Ginny and I watched a new television series called Who Do You Think You Are last night, two separate episodes. Ironic, I know, since I just wrote the other day about how there isn't anything on television that keeps my attention these days. But this show strikes something within me...the connection between us and our dead loved ones seems so close and strong after years of feeling such an abstract connection to my ancestors. It's easy to see why I'm interested...wanting to connect with my deceased family members. I replay over and over many different scenarios in my head of my highly anticipated reunion with my loved one. After watching this show the reality of how closely tied we are to those who seem so long gone has struck me strongly. I would like to be able to know the names and what my connection to them is of my family members that I will get to meet someday. We are connected. I need to get started on my family history.
One of the episodes traced someone's slave ancestors through Alabama, Virginia, and eventually back to Africa. The other episode traced someone's Jewish ancestors back to Poland. It was so difficult and heartwrenching to somewhat relive the history of two separate eras filled with such hate and discrimination. The horrific treatment of the Jews by the Nazis and the slaves by their owners was thought provoking and Ginny and I questioned how humans could treat other humans with such lack of honor and just basic respect. We reached some conclusions, the main idea being that in both situations people were able to motivate other people to act in a manner previously inconsistent with their nature by instilling fear in them. Their reasons for fear may differ, but fear is often the base emotion that brings out the devilish thoughts and actions in humans.
Today my therapist and I were discussing a sweet boy who was born with a physical defect and about how he is beginning to experience a bit of teasing from other children. "Why does that happen? Why do children do that to other children? In what way could they possibly benefit from picking on another boy or child that has done nothing to them but be different?", I asked him.
"Fear", was his response.
All the puzzle pieces fit smoothly and true in position in my mind and heart as a bigger understanding within me began to emerge. I could see the truth in his answer. We all do things that we wish we could redo...whether it was act under peer pressure for fear of not being accepted, not apply for a job for fear of rejection, not try something hard for fear of not finishing, not speak up or stand up for fear of looking foolish, the list can go on and on.
He then proceeded to tell me to prepare myself. The girls, even though they don't have a physical defect, would experience these fear-filled reactions from others throughout their lives due to their societal defect of their Dad being dead. He explained to me the importance of teaching them how to diffuse people's fear. "Fear?", I questioned. He explained that people oftentimes feel fearful at what they do not know or what they do not understand. There will be times when discussions will occur that include the girls, only to turn to a topic that others will not know how to handle, topics that in any way have anything to do with their Dad. It could be something as simple as someone stating something that their Dad told them yesterday, or someone talking about what their Dad's job is, or perhaps about their Dad's birthday. Suddenly they will realize the topic and will fear what the right action on their part should be. It can happen with teacher peers as well, or even family. It can sometimes result in the girls feeling isolated by others because they don't know how to handle the situation. The girlies need to be confident in telling those around them that it's okay, even though their Dad is dead he's still their Dad. And they don't mind talking about Dads at all!
Today I received some information in the mail that I'd been waiting for. You can send in a written and notarized request to the Medical Examiner's Office for a detailed report on the autopsy. I did that, and finally received said report today. I was so disappointed to find nothing in there that cleared anything up at all. As a result of reading about autopsy happenings combined with not learning anything new, I found myself today emotional and short with those around me. Not a good combination to add into my already cocktail mixture of maxxed out emotions. And then, in addition to that, I knew that this afternoon was the only available day to go around and pass out the invitations to Ane's Luau Birthday party.
This may seem insignificant to some of you, but it holds huge significance for me. Naki and the girlies and I always did this together for each of the girlies' 1st Birthday Luaus. It was such fun. He would organize the list of all the different addresses, making sure that we wouldn't have to backtrack anywhere, and then we'd get at it, leaving the side doors of the minivan open as one girlie after another would hop out of the car and run up to a house to tape the invite on their door, and would return to the car as another girlie was hopping out for their turn. Today we were almost finished and I thought we were doing grandly at our normally 1 hour project that had taken me and the girlies 2 hours to complete. But we'd done it! and had experienced lots of giggles in the process. I should know better than to count my chickens before they hatch... We were approaching two friends whose houses are across the street from each other. They were actually outside with their children, playing and working. It was Lose's friend's house, and in her excitement to deliver the invite she leaped from the car while I was still driving, ending up in an eventual face-plant on the asphalt. This has NEVER happened before and of course it was Lose it happened to. Uuugh. But, we triumphed! We completed our task, and are so excited to be able to get together and celebrate our precious Ane-Boo. I can't figure out why I can't get the invite to load up on here tonight...I'm a bit wasted and will try again tomorrow.
Love you all...
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
After all my whining in my post yesterday, I feel the need today to post something sweet and cute to help balance myself and my thoughts. I must say, that for me, writing my thoughts out is a complete purging and cleansing process. Unloading my thoughts and inner turmoil provides me with such emotional relief. Those feelings still exist, whichever ones I'd recently written out, but somehow by acknowledging and owning them, I can take a step forward that I couldn't before. These pictures are from my niece Aria's birthday party, the party Line blogged about earlier. The girlies' Uncle, Naki's older brother, put up a whole area of posters with the faces cut out for the kids to take pictures in. All the kids were so cute posing with their different facial expressions. Even the adults got in on the fun, but I don't happen to have any of those shots.
This video is of Ane. Ginny noticed one day that Ane was trying to spread out her Daddy blanket so that she could kiss his pictures. Now Ginny will put a pillow under the blanket, and then Ane will do what you see in the video, all the time. One time her blanket happened to be on the floor, not intentionally left spread open, with no pillow underneath it, and the hard floor was not what she had expected to feel when she gave her umas to the pictures of Daddy...
Monday, March 22, 2010
Fun-sucker
I can't remember who says it, or to whom it's said, but I'm pretty sure it's the daughter saying it to her mother. In the movie Freaky Friday with Lyndsay Lohan and Jamie Curtis, after they've switched bodies with one another, one purposefully and pointedly calls the other a "fun-sucker", meaning they suck the fun out of everything.
I am officially the new "fun-sucker" around these parts.
I can say this openly and honestly, because I know it's true. I have come to a point in all of this where I no longer have the energy to care whether it makes people uncomfortable to be around me if I don't have a smile on my face. Now, I have always been a staunch supporter of being yourself. I would never pretend to be something I'm not...been there done that as a teenager, and will never do it again. However, I have been known to worry about those around me and how I have the ability, we all do, to make a difference to those around us. Because of this knowledge, it's been very important to not be the downer in a group, or to not give anyone cause to feel badly when I can in fact be the reason for someone to feel good. If this means smiling at someone when I'm frowning inside, then I smile. If it means laugh at someone's joke because on another day I'd find it funny but just not today, then I laugh. It requires extra energy, but is always worth the effort. And quite often the result is that I feel better for forgetting about my woes and enjoying other people. It's a bit of the "fake it 'till ya make it" idea. And it's almost always worked for me in the past.
I'm reached a difficult point...I no longer have the extra energy to make those extra efforts. I no longer feel capable of pulling the corners of my mouth up when I don't feel like it inside. I observe something that is funny, but can't bring myself to laugh. I feel a hard shell forming around me, and it is extremely unsettling and uncomfortable. I can feel people smiling at me, but just don't think I can smile back anymore. If you come to my door and I say hello and just blank stare at you, know that it is not personal. If you laugh and I just sit there and seem to be glaring, I'm not. You see, I, am a fun-sucker.
I've been feeling the awful realization that I live, separate from my life as a mother, a pleasureless life. There is nothing in this world that brings me pleasure. Isn't that just one of the most awful statements you've ever heard? It sounds even more awful saying it here than it does in my head. Even the joy my kids bring to my life doesn't fall in this category as a pleasure because in addition to being the loves of my life, they are also the work of my life. When I say pleasure, I mean something you do just because, just for you. We all, or I hope we all, have something that does this for us. You may think, as I have, how can having just one person in your entire life change everything? Can't you just feel disappointed, sad, and lonely? Why completely pleasureless? Does it really have such a ripple effect? Yes. Yes it does.
