Celebration of Life

We had Grampie's celebration of life tonight, the burial is tomorrow.  I felt bad because I didn't cry really during it, I have no tears left to cry.  This summer has emotionally drained me like never before.  I'm exhausted on all fronts: mentally, emotionally, and physically.  I need to sleep for approximately 7551 years.  Give or take.  It was a beautiful ceremony, the flowers were gorgeous, there were funny and sweet pictures, the message of salvation (which Grampie had 2 different ones in his Bible and one was used for part of the message) was so clear and comforting.  Everybody shared such good memories during the ceremony, and of course my dad's cousin Wendy made everybody cry again with her memories (she did the same thing at my Grammie's ceremony).  I just didn't cry.  I shed maybe 2 tears during Wendy's stories, but that was it.  It'll hit me eventually, once I've had time to build up some emotion again, then it'll all go away in one fell swoop.  It's going to be a roller coaster ride for a while, and it's going to take a very long time to recover from this summer.  Thank goodness I have crafts to keep my hands busy while my mind wanders and tries to recover.  Hopefully I'll be going out soon to get the fabric I need for my Christmas presents, and I need to find sales on mason jars.  For now I'm going to work on finishing the afghan I was originally making for Grammie while she was in the nursing home so I can snuggle with it this winter.  Til next time.

Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright

Of all the things I promised I'd do at the beginning of this year, I'm glad the one I've kept is that this year would be better than last year.  Let me rephrase, my attitude about the year would be better, no matter what happened.  Truthfully this has been the hardest year of my life so far.  Start the year off with major money struggles, in April we found out my boyfriend's mom (who I also considered a mother) had stage 4 colon cancer, that same month my dad's mom went into a hospital as her health was declining very fast and she passed at the beginning of July, in the middle of August my boyfriend's mom passed, in September my cousin's grandfather (non-mutual, but always treated me like one of his own) passed, and now my dad's dad is getting ready to go into hospice as his time is drawing to an end.  That doesn't include the every day struggles life will throw one's way.  Needless to say my resolution to stop going to Dunkin Donuts has been very wishy washy.  I'm exhausted, I've been stress eating so I've gained about 20 pounds, and I have almost no more tears left.  I helped Grampie with his lunch today in the hospital, and just about had to feed him his supper.  He's so different from the man that taught me to ride a bike, play badmitton, who convinced me that $.25 a brown paper lunch bag was a substantial amount of money for picking acorns out of his yard, who I'd sit and watch do paint-by-numbers, puzzles, stained glass, make ornaments for Christmas.  He has always been so strong, and he's so weak now.  I'm not ready for this.  I'm not ok.  But I keep reminding myself that God has a plan, that He's in control, that I'll see all these people again.  So I keep telling myself that I AM ok, and someday I will be.  Not today, probably not before next year honestly, but I will be.  And that's all I really need to know right now.

Grammie

This post is really for me, I just need a place where I can put down my thoughts and memories.  It's taken me a while to write about it, just one of those things where I needed some time.  Not sure how emotional I'll end up getting so if you stop reading now I won't judge.  Grammie (my dad's mom) passed away July 7th, almost 3 weeks ago, and the funeral was July 10th.  It was very expected, honestly I think it was welcome for most of the family.  She'd been incredibly sick, not something that could be fixed or made better, so her going means she is now out of pain and suffering.  People tell me "that doesn't make it any easier" and I agree with them so I don't have to talk about it, but it does make it easier.  I know she's in heaven now, she's perfect now, no more anger, hurt, tears, fear, tiredness, sickness.  It's far easier to let her go knowing she's so much better off.  Does it hurt?  Yes.  Do I still tear up?  Yes.  She was my Grammie after all.  But it doesn't hurt for the reasons everybody assumes it hurts.  It hurts because I wish I'd spent more time with her.  It hurts because I wish she would have chosen to spend time with me as a kid instead of sitting me down in front of a TV.  I have a Pandora bracelet I got a few years ago and I decided that I would only buy new charms for important events in my life, deaths of people I love being some of those events.  My Grammie's charm?  It's going to be a baseball, because she was always sitting and watching the Red Sox play.  Don't get me wrong, I don't have any bad memories of her, I honestly can't think of a time when I was mad at her, I just don't have any really good memories of her either.  Grampie was always the one who spent time with me and my brother.  He made peeling an apple for a snack one of the highlights of our day.  He made picking acorns off his lawn a competition we looked forward to.  He taught me how to ride a bike and how to play badmitton (not that I'm any good but that's beside the point).  Getting Grampie Christmas gifts has always been far easier because he likes to do things: paint by numbers, puzzles, and many other things that he's sadly given up over the years because he can't do them any more.  Grammie...not so much.  I know that as a kid there isn't a lot I could have done that would have changed anything, but I definitely feel like I could have done things different over the last few years.  Honestly I didn't have the money to drive up to see them as often as I would have liked.  Just a fact.  But the times I did make it up there I could have spent more time, more quality time.  I could have written letters (trying to talk to either one of them on the phone was a hassle).  Really the best memories I have of Grammie are in the last couple years, when I would go up and we actually did just sit and talk.  Most of it was in the living room while watching TV but we'd still just chat.  I wish I'd done more of that.  Gotten to know her better.  I think that's my biggest regret, I never really got to know her.  Not that she made it easy, and from the stories I do know/have heard, nobody probably really did.  I wish I'd gotten a good picture of the two of us.  I wish I'd put a little more thought and time into gifts for her.  I wish I'd gone to spend more time with her.  What hurts isn't that she's gone, it's the regrets.  I know everybody always has regrets, but they always miss the person too.  I don't really miss her, there's not much for me to miss.  Which is part of the regret.  It hurts to see Grampie.  That's the worst.  That's the thing that makes me cry every time I think about it.  I'm trying to write him a letter every day now, I know it won't make up for anything, just trying to be better about things now.  I also know he probably won't be around much longer, but after I visited 2 weeks after Grammie passed, I learned that loneliness can be a physical thing, not just emotional, and I know it's not the same as being there in person, but I'm hoping it'll give him something to look forward to and will hopefully make his days a little brighter.  I think my favorite memories of Grammie are when they lived at Indian Ledge.  The closet under the stairs where all the toys were stored that my cousins and brother and I could play in for hours, all the dolls she had for us (my poor brother haha), the "munchkin room" that was especially reserved for us grandkids to spend the night, finally being able to sleep in the "big room" and sneaking out to look out over the balcony that looked into the living room and getting caught and thinking it was funny and being terrified for my life at the same time, being allowed to play her puzzle game on her computer and the fish one being my favorite, graham crackers and milk in the kitchen.  Nothing terribly outstanding, and nothing really special that she did, just that honestly most of my memories are there really.  The place they lived next she always seemed to be grumpy, and then when they had their house built in Shapleigh we moved away so I couldn't make memories there really.  I guess the nostalgic memories are what I miss the most.  I wish I could burn them on a DVD so I could just watch them play over and over.  I wish I could see all those memories through my eyes now, so I could watch her reactions/expressions/body language and learn about her that way.  I feel like even though she wasn't directly involved in a lot of my "good" memories, she was the one that provided the place for those memories to be made, and I feel like I'm a lot like her.  I don't like to be the center of attention so I tend to try and blend into the background and let other people have fun; if I plan a party I work in the background and let other people have fun.  I don't put myself out there to make good memories with people.  I don't take enough pictures with people.  I don't tell people I appreciate them and that something we did is a good memory for me and make sure it was for them too.  I make mediocre memories I feel like, like Grammie did.  I don't want people to just have OK memories of me.  And I think that's another reason I'm not "sad/upset" that she's gone because it really made me think about that, and hopefully I'll make a change in my life because of it.  Please don't think that I'm an uncaring, insensitive person.  If you'd known Grammie you'd probably feel the same way too.  Who knows, maybe I'll figure out a different charm for my bracelet, something based off change or something along those lines.  For now I'm going to try to not hold back.  Make memories.  Be more than a chat over a cup of coffee with people.

