Another Difficult First

Shortly after Naki died so many people told me that once I got through all the 1sts, you know, the first Anniversary, Death Anniversary, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays, baptisms, etc etc, then it would get easier. I believe them and have actually felt that in certain areas of my life. Maybe I wouldn't categorize those things as easier but just not as awful. I have hope that they will continue to improve in their outlook. However, I never anticipated that there would be so MANY firsts...firsts that I didn't even originally place in such a category. It feels like just when I overcome a challenge of a first, that another one looms ahead of me.

Tonight was a landmark first. It was our first softball game without Naki. It may seem silly, but to me it isn't. Naki was always participating in some sort of sport to keep himself active. A couple of years ago his older brother convinced us all to sign up to be on the first Maile Softball Team in the city non-competitive league. It has evolved since then, and I think this year there are two coed non-competitive teams and one competitive men's team. Naki lives! for those games. He absolutely loves them. What a goober...sometimes, if he had the time, he'd even do a pre-game bath. He's probably rolling his eyes at my spilling his secret, but the man loves a good relaxing bath. I'd be busy doing something and would be surprised to hearthe tub running in our bathroom. Afraid one of the girls had started it, I'd run up only to have him remind me, "Babe, I have a game tonight..." Of course there wasn't always time, but if he could squeeze one in, believe me he would.

I knew that it was absolutely important to continue to attend the games. Besides the fact that I love watching these guys play, it is essential that the girls feel that consistency between the days when Dad was alive compared to their days without him. Yet I knew it would be a painful first for me. How could I not go but yet, how could I go? Another first that I didn't ever want to deal with. But I'm relieved to say that we went, and they came home just as dirty and happy as we always did. The girls had a blast, we had crazy dirty feet and grouchy kiddos from the late hour, but it was worth it to me to see them content with something that feels so familiar.

When we eventually decided to leave the game tonight it was because Eva had had a bathroom accident...again. This past week she's truly regressed. I shouldn't be surprised. The therapists told me when we very first started therapy that some kiddos don't even begin to completely deal with their grief until about 6 months after the incident. Bingo. It's been almost exactly 6 months...just a bit over. At first I thought that out of all the kids she struggled so openly, which I equated with dealing with her grief. In actuality, it was confusion and anger she was dealing with initially, and now she is starting to grieve the reality of Dad not returning. As she hits different stages developmentally, and not just her but all of them, they will revisit their grief. It will mean different things to them at those different stages of their development.

She and I had this conversation the other day:

Eva: Where IS Dad, Mom?

Mom: Remember? Dad is dead.

Eva: But where is he?

Mom: He is in Paradise, Baby. He's in the Spirit World...

Eva: Is he in that house over there?...pointing to a house we were driving by...

Mom: No, Eva...

Eva: Is he in that one over there? ...pointing to a different house...

Mom: No, Eva...

Eva: Is he at the store?

Mom: No Baby...He's with Jesus.

Eva: But where is Jesus? Is he with Santa Claus?


Oh, Eva...to her Jesus is just as mythical as Santa Claus. And why wouldn't he be? How could any of this possibly make any sense to her? So, I am not surprised to see her going backwards again in her potty training as she struggles to try to work through her grief.

I may have or may have not mentioned in here her struggles with food. It's actually getting a bit better these days. But it was getting really quite difficult. Any sign of a meal and she'd run off. She would claim an upset stomach, or her favorite out was that she was tired. She'd actually lay on her bed and not move a muscle as long as I didn't make her come and eat. We're working on this still, with some help from her therapists and a book I'm reading. (I'm feeling like I may have mentioned this already...sorry if this is a repeat.) As I talked it through with her therapists I felt a bit like a dolt for not recognizing the root of her difficulty. Eva's therapist looked at me and simply asked, "Did you eat dinner as a family? Was Naki home to eat dinner with you?" Why yes, yes he was. Duh. How more obvious of a setting could there be that he was gone than at church, which we already know is difficult, and now at meal time.

As we drove up to the fields tonight for the softball game, I only had the two babies in the car with me. I had just returned from dropping Malia off at dance class, and the others were already at the fields with their Auntie from a cousin's previous soccer game. I could feel myself going downward...I had actually felt it the minute we arrived at the field for my nephew's game. I wanted so badly to run the complete opposite direction, and felt such pride in myself to see my feet continue to move in the direction I knew they should. So as I pulled into the parking lot from dropping Malia off, I turned the car off and asked the two little munchies if they could wait a minute while Mommy said a prayer. Tell me, since when does a 3 year old and a 20 month old sit still quietly for several minutes while their Mom is pleading for assistance? I felt so heard as I was able to speak to my Heavenly Father for the strength I needed to make it through yet another draining and painful first. I also asked for the extra energy I knew I would need for when it was all over and bathtime with grouchy kids was impending. When I'm feeling down, sadly, I find myself speaking shortly and curtly with the girls. I feel awful even admitting that. It was such a relief to not even feel tempted to be impatient with them tonight. I know that my prayer was heard, without any question, and that the Lord picked up tonight where I left off.

I even had a moment where I was able to laugh. On the nights when his games were finished at the same time that the kids' and mom's patience were finished, and we had both cars at the fields, how we loved racing home. Sometimes we would take the same route, but most times we would take different routes to see who would make it home first. Or more accurately, we would race to see who pulled into the garage first. We'd trade who would be driving which car. I remember one night playing a trick on Naki...he was in the lead, and had opened his garage door and was about to pull in. But the garage door opener I have in my car has different controls than his does. Coming up behind him, I pushed a button that started to close his and open mine. I can still hear the squeals of glee from all the girls at the thought of outsmarting him. It so rarely happens, you know. And then even after a full day's work, and sometimes more than one game, he'd kick off his shoes and work side by side with me to get all the girls bathed and in bed.

Moments of reflection and memories that rise to the surface due to experiencing another difficult first are indeed a blessing. I love remembering specific events, sounds, and facial expressions that otherwise I can't pull out of my memory. For that at least, I have a difficult first to thank.