I used to love to read fiction. Can't do it anymore. It either brings up emotions that are too much for me to feel or the fiction seems like such fluff after I've realized what a serious venture life really is. Let me tell you, I'm really ticked about not being able to read for pleasure anymore. It really stinks just reading to learn. It doesn't bring me any of the mental relief that fiction did...
Music. I've blogged about music already and how I am no longer able to enjoy the music that I did before. Either it's message is too heartwrenching (really, you'd be surprised how many songs are about true love or your lover, neither of which I have access to) or it has a memory attached to it, which is also heartwrenching. I am getting a bit tired of the soulful/spiritual music as of late, which brings me to orchestral music. Haven't really started getting into that yet, but it too is not for pleasure like I used to enjoy.
Television. I find myself falling asleep watching the shows that I used to love, whenever I actually sit down to watch them. I just don't care if I miss the next episode. What does it matter? It has nothing to do with reality. It too, seems like fluff in a world where fluff matters not.
Movies. They kinda fall under the same category as television, with a twist. You have romance, which is obvious in it's reasons for being unappealing. You have suspenseful, which surprisingly parallells the other fluff stuff. None of it is real. Then you have action movies, which has a bunch of fake killing and death...who wants to see that replayed when you've already seen the real thing in your own bedroom?
Comedy. Funny? What's funny? Who laughs anymore after something like this? Sometimes I'm surprised by myself and do find some humor out there that actually gets a chuckle from me, but not much.
Shopping, pedicures, manicures, and anything else that falls under this category. How can it truly be enjoyed when I know that every penny I spend is a penny I won't get back? It's a constant reminder that I have sole responsibility for these babies with no job experience and no college degree. Scary.
Intimacy. Don't get freaked out...not going into details. Just by listing it as an area that I don't have access to anymore is 'nuff said.
I realize that there are so many more things out there that bring other people pleasure in their lives that I either haven't tried or haven't been able to try. But would it be any different than the other things I've listed? What is out there that can be just for me? What I truly want, I truly can't have.
I feel like such a petulant child. Today I was in Kinko's working on Ane's 1st Birthday Luau invitation. Her party is this Saturday the 27th at 4, and I will be posting her invite on here for the details tomorrow. We were originally going to do her party at the end of last year, but for obvious reasons, I'm just getting around to it. I was so frustrated while I was there because they told me that it didn't matter what I copy, that all of their machines will automatically put this little white border around it. I didn't want a little white border! I could, they calmly told me, avoid the border if I copied my 8x11 invite onto a 11x17, and then cut each and every one to size. Seriously? I had an out of body experience as I heard myself explain to the poor little Kinko's Manager how ridiculous it was that someone would actually invent a machine that doesn't make an actual copy. It makes copies with borders! How stupid is that! (The border thing, not me complaining about it, of course.) As they went off to make the copies for me, I bent my head down and just cried, right there in Kinkos. What was wrong with me? Is my life so pathetic that I'm one of those people? The kind that are so unhappy with life that it just spills out of them all over and gets onto other unsuspecting people who are just trying to live their life?
This past Sunday I REALLY felt like a petulant child. Now, some of my nearest and dearest friends I find at my church. And ultimately I know that if I want to feel closest to my Elder Brother and Friend, the Savior, I need to get my butt to church every week. But since my experience of becoming a widow and since I have found myself seeking more clarity within the teachings of the Gospel, more often than I expected I've left church feeling frustrated and isolated as I listen to people comment in Sunday School and Relief Society about their lives within the boundaries of the Gospel. I have always believed in the idea that the Gospel is perfect, but obviously the people living it are not. And so nothing that people say or do has or will ever offend me. But I just cannot find what I am looking for lately. I feel like what people say at church they could say with their eyes closed and asleep. It has been said so often that it becomes rote, automatic, and expected. I could say everything they're saying, and as a matter of fact, may have said before. But it no longer satisfies. It doesn't satisfy because I'm trying to do all of it, without the results that others say they have. At some point, it becomes obvious that either they are lying, which I don't believe all of them are, or there is something broken within me. Not permanently broken, thank heavens, but for now not working the way it used to. When a + b used to equal c, but now equals zero, something is obviously amiss. This is a journey I'm on. I recognize that, and so keep going every week to see what the next part reveals to me. I just wish that there was a bit more depth available in our discussions at church, I guess. It would seem a bit more honest if we actually spoke what we actually felt, without glossing over the difficult stuff.
It is difficult for me to sometimes just be there feeling broken. Perhaps because I was making such an attempt to keep trying and attending classes that were unfulfilling despite the teacher's heartfelt and sincere preparation, I was shocked to find myself in a situation that brought on quite a flash of anger in the middle of Relief Society. Ginny and I were comfortably seated, braced for a difficult hour for the both of us. (Because of the afore mentioned frustrations with class discussions...) The teacher asked all of the sisters to stand and move to the seats in the middle of the room so there were no empty chairs. Well, in order to collect and corral all of the 6 kiddos from their various classrooms single handedly, Ginny and I have devised a system, and it works great. She gathers all the church bags and purses, gets to the car to unlock it and wait for whomever I send out. Then I gather one at a time and send them her way, until all are in the car. The hallways are quickly crowded once everyone is out of class, so we usually step out of Relief Society a minute or two before class is over to get a head start on the process. And so, we like to sit in a spot where we can unobtrusively step out. We thought we'd just stay where we were, but imagine our surprise when after everyone else had settled into their seats, she then waited for us to move. When we did not, she shooed us over to some available seats, and when I politely declined, twice, she stood there, waited, and shooed us again until out of my many years of good upbringing, I got up and moved. Now, I have to say, I have never felt like just turning around and walking out of a classroom because I was so angry while at church before. Imagine! Me wanting to do something so awful and rude. The rush of heat that came over me from my head to my toes was intense and I seriously had to restrain myself. "Look, Lady!", I wanted to yell, "You're lucky I'm here at all!" or "You can't make me move if I don't want to!". Talk about being the petulant child...
In her defense, she really did have a great little activity planned where for the first minute of class she wanted us to visit with whomever we were sitting beside that we might not normally visit with. Her lesson was about not feeling isolated at church, and how we should make an effort to not make assumptions about the sisters around us. My purpose in telling you my experience is not to point out any wrong doing on her part. She truly was trying to help all of us understand the value in stepping outside of our boundaries and doing our best to think of others. After I thought it over and over for the past day and a half, I realized that I felt much like Lose has lately. Where is my choice? Where is my control in any given situation? I feel as if I have none at all, and so being in the position of being told something as simple as moving over when I didn't have to, it is obvious it's correlation with my grieving process. All of my choices in life, including the pleasures I used to enjoy, are gone!
I've been reading the book of Job and a correlating address on the book written by Keith H. Meservy. Not because I feel I have anything to complain about compared to him, but I thought that there would be much I could learn from him. I just barely started, and have already learned so much. All along I'd thought mistakenly that Job suffered heroically, and thought no depressed or ill thoughts. Obviously, it's been WAY too long since I'd read this book. How comforting it's been to discover that Job felt grief much the same way I've felt it. I've also learned the way to grieve and mourn with someone else who is in the midst of a difficult time. His friends came to be with him, and when they arrived they didn't even recognize him. Although I am the same physically, spiritually I feel unrecognizable. How touching it is to read that his changes mattered not to his true friends. They stayed with him for seven days and seven nights. "And none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great." I'm sure he was a fun-sucker in those moments, too. It didn't matter to them.
I was surprised to see the word grief written here...I guess I attribute it as a modern word for some reason, which makes no sense at all. I cross referenced a verse in the Book of Mormon about grief, and it has given me great cause to reflect. It's a verse I've known for many years which has now taken on a new meaning for me.
Helaman 5:12 "And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall."
I read that verse and two things popped out to me. First, "endless wo", the perfect words to fit how I feel about the rest of my life. (Dramatic to some of you, I'm sure, but that's just the way this all feels.) Second, if I feel such endless wo, what foundation am I built on exactly? I had thought that it was Jesus Christ, but if it truly was, then according to this verse I wouldn't feel the way I do. Hmmm...
