The Choice Is Mine

You should just SEE my bedroom right now. I've discovered that there is something extremely cleansing and refreshing to getting as organized as possible, and starting anew. At least that's what my closets are telling me now that they can actually breathe! When my family arrived before the funeral they started tearing into my closets, in a good way. I would have called myself a pretty organized person before this whole process began. But they take being organized to a whole new level. Since then my Dad has continued the process, and it is fabulous. I do, however, need to have an orientation tour as to the location of any and all items in my house, because I have no idea where they currently are! I have to defer all the girlies' questions as to something's whereabouts to Grandfather, because I have no clue. Actually, there's a funny story about this organizing process I'm undergoing.

When Naki died I was serving as a counselor in our ward's Primary Presidency, and I loved it. I had a thick 3 ring binder that I stored all of my papers and such in and didn't really have a particular place I stored it, but seemed to have it near me whenever I needed it...doesn't sound all that organized, I know, but it worked for me. (Maybe I wasn't as organized as I thought....hmm..)Anyway, as I watched everything unfolding around me for those first couple of days, I kept watching my folder move to a certain location, would make a mental note about it's new wherabouts, then would see it reappear in a new location, and make a mental note about it's new new wherabouts, and so on and so on. The last location I remembered was on one of the shelves in the garage. When the decision became clear to me that I needed to be released from serving in that calling, I knew I would need that folder to pass on to whomever would be replacing me.

I. Could. Not. Find. It.

I mean, absoLUTElycould not find it. My Dad and I searched the entire garage, all the containers on the new beautiful shelves in the garage, searched all the bedrooms, all the bookshelves, cars, filing cabinets, and even under all the beds, couches and in the closets. I mean, we searched everywhere! No luck. Several days came and went and I found myself still looking for it in vain on Saturday. If you remember, Saturday was Halloween, the day all the BYU students came over to stain the fence and help touch up the paint on the house. As I saw all those adorable faces serving my sweet little family, I knew just what Naki would do if he was here. There is no way he would have all those people at his house, serving and helping him, without feeding them. Even if all we had was water and I would make some cookies, or we would make some sandwiches, something. He would feed them something. I of course cheated a bit, and decided to call and order some pizza. C'mon. I may have some good moments, but there is no way I'm up to baking any cookies these days. I remembered where the phone books were being kept, in a little cupboard under the counter where the stools sit in the kitchen. As I opened up the cupboard, I heard the "Ahhhhh" angelic sounds and I swear there were heavenly beams of light surrounding my Primary folder, which was sitting exactly on top of the phone book. In no way did I find it coincidental that in order to find something that was important to me, I first needed to serve others in a way that was true to what Naki has taught me.

So right now I'm sitting on my bed, looking around my room and shaking my head. This was one of the places that was originally off limits when they started organizing. It's the room Naki died in...it's my personal space, and I wasn't ready to have people trooping in and out of there. It's where the girlies and I came up to have some peace and quiet and watch College Roadtrip together...the movie that Naki watched with the girls during their slumber party that we as a family had made plans to watch together the day he died. It wasn't until I'd seen how wonderful it feels to have all the other spaces in the house cleaned and reorganized that I realized I was ready to tackle my closet. Not his closet; I'm not ready for that, yet. Just my closet. Oh, my poor closet. It holds clothes from high school years, clothes from maternity years, clothes in a wide range of sizes, clothes that I hoped to someday wear, etc. etc. I started to clean it out today and got interrupted so many times, whether for the girls dance classes, baths, lovely visitors, or whatever, it just didn't get done. It literally looks like a bomb went off in here and my closet exploded. But I knew that I had to get some of my thoughts written in here before my poorly functioning mind was filled with the next days thoughts.

As I wrote earlier, last night was a doozy. I seriously thought to myself, "Pull it together, Abby...your strange crying sounds slash can't breathing sounds slash hiccuping sounds are going to wake everyone up, for heaven's sake". I barely got myself together and laid my head on my pillow when Ane woke up and needed a bottle. Shortly after I got her into bed Eva came up to sleep with me, as she had been doing when Naki died and has been doing since then, too. I can't recall if I've written about her behavior in here or not, but seeing her act the way she has makes me so frustrated, because it is so not her little self. She has been beligerant, mean spirited, defiant, yet cuddly, clingy, silly, and giggly, too. Such a contradiction. It's clear the poor baby is terribly confused. But the one thing she's never really done is admit that she's sad. It finally came out last night. She would wrap her little chubby arms around my neck as we were laying side by side and as tears were streaming down her cheeks she just kept saying in my ear between sobs, "I miss Dad, Mom. I miss Dad." This went on for quite some time. There is just nothing I can say to that except that I miss him too, Eva. And go ahead and cry about it. In those moments I try to reassure her that I love her, her Dad loves her, and Heavenly Father loves her, too. On one of the days within the first week that he died, I remember tucking her in for her nap. I was cuddling with her and just kept telling her how much I loved her. She was being silly and kept repeating me but with a question. "Mommy loves Me?" and I'd say yes baby, Mommy loves you. She mimicked me in a silly way and I responded the same way. This happened several times, until all of a sudden she got still, and in a quiet and an unsure voice asked me, "Does Daddy love me?" It just broke my heart, because it had never occurred to me that perhaps she had thought that because he was gone, it somehow reflected on how he felt about her, at least in her little thought process. I tried my best to reassure her that her Daddy loved her So very much. She thought for a minute, and as if to make sure we were talking about the same person, she asked me, "Naki love me?". Now, I do not believe that God leaves his little babies comfortless, but it is so hard to see them in the middle of this process. These girls are and will continue to be fiercely strong faithful women, I have no doubt. It just breaks my heart to see them experiencing something so difficult that I believe will contribute to their future strength.

