Fear, Grief, and Shoelaces Tied

My mom has Non Hodgkins Lymphoma.  She's had it for 14 years. She had chemo today.  The future is scary.  She is scared.  I am scared for her.  She's already done over and beyond better than they ever hoped... but how long can this go on?  Her health is bad.  I am scared for my mom.

Today my 11 yr old daughter learned to tie her shoes finally.  She is globally delayed, and visually impaired.  Motor skills have never been her strong point.  But by golly, she can tie her shoes now. It's interesting to me that when she was five years old she could correctly use the word 'facetious', and knew exactly what it meant, and has a bigger vocabulary than many adults, but the child just learned to tie her shoes.  How crazy is that?!  

I have been reading my friend's story of her son's short life... one day.. and his death.  It's hard to read.  It makes me think.  Makes me thankful for my children.  I have never lost a child.  But I do grieve the children I might have had... had I known what I was doing... and very well could have literally flushed away a baby of mine and never even known about it.  That 'what if' is something I have to live with every single day.  My penance for not trusting God enough.. and for going the way of the world instead of the Cross.

I've lost my grandpop, and I lost my best friend Stephanie.   Grandpop died the day before my 40th birthday.  Funny.  I was so 'worried' about turning 40... and then as it turned out, it didn't matter.  He was 40 when I was born.  I was hours shy of 40 when he died.  I didn't want my birthday to come.  I convinced myself that if I could just NOT turn 40, then grandpop would live.  It didn't work out that way.  Momma says that she thinks I should consider it an honor that Grandpop died at my birthday.  I can't though.  It hurts too much.

When Stephanie died, it was the week before my birthday.  November 18th.  I still cry sometimes when I think of her.  I still talk to her... I think she can hear me.  I can feel her.. and I can feel grandpop.  I have felt two of my grandmothers too, in the past.  One came to me once in a very vivid dream, just two days before she died, to tell me goodbye.  Stephanie has come to me twice since her death.  Once telling me she was in Heaven, and she was okay.  The other time to help me move past a bad point I was at....  she was literally an answer to a prayer.  People may think I'm nuts.  No... I'm not.  Our loved ones are still our loved ones.  Grandpop has never come to me.  Perhaps because as painful as his death was for me, I was able to accept it better.  After all, he'd lived a long, full, and happy life.  He was loved, and absolutely LOVED all of us.  He loved Jesus, and I know that Grandpop is happy in Heaven...  maybe that's why his was easier.  Because I had no doubts with Grandpop, and knew he was okay.  He literally went to his reward.  Stephanie was too young, and there were, for me, too many questions and fears and doubts and anger and profound grief.  Maybe that's why her death was so difficult for me.

So why all this today?  I had to take a class this morning... Protecting God's Children... They showed a film I can only describe as 'icky'.  About perverts.  About how they prey on kids, and even vulnerable adults.  I felt sick after seeing the film.  It brought back memories for me... ones I'd forgotten about.  It also brought back suspicions of people I've known...afterward there was a long discussion.. but it was... opening of a can of worms.  I can't get it out of my head now.  It angers me to know that we do so much to protect our families and our loved ones... but these predators watch, and wait, and plan.  To do their worst.  Sickos.  And what do I do?  Come home and pick up the grief book about my friend's precious little son.  

My highlight of the day... my Robyn tying her shoes.  Wow.  LOL  That sounds so bad!!

I've done a lot of crying today... trying to hide it from my hubby who can't understand why I'm so sensitive and all these tears for "just a class" I took.  I don't think he knows about the book I'm reading, or where my brain is at while I'm reading.  He knows I talked to momma, but I doubt he knows how worried I am.  It's not that I don't think that men worry and grieve... that's silly.. of course I know that they do.  I just don't think that they do it the same way women do... and as far as that goes... we are all individuals... so is our grief.  

The day and time is going to come... I will have more heartache and grief.  I know that... it is part of life.  Part of living and dying.  I wonder how I will handle it.  I didn't handle it good at all when Steph died.  I sobbed every day literally for months. I had never been so grief stricken in all my life.  I loved her like a sister.  God... I still miss her so much.  I think of her still, and sometimes still cry.  The pain is still there, but eased.  

My mom always warned me about "borrowing trouble".  I wonder if that's exactly what I am doing this evening.  Borrowing trouble.  But today has been full of reminders of people whom I've loved, and their passings... of horrible memories and revelations that set inside me hurt and disgust and anger... too much... and I'm spending tonight trying to process it all.

Therapy is sounding pretty darn good to me at this point.

My bright spot of the day... tied shoes.  Messily  and awkwardly tied, but tied nonetheless.  

I wish I could talk to my priest.. like.. NOW.  I wish I could spend the night in the Adoration chapel at St Paul's.  But instead I will weep silently tonight, next to my husband, and pray.  I just don't what else I can do right now... so all I can do.. is to 'be'.  And give it all to God.  He can handle any mess I give him.  And it's a good thing..  because this one's a doozie.