It Will Get Better

This morning I had a mental breakdown.  I did.  I'm not ashamed.  My boys were being a bit rowdy and acting in a way that I felt like I didn't even know them.  All I kept thinking was, "If Steve were here he would know what to do." Or at least I would have a tag team partner with which to tame the crazy.  It never helps that these situations occur when I haven't slept well.  Sleeping has always been a bit of a monster for me. One that is not quite tamed, but it is getting better.

Truth be told, they were just being boys.  Most of the time I adore their craziness, and am eager to take part in the fun and laughter, but today it was just too much.  Now for those of you who have been raising your kiddos on your own for a long time- I have no right to complain, I realize this.  To have my best friend leave the building, have to start work, attempt to go to school, raise three boys, and find some sort of mental stability- well sometimes I think I'm in some big dramatic made for TV episode, only there are no commercial breaks.

So I ran away.  I told my Mom I was leaving, got into the car, and left.  I ended up driving to the cemetery and parking across from Steve's marker.  I walked over to it and plopped myself down and just sobbed. Typically I do not run.  I let the crazy pass and then I deal with it all.  This time, I had reached a point where destruction was imminent and I knew my kids were in safe hands- so I left before I damaged the relationship I have with my boys.  There was such a gut wrenching pull of missing, that I couldn't do anything else but cry- and breath.  Then a lady came up to me and asked if I'd seen her dog.  If this was a TV drama, that would not have happened.  I hiccuped that I had not seen her dog and she went on her merry way.  Then the tears slipped back down my cheeks.  Just when I was about to lose myself to the grief again, a couple of ladies in spandex walked by.  They were chatting about some lady named "Donna" who had two girls.  One was adorable, the other quite a pill and what was Donna going to do about the younger one?

I stared incredulously wondering how they could be gossiping at a time like this?  Didn't they know I was in the middle of a breakdown? For the love ladies!!

Looking for some semblance of sanity I looked across the expanse of green and granite and this is what I saw:

 After I spied this gentleman, he got up.  He picked up the metal vase connected to the marker he was visiting and brought it toward me.  As he got closer I dropped my gaze and put my head in my hands.  Then we did something unexpected and tapped his toe on my name.  He then asked, "Is this you?"  My first thought was "Seriously? Can't a girl get a break?" But I replied that it was, and then he tapped Stephen's name and asked who that was? I answered that it was my husband.  He then patted my head and started walking saying simply, "You are young.  It will get better."  He then filled the vase with water a bit away and walked back to where he had started. I felt a bit like a stalker as I watched him pull a cellophane wrapped bunch of flowers from his chair, sit down, taking the scissors from the cup holder on the chair, he trimmed the stems, placed them in the vase and arranged them to his liking.  He then wadded up the cellophane in his hand, put the scissors back in the holder, and sat back in his chair- just sitting.

It made me wonder how long he had been doing that.  How often had he come to this place, filled the vase, trimmed the flowers and just sat?  Based upon those thoughts I really had to wonder if it really does ever get better?

I am just me.  I suppose it will get better.  It has to, right?  My reasonable side understands this, but that side isn't always in charge.  Oftentimes my heart wins out and I end up a crying, sad little mess.

So has been tricky.  What I realized in this experience with the lady and her dog, and the gossip girls walking by, as well as the man with the vase- they are still living.  Life is still moving and  I am still here.  I'm still in love with breathing in and out.  I still enjoy the wind in the trees and the sun on my face.  I just wish I had Steve to share it all with.  So on we go: living, breathing, experiencing, and finding a way to handle all that this life throws at us.

All my love,
Kami

Biggie and the North Star

Over the past weekend we had the opportunity to go camping with family.  It was a whirlwind of ATVs, campfires and delicious food.  On the last night of our camp out the boys and I sat beneath a beautiful, starry night seeking out old constellations and attempting to pick out new ones.

We were tucked quietly into camping chairs, with our heads tilted back and a light breeze blowing when one of my lovely nieces walked over to me and asked where the star was that Jesus lived on.  She climbed up onto my lap and tilted her head against my shoulder, thumb in her mouth, little fingers working a strand of hair.  Her innocence and faith was remarkable.

I explained to her that I wasn't sure which star it was that Jesus lived on, but that I'm sure that He was there and was aware that we were there too.  She then asked me another very insightful question for one so young- she is only 4.

"Which star is Biggie's?"  Such a simple question, but her eyes looked into mine in the darkness and her brow furrowed because she really wanted to know.  I told her that her uncle, "Biggie" didn't have a star yet, but that we should definitely pick one out for him that night.

The boys, my niece and I scanned the night sky looking for the best possible star to name for Steve and to serve as a reminder that he, too, was always near and never far away.  After a short discussion we settled on Polaris.  It is the given name for the North star.  I spoke with the kids about how the North star always stands straight and true in the direction for which it is named, much like their dad and uncle.  No one ever doubted where Steve stood.  He knew what was right, he knew what needed to be done, he never wavered- he has always been our constant.

That night Polaris became Biggie's Star.  So, when you look up into the night sky and see the star just right of the Big Dipper, bright and clear- standing constant in its direction I hope you think of Steve.  I know he's guiding us throughout this journey.  We are still loved by a wonderful man.  We are still inspired and strengthened by the path he walked.  We walk the same path in the faith that one day we will all stand together again- constant and true to one another.

Much love,
Kami

What's in a Name...?

The title of this blog was a tricky one to come up with.  When an obituary is written it is customary to list the people in their life who are still here.  When Stephen passed away, I was listed as a survivor- with his children, parents, brothers, and their wives.  I think the list should have included anyone he came in contact with because if you knew him, you were his friend and after you'd left him: you were never the same. Unfortunately obituaries are costly and in order to list everyone we would have had to be millionaires, which we are not.
This blog is primarily for the purpose of expressing the thought processes that I've been having in working through the hardest moment in life that I think anyone has to come through- the death of someone they love. In talking with a lot of people, I don't think it matters whether you've lost a child, a parent, a spouse, a friend- the hole that is left in their leaving is the hardest part.  It is the missing that is mind-numbing at times.

A person that I'm meeting with has asked me to write about the day that Steve passed away.  I've tried at least a dozen times to write it out, but I don't think I'm quite ready yet.  It keeps getting stuck in my fingers, in my mind, and the scream that never came out that day is also caught there.  All sorts of things, ideas; just stuck.
This will stand as a record as to how we've managed to work through that day, month, this year.  I don't think it will be pretty, but it will be honest.  Even as I'm writing this my first instinct is to never publish it or make it public, because there are so many out there that would choose not to share this type of sorrow or pain or even the process through it all.  I've done this once before with my family's journey through cervical cancer and how we survived that.  I'm only still here because of the love of a good man and what he saw in me and helped me to see in myself.  So to those that are mortified that I'm opening this up- I'll apologize once.  Please don't read this if it makes you angry, because I think it will actually help me to be free. I'm sorry if that hurts you in the process.
To my beautiful boys, hopefully this will someday give you insight into what I was thinking during those times when I just couldn't bring myself to tell you, when you'd ask me.  Please know that I love you- more than life itself and I am so proud of you in every capacity that you are.
If you've read it through to this point- thank you.  If you're waiting for me to get on with it, I promise that I will but I just wanted anyone and everyone to know what was in a name.....more specifically what is in the name of the blog.
I am surviving McKane and someday I hope to do more than just survive.

All my love,
Kami