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Monday, July 28, 2003
Now and Then
This time of year is always a bit hard for me. At least is has been for the last six years. Friday is, or would have been, however you look at it, my brother's birthday. Zachary died almost six years ago, at the age of seventeen. That is way too young. I find myself dividing my life into segments, before Zach died(bzd), and after Zach died(azd).
In the BZD era, life was good. Birthdays were something to be celebrated, not mourned. Now every August 1st I can not help but ponder what life would be like, how things might be different, if only things were different. Alas, they are different, just not in the way that I long for. Each birthday that has passed, I watch my mom and dad quietly observe the day doing activities that they correlate with the BZD era. It is sad. Not in a pathetic, oh those poor people, sort of way, more in a no matter how hard we try to keep things the same, they have definitely changed, sort of way.
As a mother, I can not help but put myself in their shoes. I can not, will not, imagine the devastation of my child dying. It was horrid when my brother died, and that is so much different. I felt as if I would suffocate in my own grief, and mercilessly, I did not. I was forced to endure it. I don't know how any parent survives that. And they live to laugh again. That in itself is a miracle to me.
Sometimes, at night, I sit on the porch, alone, close my eyes, and try to remember. I try to remember what he smelled like, what, exactly, his voice sounded like, and how tall he was. I think really hard, and try to remember, the last time that I told him that I loved him....months...years before? There are times when my mind spins and grasps trying to remember details that are slipping away from me. I don't know, for certain, when the last time that I saw him was....was it 8 days BZD or just 2, like I think? Sometimes, I can't remember. Then, I sit there, alone, sobbing because I am losing my brother again. What if I forget? What if my memories of him, of us, of my family BZD, slowly slip away, unnoticed, bit by bit, until one day they are gone? I am terrified that one day the sound of his voice will never again echo in my ears. The scent of his cologne will be overcome by the scent of the funeral home, where I last saw him. That scent is vivid and fresh in my mind. That scent I will never forget.
I have a lot of memories of him as a child, between the ages of four and twelve, give or take a couple. Each year on his birthday, I think of the one where all of our cousins were there, he was about five, and we played outside for hours. I remember his chocolate cake, his gifted skateboard, and the fun that we had. Those were the good ole days.
Note to Self: Memories are what you make of them.
This time of year is always a bit hard for me. At least is has been for the last six years. Friday is, or would have been, however you look at it, my brother's birthday. Zachary died almost six years ago, at the age of seventeen. That is way too young. I find myself dividing my life into segments, before Zach died(bzd), and after Zach died(azd).
In the BZD era, life was good. Birthdays were something to be celebrated, not mourned. Now every August 1st I can not help but ponder what life would be like, how things might be different, if only things were different. Alas, they are different, just not in the way that I long for. Each birthday that has passed, I watch my mom and dad quietly observe the day doing activities that they correlate with the BZD era. It is sad. Not in a pathetic, oh those poor people, sort of way, more in a no matter how hard we try to keep things the same, they have definitely changed, sort of way.
As a mother, I can not help but put myself in their shoes. I can not, will not, imagine the devastation of my child dying. It was horrid when my brother died, and that is so much different. I felt as if I would suffocate in my own grief, and mercilessly, I did not. I was forced to endure it. I don't know how any parent survives that. And they live to laugh again. That in itself is a miracle to me.
Sometimes, at night, I sit on the porch, alone, close my eyes, and try to remember. I try to remember what he smelled like, what, exactly, his voice sounded like, and how tall he was. I think really hard, and try to remember, the last time that I told him that I loved him....months...years before? There are times when my mind spins and grasps trying to remember details that are slipping away from me. I don't know, for certain, when the last time that I saw him was....was it 8 days BZD or just 2, like I think? Sometimes, I can't remember. Then, I sit there, alone, sobbing because I am losing my brother again. What if I forget? What if my memories of him, of us, of my family BZD, slowly slip away, unnoticed, bit by bit, until one day they are gone? I am terrified that one day the sound of his voice will never again echo in my ears. The scent of his cologne will be overcome by the scent of the funeral home, where I last saw him. That scent is vivid and fresh in my mind. That scent I will never forget.
I have a lot of memories of him as a child, between the ages of four and twelve, give or take a couple. Each year on his birthday, I think of the one where all of our cousins were there, he was about five, and we played outside for hours. I remember his chocolate cake, his gifted skateboard, and the fun that we had. Those were the good ole days.
Note to Self: Memories are what you make of them.
Saturday, July 26, 2003
Remembering When.....
Do you ever spend lazy summer days, watching your kids frolicking in the backyard, remembering when you would run barefoot through the yard chasing butterflies and bubbles? I did just that today. I sat outside on the deck with a tall iced tea nursing my babe, and watched my children form memories.