Obviously, I'm always thinking about all of this. I no longer am anything but a fun-sucker. So, if you could just know that if I don't seem cheerfully responsive to what you may say, know that I love you just the same. I'm just workin' on some stuff.
I am officially the new "fun-sucker" around these parts.
I can say this openly and honestly, because I know it's true. I have come to a point in all of this where I no longer have the energy to care whether it makes people uncomfortable to be around me if I don't have a smile on my face. Now, I have always been a staunch supporter of being yourself. I would never pretend to be something I'm not...been there done that as a teenager, and will never do it again. However, I have been known to worry about those around me and how I have the ability, we all do, to make a difference to those around us. Because of this knowledge, it's been very important to not be the downer in a group, or to not give anyone cause to feel badly when I can in fact be the reason for someone to feel good. If this means smiling at someone when I'm frowning inside, then I smile. If it means laugh at someone's joke because on another day I'd find it funny but just not today, then I laugh. It requires extra energy, but is always worth the effort. And quite often the result is that I feel better for forgetting about my woes and enjoying other people. It's a bit of the "fake it 'till ya make it" idea. And it's almost always worked for me in the past.
I'm reached a difficult point...I no longer have the extra energy to make those extra efforts. I no longer feel capable of pulling the corners of my mouth up when I don't feel like it inside. I observe something that is funny, but can't bring myself to laugh. I feel a hard shell forming around me, and it is extremely unsettling and uncomfortable. I can feel people smiling at me, but just don't think I can smile back anymore. If you come to my door and I say hello and just blank stare at you, know that it is not personal. If you laugh and I just sit there and seem to be glaring, I'm not. You see, I, am a fun-sucker.
I've been feeling the awful realization that I live, separate from my life as a mother, a pleasureless life. There is nothing in this world that brings me pleasure. Isn't that just one of the most awful statements you've ever heard? It sounds even more awful saying it here than it does in my head. Even the joy my kids bring to my life doesn't fall in this category as a pleasure because in addition to being the loves of my life, they are also the work of my life. When I say pleasure, I mean something you do just because, just for you. We all, or I hope we all, have something that does this for us. You may think, as I have, how can having just one person in your entire life change everything? Can't you just feel disappointed, sad, and lonely? Why completely pleasureless? Does it really have such a ripple effect? Yes. Yes it does.
I used to love to read fiction. Can't do it anymore. It either brings up emotions that are too much for me to feel or the fiction seems like such fluff after I've realized what a serious venture life really is. Let me tell you, I'm really ticked about not being able to read for pleasure anymore. It really stinks just reading to learn. It doesn't bring me any of the mental relief that fiction did...
Music. I've blogged about music already and how I am no longer able to enjoy the music that I did before. Either it's message is too heartwrenching (really, you'd be surprised how many songs are about true love or your lover, neither of which I have access to) or it has a memory attached to it, which is also heartwrenching. I am getting a bit tired of the soulful/spiritual music as of late, which brings me to orchestral music. Haven't really started getting into that yet, but it too is not for pleasure like I used to enjoy.
Television. I find myself falling asleep watching the shows that I used to love, whenever I actually sit down to watch them. I just don't care if I miss the next episode. What does it matter? It has nothing to do with reality. It too, seems like fluff in a world where fluff matters not.
Movies. They kinda fall under the same category as television, with a twist. You have romance, which is obvious in it's reasons for being unappealing. You have suspenseful, which surprisingly parallells the other fluff stuff. None of it is real. Then you have action movies, which has a bunch of fake killing and death...who wants to see that replayed when you've already seen the real thing in your own bedroom?
Comedy. Funny? What's funny? Who laughs anymore after something like this? Sometimes I'm surprised by myself and do find some humor out there that actually gets a chuckle from me, but not much.
Shopping, pedicures, manicures, and anything else that falls under this category. How can it truly be enjoyed when I know that every penny I spend is a penny I won't get back? It's a constant reminder that I have sole responsibility for these babies with no job experience and no college degree. Scary.
Intimacy. Don't get freaked out...not going into details. Just by listing it as an area that I don't have access to anymore is 'nuff said.
I realize that there are so many more things out there that bring other people pleasure in their lives that I either haven't tried or haven't been able to try. But would it be any different than the other things I've listed? What is out there that can be just for me? What I truly want, I truly can't have.
I feel like such a petulant child. Today I was in Kinko's working on Ane's 1st Birthday Luau invitation. Her party is this Saturday the 27th at 4, and I will be posting her invite on here for the details tomorrow. We were originally going to do her party at the end of last year, but for obvious reasons, I'm just getting around to it. I was so frustrated while I was there because they told me that it didn't matter what I copy, that all of their machines will automatically put this little white border around it. I didn't want a little white border! I could, they calmly told me, avoid the border if I copied my 8x11 invite onto a 11x17, and then cut each and every one to size. Seriously? I had an out of body experience as I heard myself explain to the poor little Kinko's Manager how ridiculous it was that someone would actually invent a machine that doesn't make an actual copy. It makes copies with borders! How stupid is that! (The border thing, not me complaining about it, of course.) As they went off to make the copies for me, I bent my head down and just cried, right there in Kinkos. What was wrong with me? Is my life so pathetic that I'm one of those people? The kind that are so unhappy with life that it just spills out of them all over and gets onto other unsuspecting people who are just trying to live their life?
This past Sunday I REALLY felt like a petulant child. Now, some of my nearest and dearest friends I find at my church. And ultimately I know that if I want to feel closest to my Elder Brother and Friend, the Savior, I need to get my butt to church every week. But since my experience of becoming a widow and since I have found myself seeking more clarity within the teachings of the Gospel, more often than I expected I've left church feeling frustrated and isolated as I listen to people comment in Sunday School and Relief Society about their lives within the boundaries of the Gospel. I have always believed in the idea that the Gospel is perfect, but obviously the people living it are not. And so nothing that people say or do has or will ever offend me. But I just cannot find what I am looking for lately. I feel like what people say at church they could say with their eyes closed and asleep. It has been said so often that it becomes rote, automatic, and expected. I could say everything they're saying, and as a matter of fact, may have said before. But it no longer satisfies. It doesn't satisfy because I'm trying to do all of it, without the results that others say they have. At some point, it becomes obvious that either they are lying, which I don't believe all of them are, or there is something broken within me. Not permanently broken, thank heavens, but for now not working the way it used to. When a + b used to equal c, but now equals zero, something is obviously amiss. This is a journey I'm on. I recognize that, and so keep going every week to see what the next part reveals to me. I just wish that there was a bit more depth available in our discussions at church, I guess. It would seem a bit more honest if we actually spoke what we actually felt, without glossing over the difficult stuff.
It is difficult for me to sometimes just be there feeling broken. Perhaps because I was making such an attempt to keep trying and attending classes that were unfulfilling despite the teacher's heartfelt and sincere preparation, I was shocked to find myself in a situation that brought on quite a flash of anger in the middle of Relief Society. Ginny and I were comfortably seated, braced for a difficult hour for the both of us. (Because of the afore mentioned frustrations with class discussions...) The teacher asked all of the sisters to stand and move to the seats in the middle of the room so there were no empty chairs. Well, in order to collect and corral all of the 6 kiddos from their various classrooms single handedly, Ginny and I have devised a system, and it works great. She gathers all the church bags and purses, gets to the car to unlock it and wait for whomever I send out. Then I gather one at a time and send them her way, until all are in the car. The hallways are quickly crowded once everyone is out of class, so we usually step out of Relief Society a minute or two before class is over to get a head start on the process. And so, we like to sit in a spot where we can unobtrusively step out. We thought we'd just stay where we were, but imagine our surprise when after everyone else had settled into their seats, she then waited for us to move. When we did not, she shooed us over to some available seats, and when I politely declined, twice, she stood there, waited, and shooed us again until out of my many years of good upbringing, I got up and moved. Now, I have to say, I have never felt like just turning around and walking out of a classroom because I was so angry while at church before. Imagine! Me wanting to do something so awful and rude. The rush of heat that came over me from my head to my toes was intense and I seriously had to restrain myself. "Look, Lady!", I wanted to yell, "You're lucky I'm here at all!" or "You can't make me move if I don't want to!". Talk about being the petulant child...
