Life has been going good lately. I've been ecstatic in my home life, my soon-to-be Hubby and I set a date. Our daughter turned 5. Things have been great! I've even been getting along wih my mom, which is not something that happens very often... Not that I don't love her, or fit with her exactly. We just don't always see eye to eye. Lately though, even she and I have been getting along. I've just been happy and enjoying the majority of my life. The nifty terrors are still bothering me, but I'm going in to the cardiologists office ne t week for the results of my most recent echo cardiogram, and I'm going to se what my sleep options are, so I feel like even that problem will be resolving itself soon.
Lately though, it seems like no matter what I do at work, there is angst and unrest. I feel like part of it is directed at me, and I'm so uncomfortable with it that I wish there would be a change in the atmosphre. Something needs to give, or my coworkers are going to explode. I get some of the excess anger directed towards me, and I del like it's be aide people say things behind other peoples backs. No one treats their coworkers the way they would want to be treated. It drives me crazy, but in this economy, it seems impssible to be able to find a better paying job with he same type of benefits that I get to enjoy now. I like having a set schedule, pair days off, paid holidays, and paid vacation days.. I just wish thy hey came along with coworkers who cared about each other. I'm. Pretty sure if I got into a car accident tomorrow and couldn't work for a month, not even a single coworker would give more than a passing thought on my dirrection. And yet, I still remember wveryones birthday, I still care if someone is sick, or is having a tough time at home. I don't remember people caring so little at any other job I've ever had. Am I so wrong to be upset about this? I mean, I understand that I am there for a pay check, and not to make friends, but shouldn't I be able to do both?!?
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Sorry that it's been so long.
Aside from the fact that I have just been ridiculously busy, I have also been having what I can only describe as "night terrors".
Night Terrors. You know, those things that little kids have where they wake up and run screaming into their parents bed. I've been forced to deal with the most pathetic question of my adult life. "What do you do when you ARE the parent?"
Well, let me tell you: you cry yourself back to sleep. Or just decide that you never want to sleep again. The later is what I've been attempting to accomplish. So far, it's not really working. I've been averaging about 5-6 hours a night, in 2-3 hour increments. Unfortunately, I also happen to turn into a crazyer than usual person. I find myself being completely off the walls lately. So much so that my coworkers had accused me of both having ADD and OCD. Even now, I am really wanting a nap.
The other night though, was the WORST! I woke up, feeling so terrified that a "ghost" (my bedside lamp that was dimly lit from the light in the other room) was trying to kill me. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, I couldn't even cry. Less than 2 minutes later, I realized it was just a lamp, and I was being ridiculous. About 20 seconds after that, I could move again. About 20 minutes after that, my heart rate finally went down to a slow enough pace that I could actually drift back to sleep again (if I had actually wanted to, which I did not).
I looked it up on Web MD under Sleep Disorders.. I was actually looking for something to help explain my night terrors, but stumbled upon this first...
"Have you ever felt like you were awake but unable to move? You might have even felt afraid but could not call for help? This condition is called sleep paralysis. Sleep paralysis may leave you feeling frightened, especially if you also see or hear things that aren't really there. Sleep paralysis may happen only once, or you may have it frequently -- even several times a night.
The good news: sleep paralysis is not considered a dangerous health problem. Read on to find out more about sleep paralysis, its possible causes, and its treatment."
http://www.webmd.com/sleep-disorders/guide/sleep-paralysis ((If you want to know more.))
Someday, I WILL feel like I'm an actual "grown up" who can help herself feel better when she has a crazy nightmare.... Someday..
Night Terrors. You know, those things that little kids have where they wake up and run screaming into their parents bed. I've been forced to deal with the most pathetic question of my adult life. "What do you do when you ARE the parent?"
