Surprise of the Day

Last night turned out to be an interesting one. Eva decided unbeknownst to us or her, I'm sure, to share whatever bug she had the other night with three of her other sisters. They all decided to let me know they were feeling uckky simultaneously. Well, technically, Ane fell back asleep after she threw up, but the other two were up all night, moaning and groaning, heaving and hurling, and were very unhappy about the entire situation. Grandfather was especially concerned about Ane being sick again in her bed and perhaps something going terribly wrong in the process and so decided to set up camp outside her bedroom door on the floor. I'm sure it couldn't have been all that comfortable. I set up camp in the living room, but really didn't sleep and spent most of the night rubbing backs and trying my best to comfort and reassure them. I felt so terrible for my babies! Who likes to throw up? They have been trying to recover throughout the day today. Eli seems to be doing the best out of all three...we'll see what kind of night we have tonight. As a result of being sick, Lose missed her first ever Halloween Costume parade that the school has every year. She was, needless to say, very very bummed. She and I are both hoping that she can get feeling better so that she can have her game face on for tomorrow's trick or treating marathon.



What is it about Halloween? I'm just not a big fan. I don't think I ever have been. I was trying to describe it to some friends today while Eva and I were waiting for the parade to begin. I think I dislike it so much because it puts me in the situation of trying to create something, specifically the costumes, out of nothing. I'm just not creative in that way. It's not just that I can't think of how to portray a certain costume, but I struggle to think of what costumes to do at all! Add to that my desire to make sure that the girls always like whatever costume we can come up with and that they don't feel that they don't have a good costume because we don't go out and buy them, and it just gets a bit draining for me. It's one of those things that I'm always grateful is over.


The one thing, and possibly the only thing, that I do like about this holiday is the pumpkin carving. I'm not sure why I like it, but I do. Well, I suppose that's not entirely accurate. I like making sure that my kids get to do it, and I love the way it smells, and the way the light shines out of them when they're finished, but I don't actually enjoy the carving. Naki and I had a great arrangement that we perfected over the years. He would help the kids figure out what design they wanted, help them get said design onto the pumpkin, and would help get all the carving done. I, meanwhile, would be making the caramel apples covered with milk and white chocolate drizzles. Wait a minute...no wonder I love this part of the holiday. It's because I don't have to do it and it gets done! I enjoy the tradition of it and the nostalgia it holds for me, the fact that Naki loves doing it with them, I enjoy eating the treats, but most of all I enjoy that it all gets done and I don't have to do any of the work! Luckily my earthly angels came to my rescue tonight. My sister Connie and her husband Steve came down from Nevada tonight with their kiddos and with their efforts and my Dad's incredible cutting and clean up duties, together they got it done. Check. Cross it off of my list. I wanted to make sure that it got done, even though I really didn't want to do it. The Grief Therapist told me that one of the worst things I could ever do right now for the kids would be to remove the traditions that they hold dear. Those traditions are linked in their hearts and minds to their Dad.

I thought we'd made it through another Dadless experience, much like the pumpkin picking, without any difficulty. But we had a grieving moment, Line and I. She was having parental listening troubles and we were discussing that. It became clear to me that it had much less to do with where she was getting dressed after her shower, or whether or not she'd brushed her hair. She was able to express to me that she is having much trouble finding any type of joy in any of her life right now. Not just in these traditions we're trying to continue, but in her day to day actions as well. She just said that more than anything she just wants him to hold her, to talk to her, and to tell her the things she needs to hear from him. I told her that no one expects her to find joy in the fact that her Dad is gone and that we all want those things from our Dad and that it's not even remotely realistic for her to expect to feel joyfull as a result of his death. It is, however, realistic to expect that you will someday experience joy despite his death. Naki is a down to earth kind of guy, and so I was always surprised when he would tell me about the impact that your positive thoughts can have on your life...kind of like karma, I guess. I tried my best to pass this belief of his on to Line...that she can be sad. That's okay. But she has to remember that in order to grow and to move on with the expectation of happiness and joy in her life she needs to continue to hope for it, and have a positive outlook on just the possibility and her desire to have joy. It reminds me so much of Alma 32: 27 in the Book of Mormon. As a matter of fact, she and I read that scripture together earlier this week.

"But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even unil ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words."

This sweet girl is struggling...as I'm sure all of them are. She just has never possessed the ability to withhold her thoughts and feelings...they're all right there on her sleeve. I can't wait for Grief Therapy to start...we start attending weekly on the 12th of November. I feel very strongly about the good that grief therapy will do for our little family. I CAN'T WAIT to get started.

Grief is filled with the "expecteds" and the "unexpecteds". I have to tell you. One of the most disturbing unexpecteds I've encountered thus far is the amount of people, mostly complete strangers, who feel entitled to counsel me in a disturbing and quite frankly disrespectful way. I have lost count of how many people have told me not to worry about being alone, because with my young age and good looks (who knew) I won't be alone for long because I'll be swooped up and remarried in no time at all. Really, people. The only reason I haven't taped their mouths shut is because I know that they mean it in the kindest way they know how. I see it like this. A. They feel so badly for me. B. They feel awkward and uncomfortable and are completely unsure about what to say. C. They themselves would never want to be widowed and alone for the rest of their lives. and D. They just plain don't think before they speak. (I had to add D because that's been me on a number of occasions, and I feel for others who are like me.) For reasons A thru D, I feel more badly for them than I do for me. I have, however, learned what to say. When they tell me not to worry, I won't be alone for long, I tell them that my husband was the first person to ever make me feel beautiful and I prefer to be alone than to try and replace that. Or I tell them that I actually like to be alone because the thought of being with anyone other than my Baby makes me nauseous. Or I tell them that no man could ever replace my girlies' Dad in their or my heart. Or I ask them if they want me to hold my palm out so they could possibly read the rest of my future for no charge. Okay, so I don't actually say any of those things. But really, why do people feel so entitled to give me advice like that? I wonder often if they can actually hear themselves. But, I remember many times when friends of mine were grieving from a loss and I myself just didn't know what to say to them, and I so desperately wanted to say something that would appease just a portion of their pain. So I've chosen to believe, out of the goodness of my heart, that these poorly informed people just want to help me feel better. I just smile and graciously say "That's so kind of you.." and leave it at that. See how wise and nice I can be?

Yesterday I had an appointment with the Social Security offices, which went smoothly, by the way. On my way there I got a call from a friend who I'm learning I have more and more in common with. She lost a baby about 5 years ago and has been so helpful for me throughout the last 2 weeks. She was telling me about how some days you sail right through and others you encounter a "Surprise of the Day". She'd discovered that there were moments when her emotions would catch her off guard. Those emotions and whatever triggered them were called the Surprise of the Day. I loved what she calls those moments. I told her I was going to start using that. I quickly thereafter received my Surprise of the Day. I was sitting in my Social Security appointment, waiting while the employee helping me was entering all of our applications for benefits. I started scrolling through my text message conversations to see which I could delete, which numbers I didn't have programmed into my phone, etc. Imagine my shock when as I was scrolling through I came unexpectedly on the last conversation, through text messages, that Naki and I had with each other. As I sat there at the desk across from this sweet little helper, I read the words "On my way home..." with his name right beside it. It so caught me off guard that tears started to roll down my cheeks. Poor little Angie, or maybe it was Ashley, my assigned worker, didn't know what to do with me. I found it so fitting that the last thing he said to me, through text, the night before he died, was that he was on his way "home". Can't wait to be home with you, Naki. Love you and miss you.