In her defense, she really did have a great little activity planned where for the first minute of class she wanted us to visit with whomever we were sitting beside that we might not normally visit with. Her lesson was about not feeling isolated at church, and how we should make an effort to not make assumptions about the sisters around us. My purpose in telling you my experience is not to point out any wrong doing on her part. She truly was trying to help all of us understand the value in stepping outside of our boundaries and doing our best to think of others. After I thought it over and over for the past day and a half, I realized that I felt much like Lose has lately. Where is my choice? Where is my control in any given situation? I feel as if I have none at all, and so being in the position of being told something as simple as moving over when I didn't have to, it is obvious it's correlation with my grieving process. All of my choices in life, including the pleasures I used to enjoy, are gone!
I've been reading the book of Job and a correlating address on the book written by Keith H. Meservy. Not because I feel I have anything to complain about compared to him, but I thought that there would be much I could learn from him. I just barely started, and have already learned so much. All along I'd thought mistakenly that Job suffered heroically, and thought no depressed or ill thoughts. Obviously, it's been WAY too long since I'd read this book. How comforting it's been to discover that Job felt grief much the same way I've felt it. I've also learned the way to grieve and mourn with someone else who is in the midst of a difficult time. His friends came to be with him, and when they arrived they didn't even recognize him. Although I am the same physically, spiritually I feel unrecognizable. How touching it is to read that his changes mattered not to his true friends. They stayed with him for seven days and seven nights. "And none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great." I'm sure he was a fun-sucker in those moments, too. It didn't matter to them.
I was surprised to see the word grief written here...I guess I attribute it as a modern word for some reason, which makes no sense at all. I cross referenced a verse in the Book of Mormon about grief, and it has given me great cause to reflect. It's a verse I've known for many years which has now taken on a new meaning for me.
Helaman 5:12 "And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall."
I read that verse and two things popped out to me. First, "endless wo", the perfect words to fit how I feel about the rest of my life. (Dramatic to some of you, I'm sure, but that's just the way this all feels.) Second, if I feel such endless wo, what foundation am I built on exactly? I had thought that it was Jesus Christ, but if it truly was, then according to this verse I wouldn't feel the way I do. Hmmm...
Obviously, I'm always thinking about all of this. I no longer am anything but a fun-sucker. So, if you could just know that if I don't seem cheerfully responsive to what you may say, know that I love you just the same. I'm just workin' on some stuff.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
My right eyelid is twitching and won't stop. Yesterday the twitching was in the muscle that works my left thumb. I'm trying my hardest to push through all this pain, but my body is showing me in small ways that it is still suffering. I'm extremely tired. I look around me and am surprised to still be able to see things, which must mean that my eyes are actually open instead of closed. I'm shocked because inside mentally and emotionally my eyes feel closed, or they feel the equivalent of what closing your eyes and checking out for a while would hope to feel like.
I can always tell when something is bubbling over the top inside of me because of the way I eat. If I'm able to continue to make health-conscious food choices, things are going pretty good for the moment. The minute that I eat an entire bag of those whopper eggs, or chips and dip, or cheescake, or chocolate raisins, or juice and crystal light, all one after the other all day, always with the option of anything else I can get my hands on thrown in there, it's a big heads up that I'm trying my darndest to cover something uncomfortable up. Today I'm just so tired of it all. I just want to have a day of carefree nothingness, if that even makes sense. More accurately, a day of my old life combined with a couple of things from my new awful life. I guess I'm actually saying that I want a day of a perfect life. No one ever gets that, I guess. Not if you really think and examine your life. Nothing here is PERFECT. There are perfect moments in all our imperfect lives. I won't experience any days like that for quite a long time...because they don't exist here on earth. Am I wrong? Am I even describing what I'm feeling in the words that will best draw a picture of my wish? I just want him back, and knowing that will never happen is still something I'm struggling to accept. I want to be like an ostrich...stick my head in the sand and not come out until it's all over, whenever that will be.
Today an odd thing happened. Lose and Eli asked me to take them by Naki's grave. None of the girls have ever asked me to do that before. The option is always open, and I've made plans for us as a family several times, but this was the first time that they asked me unprompted. It was short (the wind was blowing and it was freezing) and when they walked up there they jumped up and down on his grave several times yelling, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!", as they would if they were playing with him on the floor. It was sweet. It was miserable. It was good.
Can I run away? I just want to run away. Lose almost did. Well, okay. I'm being dramatic when I phrase it that way. This little girl has always pushed her limits and my limits, all at the same time. Her biggest strength is also her biggest weakness. She consistently speaks and acts without thinking. It's such a gift because she is constantly lifting up people around her, making them feel better about themselves, without even realizing it. Today a mom at dance came into the observing room at the studio and asked which little girl was mine. I pointed Lose out and repeated her name a couple of times to the sweet mom. She then proceeded to tell me that her little girl didn't know any of the other girls in the class, and had been feeling awkward about it. Her mom then asked her, "Who is that little girl, the one who always yells out your name, and says goodbye to you?" It was Lose, of course. It would never occur to her to be self conscious and process through in her mind which girls to say goodbye or hello to, but to be friends with one and all. She sees no one's strengths as a reason for her to feel insecure, and thus acts and speaks without fear of rejection or offense to all the girls. She seems all of them as her friends. Such a gift.
However, last week when I was a couple of minutes late picking her up from dance, she got herself in so much trouble. I actually lost my voice yelling at her in the car on the way home...it helped a bit that I was already hoarse from my sinus/coughing thing. As I pulled up to the studio imagine my surprise to find her in someone else's car. They had asked her if her Mom was a couple minutes late picking her up from class, and did she need a ride home. If I didn't deserve it before, now I know I should receive the award for the Mother of the Year. Yup. I was in fact a couple of minutes late picking her up. But we have rules about that...if you do not spot Mom and the car as soon as you leave class, then you are to go right back inside, and wait for me to come and get you. She broke that rule...she stayed outside and was playing on the hill by the studio. Lucky for her and for me, the person's car she'd cozied herself into was a Mom from dance class that I actually do know, but it could have been much much much worse.
Let's be perfectly clear. We have few yet extrememly firm rules about how to keep yourself safe. We have reviewed such rules many many times. Lose could repeat them to me in her sleep. The problem lies in the fact that she either doesn't stop to apply the rule that she knows, or she does apply it and decides that she doesn't care about the particular rule for whatever situation it applies to, and decides that the rule didn't know about how much she'd want to do what it said she can't or shouldn't.
Does this scare anyone else besides me? Do you realize what kind of future I have ahead of me, all by myself, without Naki around to help?
Lose's found herself in other safety rule-breaking scenarios many a time, but this one took the cake. I've used the following tactics on her thus far:
1. Calm Talking, helping her retrace her steps to see where her choices could have gone differently.
2. Crying, as I explained how hurt I was that she disrespected herself and I with such disregard to our family rules.
3. Calm Talking, refer to #1.
4. Crying, telling her how scared I would be if ever something were to happen to her.
5. Calm Talking, refer to #1 and #3.
6. Punishments. These have taken a wide range in their level of creativity, but obviously they hold no significance for her, since she's blatantly told me that she would prefer being punished as long as she can first do what it was that would require breaking the safety rule.
7. Crying, refer to #2 and #4.
8. Spankings, my least favorite. This. Does. Nothing.
9. More Calm talking, refer to #s...oh, you get the picture already.
10. Finally, screaming and yelling at her on the way home from dance on the day of her offense. This resulted in her telling me that she was in fact the worst and stupidest child ever. Her self berating lasted so long, I will never do that method again. Besides, Ane's, Eva's, and Eli's eyes were all so big with shock to hear me screaming like that, and the need they felt to tiptoe around me from fear for the rest of the evening was awful.
So, as you can see, I'm kinda running out of options. I even asked the therapist about it, and he told me that he can see this part of her personality in her sessions, whatever that means. He also told me the fantastic news that in his experience, which is vast, that children like her almost always have to have an experience on their own that will help to reinforce the teaching that they're struggling learning. I would assume it's not usually a happy experience. Oh Joy. I am NOT looking forward to any of this. Seriously. I want to be an ostrich now more than ever.
