Saturday, June 30, 2012

Friday, June 29, 2012

pep rally

In twenty four hours I am closing the books and locking up shop with this month this year.  A few days ago I mentioned how hard June has been.  I wish you all could experience first hand what I did after I put up those words.  People supported me like no other.  I felt like I was the recipient of the best pep rally I have ever been to.  It was crazy.  I know that has been happening.  It's been happening since the phone rang April 1st and I went to the hospital.  But I felt like I had the wherewithal to see it happen these last few days.

I have felt people praying for me.  I have been in such a better way.  I have sang happier songs, looked people more in the eye, and felt fresh hope brewing up in me.  I have been feeling those prayers.  I have gotten notes, texts, emails, and letters (I love when people encourage me).  People have left funny and empowering comments that I have read over and over.  Dear friends fed me, sent me presents, brought me groceries, delivered red velvet ice cream (did you know that existed?  I had no idea.  I'm a changed woman).  People I don't know said that I matter; they care about me, and they are praying for Harps and I.

A while ago I was talking to a lady I admire like crazy.  She wrote me the nicest thing and I wrote it down.  She said, "you're out in the middle of the river, holding onto a log.  All of us out on the riverbanks are cheering you on.  We can't get into the water to try to grab you; you have to fight to stay afloat yourself.  It must be a lonely fight.  Just don't forget the ringing of our cheers in your ears."  June felt like a lonely fight.  I had hard days to get through that I needed Matt for.  But then I heard those good cheers ringing in my ears.  And things felt much, much better.  Thank you.

Saturday, June 23, 2012


June is kicking my ever loving ass.

I have been dreading June since last June.  Dates are hard for me and I knew I would have a hard time making it through this month.  When I lost Matt two other dates got added to the June calendar that I had to get through.  So I knew it was coming.  And I was right.  It is a beat down of the worst kind.  I am using every last bit of energy just to get through each day.

People say kindly to me, "do whatever you need to do; be however you need to do."  I say, "thank you." 

This breaks down somewhere though.  Good sentiment, but what if what I really want to do is hide under the covers and cry and watch tv and drink bloody marys?  That is not really a possibility.  I have a daughter.  I have to work sometimes.  I have laundry that I don't actually do but I spend a lot of time thinking about.  It doesn't really seem like a viable option to do whatever feels best.  So I am just plodding and stumbling through.

So here is my plan for the next seven days.  I'll use a boxing analogy because the best analogies are the ones where you have no idea what you are actually talking about.  I've been fighting this match for a little while now.  I'm really tired and I've been getting pretty banged up.  And these last few punches have got me down on the ground.  It doesn't look great for me.  It's not good at all.  I'm just laying here dazed and blinking and still.  But before it's too late I'm going to get up.  I'm going to stand up, look June dead in the eyes, and throw a knock out punch.  And it'll be great.  Just wait and see.  

My knock out punch will probably look like making a real trip to the grocery store, or folding the basket of laundry that has been sitting in the living room for two weeks.  I am going stand up and get things done, even though it just means washing my hair two days in a row, playing Barbies, finishing something I start without wandering away, or not losing important things I need for a meeting.  I might be too worn out to put my hands up in the air.  I'll just close my eyes and smile.  But it's coming.  I'm going to do it.  I'm getting back up.  

First I just need to lay here a little bit longer.

Monday, June 18, 2012

that sweet man

I was outside for a few hours this evening.  I got home and put the girl into bed.  It was late and quiet in my house.  I started thinking about going to bed.  I put my head down to do something and my hair fell forward.  It smelled like sunshine.  Which is exactly what Matt smelled like most of the time.  I wish he was in bed falling asleep beside me so much.  I would try to talk and tell him things -- often affirming things about him.  He usually wanted none of it -- when he was tired he was tired.  I would say something, and he would reply firmly, "goodNIGHT, Mol." Then I would roll my eyes in the dark and kiss him goodnight.  Oh I miss him.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

a thankful note

I am thankful that people subscribe to these long and rambling and usually sad posts.  Thank you.  I am thankful for the kind comments people leave.  I am thankful for the sweet cards I get in the mail.  I am thankful that people remember me and remember my girl.  Thank you.  It is the best encouragement.  I am thankful for the generous and thoughtful things that people have given me.  People are wonderful to us.  I don't deserve it.  But I love it and am grateful.  Thank you.