Well, let me tell you: you cry yourself back to sleep. Or just decide that you never want to sleep again. The later is what I've been attempting to accomplish. So far, it's not really working. I've been averaging about 5-6 hours a night, in 2-3 hour increments. Unfortunately, I also happen to turn into a craz
The other night though, was the WORST! I woke up, feeling so terrified that a "ghost" (my bedside lamp that was dimly lit from the light in the other room) was trying to kill me. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, I couldn't even cry. Less than 2 minutes later, I realized it was just a lamp, and I was being ridiculous. About 20 seconds after that, I could move again. About 20 minutes after that, my heart rate finally went down to a slow enough pace that I could actually drift back to sleep again (if I had actually wanted to, which I did not).
I looked it up on Web MD under Sleep Disorders.. I was actually looking for something to help explain my night terrors, but stumbled upon this first...
Sleep Paralysis
The good news: sleep paralysis is not considered a dangerous health problem. Read on to find out more about sleep paralysis, its possible causes, and its treatment."
http://www.webmd.com/sleep-disorders/guide/sleep-paralysis ((If you want to know more.))
Someday, I WILL feel like I'm an actual "grown up" who can help herself feel better when she has a crazy nightmare.... Someday..
Monday, March 14, 2011
My Best Friend
When I was younger, I used to keep written journals. I’m not sure why, but it made me feel better to write things down, no matter how little they seemed to be. I wrote down the stories about my first real boyfriend, and most of the seemingly important aspects of our relationship. Everything from the day I lost my virginity to the day he cooked me spaghetti dinner. I wrote it all out when I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, and even the day I saw my fiancé for the first time while I was pregnant, even though he only nodded in my general direction.
The day I met my best friend, whom I affectionately nick named Mikky, I wrote this (in obnoxious green pen):
Silly as it may seem, that winter we grew to be inseparable. We spent as much time hanging out together as we could. I have countless silly stories written down about things from “Easter egg hair”, to “peanut butter cookies”, to “bubble bath swimming pools”. She was there for me when my brother died, even though my boyfriend at the time left me because “he couldn’t handle seeing me so sad”.
It seems like every time I’ve been on the edge of a nervous breakdown, she has been the one I could always turn to. She’s helped me pick up the pieces so many times that I cant even begin to count just how grateful I am to have her in my life. How truly lucky I feel every time I see a photograph of us, or find random little notes we’ve passed. We met when I was 16. It’s been 11 years this September, and I feel like it’s been my whole life.
This is for you Mikky. For the best friend I could ever have, the person who never sugar coats things for me, the person who isn’t afraid to tell me the truth. The girl I’ve adored since we first met. Regardless of how many days/weeks/months it’s been since our last conversation, every time we get together, it’s like we never really spent time apart. Even though our lives go in separate directions, they always seem to meet back up again. You are an amazing person.
The day I met my best friend, whom I affectionately nick named Mikky, I wrote this (in obnoxious green pen):
I met this girl Mikky today. She has crazy dyed hair. She seems kind of awesome. I think we’re going to be best friends.
Silly as it may seem, that winter we grew to be inseparable. We spent as much time hanging out together as we could. I have countless silly stories written down about things from “Easter egg hair”, to “peanut butter cookies”, to “bubble bath swimming pools”. She was there for me when my brother died, even though my boyfriend at the time left me because “he couldn’t handle seeing me so sad”.
It seems like every time I’ve been on the edge of a nervous breakdown, she has been the one I could always turn to. She’s helped me pick up the pieces so many times that I cant even begin to count just how grateful I am to have her in my life. How truly lucky I feel every time I see a photograph of us, or find random little notes we’ve passed. We met when I was 16. It’s been 11 years this September, and I feel like it’s been my whole life.
This is for you Mikky. For the best friend I could ever have, the person who never sugar coats things for me, the person who isn’t afraid to tell me the truth. The girl I’ve adored since we first met. Regardless of how many days/weeks/months it’s been since our last conversation, every time we get together, it’s like we never really spent time apart. Even though our lives go in separate directions, they always seem to meet back up again. You are an amazing person.
thank you for being my friend.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Take care of your heart!!!