At church on Sunday a dear friend of Lose's was in her personal and mental space. She was becoming frustrated with her situation, and instead of communicating with him to explain that she needed her own space, or that she was simply frustrated with him, she proceeded to threaten him. She convincingly told him that she knew some kid at the school where they both attend that would beat him up and then flush his head down the toilet. Where is the thinking before you speak in THAT conversation? Just like the other girls and some of their tendencies before Naki died, Lose's impulsiveness has been exacerbated beyond what I thought was possible. She had these difficulties before her Dad died, but they're now under the microscope, all enlarged and awkward in their appearance. Can anyone say "Grieving Child"? How can I help her? I've run out of ways that I can think of. I feel spent, and the girl is only 6 years old.
Someone please make my eyelid stop twitching. I'm going to bed.
I can always tell when something is bubbling over the top inside of me because of the way I eat. If I'm able to continue to make health-conscious food choices, things are going pretty good for the moment. The minute that I eat an entire bag of those whopper eggs, or chips and dip, or cheescake, or chocolate raisins, or juice and crystal light, all one after the other all day, always with the option of anything else I can get my hands on thrown in there, it's a big heads up that I'm trying my darndest to cover something uncomfortable up. Today I'm just so tired of it all. I just want to have a day of carefree nothingness, if that even makes sense. More accurately, a day of my old life combined with a couple of things from my new awful life. I guess I'm actually saying that I want a day of a perfect life. No one ever gets that, I guess. Not if you really think and examine your life. Nothing here is PERFECT. There are perfect moments in all our imperfect lives. I won't experience any days like that for quite a long time...because they don't exist here on earth. Am I wrong? Am I even describing what I'm feeling in the words that will best draw a picture of my wish? I just want him back, and knowing that will never happen is still something I'm struggling to accept. I want to be like an ostrich...stick my head in the sand and not come out until it's all over, whenever that will be.
Today an odd thing happened. Lose and Eli asked me to take them by Naki's grave. None of the girls have ever asked me to do that before. The option is always open, and I've made plans for us as a family several times, but this was the first time that they asked me unprompted. It was short (the wind was blowing and it was freezing) and when they walked up there they jumped up and down on his grave several times yelling, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!", as they would if they were playing with him on the floor. It was sweet. It was miserable. It was good.
Can I run away? I just want to run away. Lose almost did. Well, okay. I'm being dramatic when I phrase it that way. This little girl has always pushed her limits and my limits, all at the same time. Her biggest strength is also her biggest weakness. She consistently speaks and acts without thinking. It's such a gift because she is constantly lifting up people around her, making them feel better about themselves, without even realizing it. Today a mom at dance came into the observing room at the studio and asked which little girl was mine. I pointed Lose out and repeated her name a couple of times to the sweet mom. She then proceeded to tell me that her little girl didn't know any of the other girls in the class, and had been feeling awkward about it. Her mom then asked her, "Who is that little girl, the one who always yells out your name, and says goodbye to you?" It was Lose, of course. It would never occur to her to be self conscious and process through in her mind which girls to say goodbye or hello to, but to be friends with one and all. She sees no one's strengths as a reason for her to feel insecure, and thus acts and speaks without fear of rejection or offense to all the girls. She seems all of them as her friends. Such a gift.
However, last week when I was a couple of minutes late picking her up from dance, she got herself in so much trouble. I actually lost my voice yelling at her in the car on the way home...it helped a bit that I was already hoarse from my sinus/coughing thing. As I pulled up to the studio imagine my surprise to find her in someone else's car. They had asked her if her Mom was a couple minutes late picking her up from class, and did she need a ride home. If I didn't deserve it before, now I know I should receive the award for the Mother of the Year. Yup. I was in fact a couple of minutes late picking her up. But we have rules about that...if you do not spot Mom and the car as soon as you leave class, then you are to go right back inside, and wait for me to come and get you. She broke that rule...she stayed outside and was playing on the hill by the studio. Lucky for her and for me, the person's car she'd cozied herself into was a Mom from dance class that I actually do know, but it could have been much much much worse.
Let's be perfectly clear. We have few yet extrememly firm rules about how to keep yourself safe. We have reviewed such rules many many times. Lose could repeat them to me in her sleep. The problem lies in the fact that she either doesn't stop to apply the rule that she knows, or she does apply it and decides that she doesn't care about the particular rule for whatever situation it applies to, and decides that the rule didn't know about how much she'd want to do what it said she can't or shouldn't.
Does this scare anyone else besides me? Do you realize what kind of future I have ahead of me, all by myself, without Naki around to help?
Lose's found herself in other safety rule-breaking scenarios many a time, but this one took the cake. I've used the following tactics on her thus far:
1. Calm Talking, helping her retrace her steps to see where her choices could have gone differently.
2. Crying, as I explained how hurt I was that she disrespected herself and I with such disregard to our family rules.
3. Calm Talking, refer to #1.
4. Crying, telling her how scared I would be if ever something were to happen to her.
5. Calm Talking, refer to #1 and #3.
6. Punishments. These have taken a wide range in their level of creativity, but obviously they hold no significance for her, since she's blatantly told me that she would prefer being punished as long as she can first do what it was that would require breaking the safety rule.
7. Crying, refer to #2 and #4.
8. Spankings, my least favorite. This. Does. Nothing.
9. More Calm talking, refer to #s...oh, you get the picture already.
10. Finally, screaming and yelling at her on the way home from dance on the day of her offense. This resulted in her telling me that she was in fact the worst and stupidest child ever. Her self berating lasted so long, I will never do that method again. Besides, Ane's, Eva's, and Eli's eyes were all so big with shock to hear me screaming like that, and the need they felt to tiptoe around me from fear for the rest of the evening was awful.
So, as you can see, I'm kinda running out of options. I even asked the therapist about it, and he told me that he can see this part of her personality in her sessions, whatever that means. He also told me the fantastic news that in his experience, which is vast, that children like her almost always have to have an experience on their own that will help to reinforce the teaching that they're struggling learning. I would assume it's not usually a happy experience. Oh Joy. I am NOT looking forward to any of this. Seriously. I want to be an ostrich now more than ever.
At church on Sunday a dear friend of Lose's was in her personal and mental space. She was becoming frustrated with her situation, and instead of communicating with him to explain that she needed her own space, or that she was simply frustrated with him, she proceeded to threaten him. She convincingly told him that she knew some kid at the school where they both attend that would beat him up and then flush his head down the toilet. Where is the thinking before you speak in THAT conversation? Just like the other girls and some of their tendencies before Naki died, Lose's impulsiveness has been exacerbated beyond what I thought was possible. She had these difficulties before her Dad died, but they're now under the microscope, all enlarged and awkward in their appearance. Can anyone say "Grieving Child"? How can I help her? I've run out of ways that I can think of. I feel spent, and the girl is only 6 years old.
Someone please make my eyelid stop twitching. I'm going to bed.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Still Alive
Today is my birthday. I am 34. This surprisingly hasn't been all that difficult for me so far, but give me some time. I'll hit a rough patch about having my first birthday without Naki around to pinch me. But I'm grateful for the calm unemotional moments. Birthdays for he and I were pretty darn simple. We just wanted to feel special on our birthday, which for us didn't require any gifts but instead thoughtful acts of kindness and consideration that would make us feel either kingly or queenly, depending on whose day it was. And although I miss him terribly, I have felt queenly today, for sure. I love all of you who have tried so hard to love me today.
I just love this time of year. Last fall I planted a lilac bush, a different flowering shrub whose name I'm forgetting right now...plum something, a peach tree, a spring snow crabapple tree, two flowering hawthorn trees, a maple tree, and two entire perennial beds. I keep finding excuses to go out and make the rounds, checking on everybody to see whose sprouted what buds...some are cute and fuzzy, others and smooth and bright. I. Love. It. Something about seeing my plants grow fills me up. I've already fertilized, and can't wait to see all of them start their spring time show. Now, if I'd just remembered last fall that I had an entire bag of bulbs in my garage that I'd bought before Naki died, and then remembered to plant them, I'd get to enjoy those too. But, there's always this fall for planting and next spring for enjoying.