Bubbles poured from the spout of our leaf blower bubble machine as Kollin cranked it furiously in effort to elicit even more giggles from Kaden as he chased the bubbles across the lawn. Kaden ran one way, through a cloud of bubbles, to get to the one he had his eye on, hoping to catch it before it reached the grass and popped. Just as he stretched his chubby toddler arm out to capture it, the bubble vanished into thin air. Just as suddenly as the bubble popped, Kaden was able to fix his eyes on to his next target and begin a new chase. Kollin was dancing around Kaden, trying his very best to cover his brother in a blanket of bubbles. As I watched them play I was flooded with memories of summer days from my own childhood.
It was a hot day as we drug the hose up the ladder of our treehouse. My brother was waiting at the spicket for the signal that he could turn the water on. I, being the oldest of my mother's 'second batch', was the one doing the dragging. Heather, the baby of the batch, was doing her job by staying out of our way while we got it all set up. Finally, I got the hose draped over the edge of the slide, and yelled for Zach to turn the water on. Now, we could jet down the ten foot slide into our wading pool with unprecedented speed. I'll never forget that first trip down. I shot down that slide like an Olympic bobsled team, ending with a giant splash and an extraordinary wedgie. Everyone knows the true test of a good waterslide is the level of wedgie that results. This was a good one. We would spend hours doing this, so many in fact, that my dad dug a hole for our pool, so it wouldn't scoot away from us as we landed.
I was snapped out of my trip down memory lane by a sweet little hand caressing my chin. Keaton was grinning at me, my nipple slipping from his mouth as his smile widened. As I smiled back down at him and listened to his brothers chasing bubbles and laughing, my own memories seemed so fresh, so new. I kicked my shoes off , walked on the soft grass, chased bubbles, and remembered what it was like to be a kid again.
Note to Self: The magic of childhood has no age limits.
Do you ever spend lazy summer days, watching your kids frolicking in the backyard, remembering when you would run barefoot through the yard chasing butterflies and bubbles? I did just that today. I sat outside on the deck with a tall iced tea nursing my babe, and watched my children form memories.
Bubbles poured from the spout of our leaf blower bubble machine as Kollin cranked it furiously in effort to elicit even more giggles from Kaden as he chased the bubbles across the lawn. Kaden ran one way, through a cloud of bubbles, to get to the one he had his eye on, hoping to catch it before it reached the grass and popped. Just as he stretched his chubby toddler arm out to capture it, the bubble vanished into thin air. Just as suddenly as the bubble popped, Kaden was able to fix his eyes on to his next target and begin a new chase. Kollin was dancing around Kaden, trying his very best to cover his brother in a blanket of bubbles. As I watched them play I was flooded with memories of summer days from my own childhood.
It was a hot day as we drug the hose up the ladder of our treehouse. My brother was waiting at the spicket for the signal that he could turn the water on. I, being the oldest of my mother's 'second batch', was the one doing the dragging. Heather, the baby of the batch, was doing her job by staying out of our way while we got it all set up. Finally, I got the hose draped over the edge of the slide, and yelled for Zach to turn the water on. Now, we could jet down the ten foot slide into our wading pool with unprecedented speed. I'll never forget that first trip down. I shot down that slide like an Olympic bobsled team, ending with a giant splash and an extraordinary wedgie. Everyone knows the true test of a good waterslide is the level of wedgie that results. This was a good one. We would spend hours doing this, so many in fact, that my dad dug a hole for our pool, so it wouldn't scoot away from us as we landed.
I was snapped out of my trip down memory lane by a sweet little hand caressing my chin. Keaton was grinning at me, my nipple slipping from his mouth as his smile widened. As I smiled back down at him and listened to his brothers chasing bubbles and laughing, my own memories seemed so fresh, so new. I kicked my shoes off , walked on the soft grass, chased bubbles, and remembered what it was like to be a kid again.
Note to Self: The magic of childhood has no age limits.
Wednesday, July 16, 2003
Date Night
Matt and I had a date Saturday night. Just the two of us...yes, you heard me, no kids. Let me preface this with the obligatory gushing of how much I love my boys, love spending time with them, and did I mention that we went out ALONE.
Deb, my MIL, came over at 8:30 to mind the boys for us. The plan was that I would nurse Keaton down, order pizza for the older boys and let them stay up until they collapsed watching movies with Grammy. It all went according to plan. Made me nervous. Nothing ever goes as planned. We were out of the door by 8:50.
Now being almost nine o'clock in our early-to-bed, early-to-rise town there wasn't much of a
selection entertainment wise. Our local movie theatre got blown down in a tornado last fall, and still is not rebuilt, but we do have a drive-in(we used to have two, but one also got destroyed in the tornado). So we picked up Mexican food and set off for the drive-in. Alone....have I mentioned that yet?