After such a rough rough night, I didn't think I had the strength for the gym. But it's a committment to myself to go if I can, that I'm not willing to break, no matter how tired. I know my mental cycle very well, and if I could have gone but didn't and wimped out somehow, I find myself dissatisfied with my choice and not as mentally and emotionally strong for the remainder of my day. But I went...this was the first day that I walked into the gym already crying. I had to get my act together, and quick. Those moments are hard. Many people, including myself, believe that in order to heal you need to own your feelings and your emotions. But sometimes your location is not conducive to that process. I walked into the Cardio Cinema room, my workout room of choice. I can run forever if I'm watching a good movie! Wouldn't you know, I walked into the room right at the end of Marley and Me, when they're burying their beloved pet, Marley. Now, I know, the dog is just an actor and so is everyone else, but it really didn't help my situation. The last thing I need is to fall off the treadmill while crying...now THAT's a pretty picture...and I know because I once fell off the treadmill that I used to have upstairs in my bedroom. Different situation that I won't go into because it's so humiliating, but really...no one needs a repeat experience of that. I can't remember how many times my body and my head bounced on the speeding treadmill, but it was awkward looking, I'm sure, and really quite painful. So I decided in order to avoid a repeat performance I'd emotionally distance myself for a bit and get through the workout. I'm proud of myself to be able to say that I did something hard that I didn't want to do...

Some time ago I remember sitting in church during Sacrament Meeting and clearly remember our Bishop standing up and commenting to the congregation about being careful and selective about what content you chose to post on your blog. I'll always remember that...for that particular reason I never blogged about my crazy bra shopping experience. I'm saying this because I'm not sure, but I think there are a lot more people reading this than I think, and not only women but men are reading, too. (Which I secretly love...I always wished that more people read our family blog...just 'cuz I was such a proud mama and, well, just 'cuz.) Anyway, I've been trying to follow that council the best I could through out this entire process thus far. But I've realized that ultimately I am writing my thoughts as a form of therapy for myself, and maybe, just a little bit for others as well. It would be incomplete without some of my experiences and thoughts, and so am taking this opportunity to notify any readers that you have my sincerest apologies if any of the content may offend. It is not my intent, at all, but is to aide in my healing process. I'd like to get said process on the track to completion as soon as possible!

All married couples know that using birth control is a personal choice. Naki and I have made several different choices over the years. I know this may come as a shock considering we had 6 kids in 9 years! But it became ultra clear to us after this last baby that we were not to have any more children. I can't tell you what kind of peace that brings me at such an awful time...a feeling of calm comes over me every time I think about that personal bit of revelation that came to both of us at seperate times. I would feel so robbed, even more than I already do, if I thought for a minute that he was taken from me before we were able to have all of our babies here with us. Because of those strong feelings that we both had we decided after delivering Ane that we would try a form of birth control called an IUD, an Intrauterine Device. This is another topic for another day on a more personal level for anyone who feels comfortable enough talking to me about it, but I have learned much from that choice, good and bad. About 3 months ago I decided to have it removed due to complications. The earliest appointment they had available for that kind of procedure was today, November 5th. It seemed so far away at the time but these kind of struggles put time in a whole new perspective. I remembered my appointment last week and realized that I would have had to schedule the procedure anyway, and felt so mad and angry about that. I can't explain it, and it doesn't even make sense to me and I'm the one experiencing the emotions! But as I went in for the procedure today it was heartbreaking to me to realize that I won't be having any more of his babies. That just tore my heart right out of me. I was a bit snappy at some of the nurses who didn't know me, I think. Poor things. But really, when they asked me if there was any family history of heart disease, I was finished. Any time I hear anyone talking about hearts I have a hard time with my emotions. I had to turn some of those emotions off just to get through it. It felt different making the decision on my own that I wasn't going to have any more babies rather than having the decision somewhat made for me. It makes me feel powerless and small. How dare the choice to be involved in something so immortal and monumental as creating and bearing a child be taken away from me? And why do I feel this way when I had already made that decision for myself? That appointment was draining...

I returned home in time to get the girlies out the door to take Lose to dance class. While I was there a beautiful woman I've always thought adorable stopped me and introduced herself. She mentioned to me that our girls' dance instructor had thought that we should meet each other and visit about our circumstances. Her husband died in a tragic car accident about 8 months ago. What a refreshing opportunity to talk to someone who already knows the emotions I'm feeling and can't always put words to. I've been blessed with some very very dear friends in my ward who have had the difficult opportunity to be faced with grief in their own lives, and they have been irreplaceable in my own grieving process. But it was interesting to visit with someone else who'd also lost a husband. If there is anything I've learned it's that everyone's grief experience is their own experience...no two are alike. Your emotions are yours and you don't have to grieve like anyone else does. While I was talking to her I told her that I'd decided that there is no way I am going to lay down and give in to the darkness that grief can strangle you with. I refuse. It reminded me of a poem that a friend had brought by earlier today. It is called "The Choice is Mine" by Iris Bolton.

I don't know why.
I'll never know why.
I don't have to know why.
I don't like it.
I don't have to like it.
What I do have to do is make a choice about my living.
What I do want to do is accept it and go on living.
I can go on living.
Valuing every moment in a way I never did before.
Or, I can be destroyed by it and, in turn, destroy others.
I thought I was immortal,
That my family and my children were also,
That tragedy happened only to others.
But, I know now that life is tenuous and valuable.
So I am choosing to go on living;
Making the most of the time I have;
Valuing my family and friends in a way never before possible;
The choice is mine.