I think that's what I find so enjoyable about all this planting. The plants are alive. We are alive. There are many parallels to draw from the two and experiencing both of them. I'm a bit drowsy, and really want a nap on my birthday! So I won't go into deep comparisons right now, but I know from reading about my plants, knowing the care they require in order to reach their full capacity, and knowing that they will continue to live as long as I provide for their needs, that I find much of that similar to me. And similar to me even BEFORE Naki died, and all the more now that he's gone.
Death is imminent. We know better than we've ever known before that it is inevitable and essential to our progression beyond mortals into immortality. The other night at dinner the girls were discussing my upcoming birthday. Some of the girls were joking saying that I would probably reach 82 years old before I die. Fine by me, I said, mentally pleased with that figure since I myself have planned that I'd like to live no longer than 93 years of age...3 chunks of 2o years from the time Naki died. (I'm all about the planning...) I figured I could handle things better if I knew that time frame I was dealing with. If I die before that, SWEET! And if I make it past that, I'll be truly pissed. So when they mentioned 82, I was good with that number.
I started discussing with them the fact that we as a family have clearly learned that death is something we cannot work our way around. We cannot avoid it. It will happen to those we love no matter how much we will it not to. I told them that we were lucky to have each other to listen to and to learn from right now. We needed to not take anyone or any conversation for granted as we have learned that we never know how long we'll have those earthly opportunities. I told them that they needed to realize that someday Mom will die, too. And that it is essential that people learn what they can from their parents while they're still alive, if possible. Malia balked. Completely balked, at that concept. She succinctly told me that if I died, she'd climb to the tallest place possible and hang herself.
That's right. My daughter, my sweet sweet Malia, told me that she'd most likely want to hang herself if I died. She'd finally let some part of her emotions come out, for once. I knew that the environment of our family meals was not conducive to the conversation that was obvious we needed to have, and told her that I would love to talk to her about that after I put the babies to bed.
We eventually met up on her bed that night, revisiting her thoughts from earlier. I asked her why she felt that way, and she told me that it was quite simple. If both Dad and I were dead, then she wouldn't want to be living...she'd want to be where we were. We worked through those thoughts. What had at first shocked me now became obvious and clear to me. She was saying aloud what I've been thinking for the last 5 months. I don't really want to kill myself, but I definitely don't want to live anywhere where Naki isn't. It's all about the pain your feeling, and the thought of feeling that pain continually for an indefinite amount of time. Malia, you are not alone in your thoughts. It's totally and completely normal to feel and think that way. But know that as time passes, you'll find that you have adventures ahead of you, people you haven't even met yet, that will be recipients of your love, whom will help you feel a portion of what you will miss when both Dad and I are gone. There is life to be lived, as unbelievable as that may be to think, when you feel like there is not. I feel that way every day. I'm shocked to find another day is here, thrilled that another day has gone, and wonder what lies ahead. I don't know how it's possible, but I am trying to have faith that where I feel dead inside will someday feel full of life.
I took these pictures last April (even though the date shows it's 2008, it's really 2009) of one of the grape vines in my neighbors yard that grows along and over our fence in the backyard.
At the end of the fall these grape vines are pruned and trimmed back, readying them for the new growth that will happen in the spring. All winter they look like a bunch of dead twigs. And then, in Spring, I find these drops of water coming out of their pruned ends.
It shocks me every time I see them. How could something like water, so essential to life and so alive, come out of something that looks so dead? It is a baffling miracle. I'm holding onto the hope to have that same experience sometime in the next 60 years, (No later, or else!), that I will feel alive and full of life once again.
I just love this time of year. Last fall I planted a lilac bush, a different flowering shrub whose name I'm forgetting right now...plum something, a peach tree, a spring snow crabapple tree, two flowering hawthorn trees, a maple tree, and two entire perennial beds. I keep finding excuses to go out and make the rounds, checking on everybody to see whose sprouted what buds...some are cute and fuzzy, others and smooth and bright. I. Love. It. Something about seeing my plants grow fills me up. I've already fertilized, and can't wait to see all of them start their spring time show. Now, if I'd just remembered last fall that I had an entire bag of bulbs in my garage that I'd bought before Naki died, and then remembered to plant them, I'd get to enjoy those too. But, there's always this fall for planting and next spring for enjoying.
I think that's what I find so enjoyable about all this planting. The plants are alive. We are alive. There are many parallels to draw from the two and experiencing both of them. I'm a bit drowsy, and really want a nap on my birthday! So I won't go into deep comparisons right now, but I know from reading about my plants, knowing the care they require in order to reach their full capacity, and knowing that they will continue to live as long as I provide for their needs, that I find much of that similar to me. And similar to me even BEFORE Naki died, and all the more now that he's gone.
Death is imminent. We know better than we've ever known before that it is inevitable and essential to our progression beyond mortals into immortality. The other night at dinner the girls were discussing my upcoming birthday. Some of the girls were joking saying that I would probably reach 82 years old before I die. Fine by me, I said, mentally pleased with that figure since I myself have planned that I'd like to live no longer than 93 years of age...3 chunks of 2o years from the time Naki died. (I'm all about the planning...) I figured I could handle things better if I knew that time frame I was dealing with. If I die before that, SWEET! And if I make it past that, I'll be truly pissed. So when they mentioned 82, I was good with that number.
I started discussing with them the fact that we as a family have clearly learned that death is something we cannot work our way around. We cannot avoid it. It will happen to those we love no matter how much we will it not to. I told them that we were lucky to have each other to listen to and to learn from right now. We needed to not take anyone or any conversation for granted as we have learned that we never know how long we'll have those earthly opportunities. I told them that they needed to realize that someday Mom will die, too. And that it is essential that people learn what they can from their parents while they're still alive, if possible. Malia balked. Completely balked, at that concept. She succinctly told me that if I died, she'd climb to the tallest place possible and hang herself.
That's right. My daughter, my sweet sweet Malia, told me that she'd most likely want to hang herself if I died. She'd finally let some part of her emotions come out, for once. I knew that the environment of our family meals was not conducive to the conversation that was obvious we needed to have, and told her that I would love to talk to her about that after I put the babies to bed.
We eventually met up on her bed that night, revisiting her thoughts from earlier. I asked her why she felt that way, and she told me that it was quite simple. If both Dad and I were dead, then she wouldn't want to be living...she'd want to be where we were. We worked through those thoughts. What had at first shocked me now became obvious and clear to me. She was saying aloud what I've been thinking for the last 5 months. I don't really want to kill myself, but I definitely don't want to live anywhere where Naki isn't. It's all about the pain your feeling, and the thought of feeling that pain continually for an indefinite amount of time. Malia, you are not alone in your thoughts. It's totally and completely normal to feel and think that way. But know that as time passes, you'll find that you have adventures ahead of you, people you haven't even met yet, that will be recipients of your love, whom will help you feel a portion of what you will miss when both Dad and I are gone. There is life to be lived, as unbelievable as that may be to think, when you feel like there is not. I feel that way every day. I'm shocked to find another day is here, thrilled that another day has gone, and wonder what lies ahead. I don't know how it's possible, but I am trying to have faith that where I feel dead inside will someday feel full of life.
I took these pictures last April (even though the date shows it's 2008, it's really 2009) of one of the grape vines in my neighbors yard that grows along and over our fence in the backyard.
At the end of the fall these grape vines are pruned and trimmed back, readying them for the new growth that will happen in the spring. All winter they look like a bunch of dead twigs. And then, in Spring, I find these drops of water coming out of their pruned ends.