I am thankful for my daughter.  I am thankful that she is full of light and grace and tenderness and hilarious comments. I am thankful that she loves swimming and thinks she owns it with a kick board.  I am thankful that she still thinks I'm cool sometimes.  I am thankful she has more people that love her than almost anyone.  I am thankful for her friends.  Last week we stayed with our besties for a few days.  Harper and her friend have been missing each other this weekend.  Her girlfriend gave her mom this message for me to relay to Harps "I want Harper to always be here.  I know we'd argue but that's okay.  And I know what it'd be about.  Sometimes my little brother hurts me and Harper says, 'it's okay Benny; you're just so cute.' And I'm like, 'unbelievable, I thought I was your best friend.'" Come on - that is awesome.  I'm thankful for the minds of five year olds and summer vacation.

I am thankful for the good people that are taking care of me.  I could just list a bazillion names here.  I am so fortunate to have people that love me and want good things for me.  I hope that I have the chance to love other like they are loving me these days.  I feel selfish and humbled and needy.  But I wouldn't be making it without them.  So I'm deeply thankful.

I am thankful for simple pleasures.  A few quiet minutes by myself.  Dr. Pepper (always, right?).  A great book I read (Bel Canto by Ann Patchett.  If you like beautiful things you will read this.).  Good music with perfect lyrics.  A great laugh.  A funny pin on Pinterest.  I can't tell you why those "Hey Girl" Ryan Gosling pictures make me laugh like they do.  An episode of Modern Family while I eat a cupcake in bed.  What? Texts from people that check on me.

I had a day that was pretty hard to get through this past week.  A significant date for Matt and I.  I let myself be as sad as I wanted to.  I listened to sad songs and looked at things from our life.  It was pretty crushing.  I'll keep the details of it for myself.  However, in the midst of that I felt God's joy.  And for that I was the most thankful.  This life is hard.  It's bitter and ugly and feels like a beat down.  It is also filled with the sweetest joys and some happinesses that you couldn't make up if you tried to.  I'm crabby today.  Like you would NOT believe.  But I'm trying to choose joy.  I'm remembering that there is so much good.  There is much to be thankful for.  I'm going to go squeeze my girl.


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

a public pep talk

this is what I am saying to myself today

Hey Girl,

You have been gaging your level of okay-ness by public misdeeds.  You figured you would know when you lost your mind by all of the obvious signs: running down the street naked, spending every penny you have on Easter candy and mystery books, punching a person in line at Target, shaving your head for sport, etc.  You figured since you are clothed, paying the bills, keeping your hands to yourself, and putting your dirty hair in a ponytail you must be making it.  And that's all true, Lady.  You are making it.

Sometimes it doesn't feel so obvious.  That's okay too.  A couple of days the dogs came in the house with a dead animal.  Legs were hanging out of one dog's mouth.  Legs.  Then that dog came into your house.  Mind.  Lost. But you made it.  You so made it.  

Yes you screamed a lot of bad words, put your head against the back door and cried, closed your eyes, and whispered, "I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this." And then you looked at those dogs with all of the hate in your heart, locked the door (instead of putting them in the house as intended), got Harper in the car and left.  You helped your sister with something and acted like a mostly functioning person.

You went to Wal-Mart.  Shudder.

And that's what making it looked like that day.  You nailed it.  

So you couldn't fix that thing you thought you could and sat on the floor and cried instead.  Then you got Harper a drink of water and ate some chips.  Your daughter usually brushes her teeth.  One day won't leave permanent damage.  Most days you feed her fruits and vegetables. Here is the bottom line: you are making it even when you feel like you're not. Eat your chips. 

You are leaning on a lot of people.  They are good, good people and they will keep letting you.  It isn't pretty.  There is a lot of swearing.  You're making it.