"Let the word of Christ dwell in you..."

Random thought for today :)

As I'm working on more washcloths today my mind was wandering through a LOT of different things, and one thought that crossed my mind was "let the love of God dwell in you richly".  I was mis-remembering the verse a tad, it says the "word of Christ" but I think it at least includes love (Colossians 3:16).  The word of Christ would obviously be the Gospel and, though not the only focus, one of the biggest parts of that is Christ's love for us.  And it got me thinking about how "dwell" in that verse has always been more of a passive verb for me, like it's just sitting there and filling my heart, which isn't bad per se, but I think it's really more of an active verb.  After all, wasn't Christ's love for us active?  I think it means to be such a part of our lives that we can't help but show it to others, it should be overflowing from us. John 15:12 says "This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you." Christ's love for us was (and is) all-consuming, it was the focus of His entire life here on earth.  I'd have to love somebody an awful lot to die for them, and He died for the entirety of human kind.  That's a LOT of love.  And we're to love others the way He loved us.  It should be an active part of our lives, no matter who we're dealing with.  What a challenge!  That's going to be one of my goals for the rest of the year, to actively love other people, even if I can only do it in small ways.  Already have some thoughts in mind so we'll see how well this plays out :)  Until next time!

Reflections

I was reading a friends status on facebook today and there's some very similar things going on in her life that there were going on in mine when I left home at 19.  As I was reading through some of the responses it made me sad to see so many OLDER adults (she's 19 now herself-issues with parents) feeding into it.  I remember being there, I can feel the pain like it was yesterday, believe me I haven't forgotten any of that, and I know that what I felt was real, and that yes my parents were wrong at times, much like my friends situation, but I too had adults feed into my situation as well, and I think that was truly more harmful for me than it was helpful.  Yes it's nice to know that I was "justified" in my thinking and pain back then, but at the same time that shouldn't have been where they all stopped.  That was the job of my friends, to tell me I'm right and leave it at that.  All the adults I talked to should have kept going.  There should have been some "but" in there somewhere.  "But" have you tried talking to them about how you're feeling, "but" are you 100% truthful in your retelling of the events, "but" what's the motive behind what they're saying/doing, etc.  Not that understanding them would have made them any more right, but nobody even tried to tell me to understand them or to think about things from a different angle, and for sure nobody tried to tell me to talk to them about anything.  Everybody told me it was useless because they wouldn't listen anyway.  What a lie.  Would any of that made a difference in the choices I made back then?  Maybe, maybe not.  If I had chosen to talk to them, certainly things would have been much different.  And yes, I know that all things work together for good, for sure good things have happened to me BECAUSE I left home that wouldn't have if I had stayed, I've learned a LOT since I've left home, most of which haven't been easy lessons.  Would I ultimately trade the events that took place?  No, I wouldn't at this point in my life.  I'm glad for what I've learned and where I've come, I'm a stronger and better person because of it.  Do I wish I would have gone about things differently, yes.  I wish I would have talked to my parents, I wish I would have made the decision with them to move back home to Maine instead of running here to try and escape my problems (which for the record followed me anyway).  Be careful with how much and what you agree with when people tell you their problems, especially if they respect you in any way, shape, or form, your words mean a LOT more to them than the average joe shmo off the street.  Just some thoughts...