It shocks me every time I see them. How could something like water, so essential to life and so alive, come out of something that looks so dead? It is a baffling miracle. I'm holding onto the hope to have that same experience sometime in the next 60 years, (No later, or else!), that I will feel alive and full of life once again.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Frustrating Dreams
I want to say thank you! to all of you that have contributed thus far to our Fireside Fundraiser. I have been so touched at all of your willingness to contribute yet something more to our family efforts. I have been sweetly surprised/relieved by all of you being so generous. I thought I wouldn't be able to sell any tickets, and had thought that just so I could contribute somehow I would end up buying several plates myself and of course would then not know what to do with all of that extra food. I know the food will be so so yummy and that even more of you will get to have some when we do it again next month. If you're still interested for getting food for this Friday, just email me and I'll let you know if it's still possible.
As I referred to in one of my recent posts, I haven't been feeling so well. Actually, my sinuses and cough have pretty much cleared all up, which is a relief. But I'm not talking about that, but instead mean how I've been feeling emotionally. I find myself sometimes feeling such astonishment still, that my Naki isn't going to walk around the corner and into the room. I just expect to see him, and find myself repeatedly let down when I do not. I pray every day, for me and the kids, to feel him in our lives. I don't know what that would actually feel like...to feel him in my life these days. I'm so terribly confused because at times I feel he's so close that it's possible he just might walk around the corner, as if he'd never left. And then when he doesn't, I wonder how I could have let that thought slip by my thought filter.
Somedays I am very successful at pushing the desire to see him to the back of my mind. Those are the days that I am able to not think of me living the rest of my entire mortal life without him, but rather I am able to just limit my perspective to the current day and the current day only. But I've discovered that I am only able to do that for so long, and that it is only a matter of time until all of those thoughts I've been able to suppress come boiling over the surface. How can I find the balance? How can I find the exact frame of mind that will help me live in the most complete state of wholeness that is possible? Right now the see-saw effect of this thought pattern is making me so exhausted. I am having trouble again making myself wake up in the morning. I crave sleep. More accurately, I crave the oblivion that I hope comes with sleep.
I have had some crazy dreams lately. One night I dreamed that it was the night that Naki had died. I saw up in the sky, as he was dying, what looked like a rectangular shaped portal of light. The shape kind of reminded me of one of those huge framed living room mirrors that some people have. In the inside of the frame there was nonstop activity with fragments of light...kind of like you see when Luke travels through Light Speed in Star Wars. I watched how the different stages of the light's patterns matched the different stages of Naki dying, and knew that it was time for him to go just by what the lights were doing. In my dream, time passed. I saw myself trying so hard to do everything that was required of me, all the while checking on that portal and it's level of activity. I knew that if I kept checking on it, that I'd be sure to not miss when it was my turn to go through the portal and be with Naki. Suddenly, one day, I was shocked to find that the portal having just recently been dormant, was now starting to rev up. The light show going on inside of it was beautiful, and I was pretty much hyperventilating in excitement as I could feel my body start lifting off of the ground, gradually making my way towards that opening. The joy that I felt at the thought that I was finally finished with mortality was so overwhelming that I cannot even begin to describe it. At the same time that I recognized how thrilled I was at the prospect of finally being able to see Naki, I corrected myself and reminded myself that I should be just as excited if not more that I would finally be able to see God and Jesus Christ, too. All of a sudden, just as I was almost to the portal, I felt an overwhelmingly powerful pull back to earth. As my arms were outreached heavenward, I glanced behind me and saw all six of my beautiful girls, standing as a group, with all of their arms outstretched to me, as they were crying out for me to stay. I knew instantly that I would stay with them and that it was the right thing to do. But the pain of making the choice to put my arms down back by my side and return back to the ground was intense and frustrating. The mental tug of war that I play through in my head is making me so tired.
I have felt the pull to start the process of going back to school...NOT something I'm all that thrilled about, for sure. I had been doing a little bit of research before I went to bed, and so the thoughts about what kind of job will provide the right kind of flexible hours that I need must have been at the front of my mind. In my dream, or should I call it a nightmare, I dreamt that once again, I was forced to leave my babies in someone else's care, as I went off to either go to school or go to work...I'm not sure which one. When I returned to get the girls much to my dismay no one could find Ane. For some reason the caretaker's location was near a body of water. I eventually located Ane, who in the dream was the same age she is now, playing at the edge of a deep and dangerous body of water, all alone, about to be overtaken by the powerful water. I awoke with such frustration at the circumstances that I feel somewhat pushed into, and more than a bit antsy about not being the one to take care of my babies all the time.
One book I've been reading off and on over the last couple of months is called Life Everlasting written by Duane S. Crowther. In his words in the introduction as to the purpose of this book, he writes, "This volume is not a fanciful collection of consoling poetry and funeral phraseology. It is a careful analysis of the experiences of dozens of reliable individuals who have died and then returned to life, and of scores of others who have been visited by departed spirits. It is a gathering together of revelation after revelation telling of the glorious life which awaits the righteous. It is my personal witness that life continues beyond the grave, and that God allows mortal man to know many of the joys of the life to come!" Also, written on the page before the dedication page is a quote by Joseph Smith. He said, "All men know that they must die. And it is important that we should understand....our departure hence...It is but reasonable to suppose that God would reveal something in reference to the matter, and it is a subject we ought to study more than any other. We ought to study it day and night, for the world is ignorant in reference to their true condition and relation. If we have any claim on our Heavenly Father for anything, it is for knowledge on this important subject."
I have taken that last quote to heart, and have been studying and reading intensely whenever I have a spare moment so I can learn and understand more of our Heavenly Father's divine plan for all of us, and specifically, for me. Last night I read something that Parley P. Pratt, an early member of the church, had to say on the subject of why righteous spirits return to earth. He was writing about the interest that those Spirits who have died, or what we refer to in the LDS church as those Spirits who are on the other side of the veil that separates earth and heaven, hold in their mortal loved ones. He was writing about the manner in which such beings often communicate with mortals through dreams. He explained it as follows:
"When the outward organs of thought and perception are released from their activity, the nerves unstrung, and the whole of mortal humanity lies hushed in quiet slumbers, in order to renew its strength and vigor, it is then that the spiritual organs are at liberty, in a certain degree, to assume their wonted functions, to recall some faint outlines, some confused and half-defined recollections, of that heavenly world, and those endearing scenes of their former estate, from which they have descended in order to obtain and mature a tabernacle of flesh. Their kindred spirits, their guardian angels then hover about them with the fondest affection, the most anxious solicitude. Spirit communes with spirit, thought meets thought, soul blends with soul in all the raptures of mutual, pure, and eternal love.
In this situation, we frequently hold communication with our departed father, mother, brother, sister, son or daughter; or with the former husband or wife of our bosom, whose affection for us, being rooted and grounded in the eternal elements, or issuing from under the sanctuary of love's eternal fountain, can never be lessened or diminished by death, distance of space, or length of years.
We may, perhaps, have a friend of the other sex, whose pulse beat in unison with our own; whose every thought was big with the aspirations, the hopes of a bright future in union with our own; whose happiness in time or in eternity, would never be fully consummated without that union. Such a one, snatched from time in the very bloom of youth, lives in the other sphere, with the same bright hope, watching our every footstep, in our meanderings through the rugged path of life, with longing desires for our eternal happiness, and eager for our safe arrival in the same sphere.
With what tenderness of love, with what solicitude of affection will they watch over our slumbers, hang about our pillow, and seek to communicate with our spirits, to warn us of dangers or temptation, to comfort and soothe our sorrow, or to ward off the ills which might befall us, or perchance to give us some kind token of remembrance or undying love."
I've thought a great deal about his words since I read them last night. I am well aware that you cannot believe everything you read, but you can take truth from everything you read. If, in fact, there is truth in his words, how does that reconcile itself with the fact that my dreams are not peaceful moments that are conducive to such communication that I pray for daily, but rather are conflicted and anxious moments where my conscious and subconscious thoughts are played out on a nightly basis?
As I referred to in one of my recent posts, I haven't been feeling so well. Actually, my sinuses and cough have pretty much cleared all up, which is a relief. But I'm not talking about that, but instead mean how I've been feeling emotionally. I find myself sometimes feeling such astonishment still, that my Naki isn't going to walk around the corner and into the room. I just expect to see him, and find myself repeatedly let down when I do not. I pray every day, for me and the kids, to feel him in our lives. I don't know what that would actually feel like...to feel him in my life these days. I'm so terribly confused because at times I feel he's so close that it's possible he just might walk around the corner, as if he'd never left. And then when he doesn't, I wonder how I could have let that thought slip by my thought filter.
