I could have lived through that constant fear and waiting.  Now I know that God's timetable doesn't revolve around me and Sean's life was written long before I came along.    But, in the dark times - I think.

But, this girl.  She's someone you want in your corner.  If I met her today I would hug her so tight and I would tell her how hard I am praying for her.   How at the lowest times of our lives, the ones who surround us the best - those are the ones.

Another day down

It's true how you can be in a room filled to the brim with people and still feel utterly alone.  I feel like that a lot lately but not any time more than on Halloween night.   I went to a wonderful friend's house and there were lots of really wonderful people there but I was painstakingly aware that every single person who came through the door was part of a pair.  I think it's because I remember last Halloween a little too vividly.  Sean had just gotten released from the hospital a few hours before trick-or-treating time and he insisted on joining us.  He was gaunt, he was wearing a borrowed jacket that in better day he would have filled out but now hung loosely in all the wrong places, he looked scared.  I remember looking at him and thinking that he already looked like he was so close to death.  I was so proud of him that day because he truly exemplified love.  He should have been grouchy, who would have blamed him.  He should have gone home, gotten in bed and pulled the covers up.  But, not my Sean.  He was dying of cancer, he was in horrible pain but yet he loved his little boys enough to sacrifice all that to watch them have fun.  I don't think Halloween will ever be the same for me.   

And so I can say that I survived. I made it through another milestone without him.  And whether people held my hand or tried to ignore the tears, it doesn't really matter.  Because grief feels to me like I am clawing to survive just one more minute, one more hour, one more day without him. 

I just miss his voice.  I can't really think too hard about the fact that I won't ever hear it again.  The way he used to know exactly the right thing to say at just the right moment.  How I didn't have to explain everything to him.  How I used to be able to step into his arms, take a deep breath and know deep in my heart that everything was going to be okay.  Sean used to look at me a certain way and I just knew that he loved me. 



There is somedays when I feel like the weight of the loss of him could only be likened to an elephant sitting on my chest.  I literally have to try to catch my breath.  And I'm glad that when I don't have any idea what to do next, my only choice can be to take another breath.

A piece of land

I have long wanted to own my own little piece of America.  A place where I can (finally!) choose a paint color, a place to put my feet up and rest, a place to call my very own. 

It's starting.  And here it is:



She's a beauty and it looks like she might be ours.  I'm scared, terrified, overjoyed.  I just can't wait to not have a landlord anymore.  It's time to grow up and I feel like this house is one more step in that direction.  It's so scary because it's my name on the mortgage.  It's scary because the agent kept saying, "you can do this" or "you can do that" and I thought, "I really could if I wanted to". 


The owners have signed and the paperwork started today.  The only thing to do right now is wait and start packing.