Charlies Angles 2 and T3 were set to play. I could do without T3, but at last they weren't animated. We snuggle up together in DH's pickup truck, holding hands, and watching the movie. It was great. We did not have to take anyone to the restroom, refill water bottles, change diapers, or wipe anyone's nose. I can see the appeal in this whole date thing.
During intermission we both got to go to the bathroom at the same time, without taking shifts. So we strolled to the restrooms hand in hand, taking our time looking at posters featuring upcomng movies and discussing which ones we would like to see. Even a trip to the bathroom became romantic. Can you tell we're starved for some couple time?! LOL
As T3 began, I was getting tired and battling sleep. I curled up against Matt and closed my eyes. The night air was cool, with a slight breeze coming in the windows, smelling like summer can only smell. I could feel the stubble on Matt's cheeks and hear his heart beating as I rested my head against him. He smelled of soap, warm skin and freshly mowed grass. His chest was warm with my hair draping it. His lips whispered sweet songs in my ear as his warm breath tickled my neck. I fell in love all over again as I laid there trying hard no to go to sleep, knowing that when I awoke this moment, our time alone, would be gone. Alas, I lost the battle with my eyelids, and drifted off to blissful sleep in my lover's arms.
Note to Self: Simple gestures often bring about the most complex pleasues.
Matt and I had a date Saturday night. Just the two of us...yes, you heard me, no kids. Let me preface this with the obligatory gushing of how much I love my boys, love spending time with them, and did I mention that we went out ALONE.
Deb, my MIL, came over at 8:30 to mind the boys for us. The plan was that I would nurse Keaton down, order pizza for the older boys and let them stay up until they collapsed watching movies with Grammy. It all went according to plan. Made me nervous. Nothing ever goes as planned. We were out of the door by 8:50.
Now being almost nine o'clock in our early-to-bed, early-to-rise town there wasn't much of a
selection entertainment wise. Our local movie theatre got blown down in a tornado last fall, and still is not rebuilt, but we do have a drive-in(we used to have two, but one also got destroyed in the tornado). So we picked up Mexican food and set off for the drive-in. Alone....have I mentioned that yet?
Charlies Angles 2 and T3 were set to play. I could do without T3, but at last they weren't animated. We snuggle up together in DH's pickup truck, holding hands, and watching the movie. It was great. We did not have to take anyone to the restroom, refill water bottles, change diapers, or wipe anyone's nose. I can see the appeal in this whole date thing.
During intermission we both got to go to the bathroom at the same time, without taking shifts. So we strolled to the restrooms hand in hand, taking our time looking at posters featuring upcomng movies and discussing which ones we would like to see. Even a trip to the bathroom became romantic. Can you tell we're starved for some couple time?! LOL
As T3 began, I was getting tired and battling sleep. I curled up against Matt and closed my eyes. The night air was cool, with a slight breeze coming in the windows, smelling like summer can only smell. I could feel the stubble on Matt's cheeks and hear his heart beating as I rested my head against him. He smelled of soap, warm skin and freshly mowed grass. His chest was warm with my hair draping it. His lips whispered sweet songs in my ear as his warm breath tickled my neck. I fell in love all over again as I laid there trying hard no to go to sleep, knowing that when I awoke this moment, our time alone, would be gone. Alas, I lost the battle with my eyelids, and drifted off to blissful sleep in my lover's arms.
Note to Self: Simple gestures often bring about the most complex pleasues.
Saturday, July 12, 2003
Testing, 1, 2, 3 testing
So can you see me? I think I got it figured out. We'll see I suppose. Lots of topics swirling through my head to blog about, but they will have to wait for another day. I have date tonight. Sans kids. Bliss, pure bliss I tell you. Before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, fretting over me leaving my exclusively nursed 9 month old for an evening, he will be asleep. He sleeps VERY reliably 10-12 hours a night, and has done so for months. Alas, if he does awaken, my MIL will call my cell and I will be home in less than 10 minutes. I can so live with this scenario. :)
Note to Self: Time spent nurturing one's self is never time wasted.
So can you see me? I think I got it figured out. We'll see I suppose. Lots of topics swirling through my head to blog about, but they will have to wait for another day. I have date tonight. Sans kids. Bliss, pure bliss I tell you. Before anyone gets their panties in a bunch, fretting over me leaving my exclusively nursed 9 month old for an evening, he will be asleep. He sleeps VERY reliably 10-12 hours a night, and has done so for months. Alas, if he does awaken, my MIL will call my cell and I will be home in less than 10 minutes. I can so live with this scenario. :)
Note to Self: Time spent nurturing one's self is never time wasted.