Somedays I am very successful at pushing the desire to see him to the back of my mind. Those are the days that I am able to not think of me living the rest of my entire mortal life without him, but rather I am able to just limit my perspective to the current day and the current day only. But I've discovered that I am only able to do that for so long, and that it is only a matter of time until all of those thoughts I've been able to suppress come boiling over the surface. How can I find the balance? How can I find the exact frame of mind that will help me live in the most complete state of wholeness that is possible? Right now the see-saw effect of this thought pattern is making me so exhausted. I am having trouble again making myself wake up in the morning. I crave sleep. More accurately, I crave the oblivion that I hope comes with sleep.
I have had some crazy dreams lately. One night I dreamed that it was the night that Naki had died. I saw up in the sky, as he was dying, what looked like a rectangular shaped portal of light. The shape kind of reminded me of one of those huge framed living room mirrors that some people have. In the inside of the frame there was nonstop activity with fragments of light...kind of like you see when Luke travels through Light Speed in Star Wars. I watched how the different stages of the light's patterns matched the different stages of Naki dying, and knew that it was time for him to go just by what the lights were doing. In my dream, time passed. I saw myself trying so hard to do everything that was required of me, all the while checking on that portal and it's level of activity. I knew that if I kept checking on it, that I'd be sure to not miss when it was my turn to go through the portal and be with Naki. Suddenly, one day, I was shocked to find that the portal having just recently been dormant, was now starting to rev up. The light show going on inside of it was beautiful, and I was pretty much hyperventilating in excitement as I could feel my body start lifting off of the ground, gradually making my way towards that opening. The joy that I felt at the thought that I was finally finished with mortality was so overwhelming that I cannot even begin to describe it. At the same time that I recognized how thrilled I was at the prospect of finally being able to see Naki, I corrected myself and reminded myself that I should be just as excited if not more that I would finally be able to see God and Jesus Christ, too. All of a sudden, just as I was almost to the portal, I felt an overwhelmingly powerful pull back to earth. As my arms were outreached heavenward, I glanced behind me and saw all six of my beautiful girls, standing as a group, with all of their arms outstretched to me, as they were crying out for me to stay. I knew instantly that I would stay with them and that it was the right thing to do. But the pain of making the choice to put my arms down back by my side and return back to the ground was intense and frustrating. The mental tug of war that I play through in my head is making me so tired.
I have felt the pull to start the process of going back to school...NOT something I'm all that thrilled about, for sure. I had been doing a little bit of research before I went to bed, and so the thoughts about what kind of job will provide the right kind of flexible hours that I need must have been at the front of my mind. In my dream, or should I call it a nightmare, I dreamt that once again, I was forced to leave my babies in someone else's care, as I went off to either go to school or go to work...I'm not sure which one. When I returned to get the girls much to my dismay no one could find Ane. For some reason the caretaker's location was near a body of water. I eventually located Ane, who in the dream was the same age she is now, playing at the edge of a deep and dangerous body of water, all alone, about to be overtaken by the powerful water. I awoke with such frustration at the circumstances that I feel somewhat pushed into, and more than a bit antsy about not being the one to take care of my babies all the time.
One book I've been reading off and on over the last couple of months is called Life Everlasting written by Duane S. Crowther. In his words in the introduction as to the purpose of this book, he writes, "This volume is not a fanciful collection of consoling poetry and funeral phraseology. It is a careful analysis of the experiences of dozens of reliable individuals who have died and then returned to life, and of scores of others who have been visited by departed spirits. It is a gathering together of revelation after revelation telling of the glorious life which awaits the righteous. It is my personal witness that life continues beyond the grave, and that God allows mortal man to know many of the joys of the life to come!" Also, written on the page before the dedication page is a quote by Joseph Smith. He said, "All men know that they must die. And it is important that we should understand....our departure hence...It is but reasonable to suppose that God would reveal something in reference to the matter, and it is a subject we ought to study more than any other. We ought to study it day and night, for the world is ignorant in reference to their true condition and relation. If we have any claim on our Heavenly Father for anything, it is for knowledge on this important subject."
I have taken that last quote to heart, and have been studying and reading intensely whenever I have a spare moment so I can learn and understand more of our Heavenly Father's divine plan for all of us, and specifically, for me. Last night I read something that Parley P. Pratt, an early member of the church, had to say on the subject of why righteous spirits return to earth. He was writing about the interest that those Spirits who have died, or what we refer to in the LDS church as those Spirits who are on the other side of the veil that separates earth and heaven, hold in their mortal loved ones. He was writing about the manner in which such beings often communicate with mortals through dreams. He explained it as follows:
"When the outward organs of thought and perception are released from their activity, the nerves unstrung, and the whole of mortal humanity lies hushed in quiet slumbers, in order to renew its strength and vigor, it is then that the spiritual organs are at liberty, in a certain degree, to assume their wonted functions, to recall some faint outlines, some confused and half-defined recollections, of that heavenly world, and those endearing scenes of their former estate, from which they have descended in order to obtain and mature a tabernacle of flesh. Their kindred spirits, their guardian angels then hover about them with the fondest affection, the most anxious solicitude. Spirit communes with spirit, thought meets thought, soul blends with soul in all the raptures of mutual, pure, and eternal love.
In this situation, we frequently hold communication with our departed father, mother, brother, sister, son or daughter; or with the former husband or wife of our bosom, whose affection for us, being rooted and grounded in the eternal elements, or issuing from under the sanctuary of love's eternal fountain, can never be lessened or diminished by death, distance of space, or length of years.
We may, perhaps, have a friend of the other sex, whose pulse beat in unison with our own; whose every thought was big with the aspirations, the hopes of a bright future in union with our own; whose happiness in time or in eternity, would never be fully consummated without that union. Such a one, snatched from time in the very bloom of youth, lives in the other sphere, with the same bright hope, watching our every footstep, in our meanderings through the rugged path of life, with longing desires for our eternal happiness, and eager for our safe arrival in the same sphere.
With what tenderness of love, with what solicitude of affection will they watch over our slumbers, hang about our pillow, and seek to communicate with our spirits, to warn us of dangers or temptation, to comfort and soothe our sorrow, or to ward off the ills which might befall us, or perchance to give us some kind token of remembrance or undying love."
I've thought a great deal about his words since I read them last night. I am well aware that you cannot believe everything you read, but you can take truth from everything you read. If, in fact, there is truth in his words, how does that reconcile itself with the fact that my dreams are not peaceful moments that are conducive to such communication that I pray for daily, but rather are conflicted and anxious moments where my conscious and subconscious thoughts are played out on a nightly basis?
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Ever the Competitor
We were sitting around the counter in the kitchen tonight eating yummy treats that Aunt Ginny had made with the help of the girlies from a recipe their Auntie Jackie had posted on her cooking blog. Everyone was goofing around, trying to get extra messy because Auntie Ginny had her camera out. Out of the blue, Lose shouts out,
"I call dibbs on coming out of the clouds with Dad first!"
A comment like that can leave a lady a bit taken aback. So I asked her, "What do you mean, Lose?"
And she responded, "You know, when we get resurrected and come out of the clouds with Dad and Jesus at the Second Coming...I call dibbs on coming out of the clouds first with them."
Well, at least she's finding a way to put a positive spin on it. Apparently, we have a tiche of clarification as to the order of some things, but at least she has a goal to be with the two best people possible at the most important event to come.
"I call dibbs on coming out of the clouds with Dad first!"
A comment like that can leave a lady a bit taken aback. So I asked her, "What do you mean, Lose?"
And she responded, "You know, when we get resurrected and come out of the clouds with Dad and Jesus at the Second Coming...I call dibbs on coming out of the clouds first with them."
Well, at least she's finding a way to put a positive spin on it. Apparently, we have a tiche of clarification as to the order of some things, but at least she has a goal to be with the two best people possible at the most important event to come.
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