I often look at things that I have done in the past. More specifically, I look at things I have lived through. In my mere 26 years of life, I have lived through 2 heart surgeries, getting rabies shots, slowly becoming allergic to everything I used to not be allergic to, piercing my finger with a scalpel, “falling off a roof”, too many broken hearts to count, and being one of the “weird” people that everyone knew by name but couldn’t be accepted into any particular crowd.
I have learned to accept some things, like the fact that I will never be “normal”, finding ways to get around my allergies, and remembering that injured mend (even metaphoric broken hearts heal. When my boss told my supervisor that I “march to the beat of my own drum”, I actually felt a little pride in the fact that I’m not like everybody else, and even though I will be remembered as being odd, I will at least be remembered. The people that don’t remember me from high school aren’t worth my time, and I really don’t need to fret over it, because the people I really enjoyed being in high school with, won’t let me forget that I am cared about. (That’s the important part of having friends anyways, right?)
As for the heart surgeries, my first one I was only 4 months old. They told my parents not to expect me to live past the age of 2. When I was 2, they told my mom that I would be on heart medication for the rest of my life. When I was 5, they told my mom I was just fine, and I didn’t need to be seen in their office again. When I was 16, they told me that the chest pains I had been getting since I was 12, was actually my heart beating up over 300 beats per minute, and I would need surgery. After surgery, they recommended 2 check ups a year. When I got pregnant, they put me in a high rick pregnancy clinic, and I had a healthy baby girl with zero negative impact on my heart. Unfortunately, I am back on heart medication, that I will have to take for the rest of my life, but I feel like a little pill a day is a small price to pay for a healthy heart.
I have already ordered enough red dress pins for every guest at my wedding. I try very hard to educate the people around me and all the women in my life the importance of heart health. Someone told me on “Go Red for Women” day, that if I asked them to wear pink for breast cancer they would, but that heart health just wasn’t as important. I vented on facebook about the comment, and got back the best response ever over it: “Unless they’re into necrophilia, once the heart goes, so do the breasts.” I feel like, in this day and age, with all our positive research on breast cancer, most women can actually survive being diagnosed with it. Heart disease is still the number one killer of women. I feel like at this point, it is a little more important to emphasize it! Let the women in your lives know you care, remind them to stay aware of their heart health! After all, you’ve only got the one heart.
I have learned to accept some things, like the fact that I will never be “normal”, finding ways to get around my allergies, and remembering that injured mend (even metaphoric broken hearts heal. When my boss told my supervisor that I “march to the beat of my own drum”, I actually felt a little pride in the fact that I’m not like everybody else, and even though I will be remembered as being odd, I will at least be remembered. The people that don’t remember me from high school aren’t worth my time, and I really don’t need to fret over it, because the people I really enjoyed being in high school with, won’t let me forget that I am cared about. (That’s the important part of having friends anyways, right?)
As for the heart surgeries, my first one I was only 4 months old. They told my parents not to expect me to live past the age of 2. When I was 2, they told my mom that I would be on heart medication for the rest of my life. When I was 5, they told my mom I was just fine, and I didn’t need to be seen in their office again. When I was 16, they told me that the chest pains I had been getting since I was 12, was actually my heart beating up over 300 beats per minute, and I would need surgery. After surgery, they recommended 2 check ups a year. When I got pregnant, they put me in a high rick pregnancy clinic, and I had a healthy baby girl with zero negative impact on my heart. Unfortunately, I am back on heart medication, that I will have to take for the rest of my life, but I feel like a little pill a day is a small price to pay for a healthy heart.
I have already ordered enough red dress pins for every guest at my wedding. I try very hard to educate the people around me and all the women in my life the importance of heart health. Someone told me on “Go Red for Women” day, that if I asked them to wear pink for breast cancer they would, but that heart health just wasn’t as important. I vented on facebook about the comment, and got back the best response ever over it: “Unless they’re into necrophilia, once the heart goes, so do the breasts.” I feel like, in this day and age, with all our positive research on breast cancer, most women can actually survive being diagnosed with it. Heart disease is still the number one killer of women. I feel like at this point, it is a little more important to emphasize it! Let the women in your lives know you care, remind them to stay aware of their heart health! After all, you’ve only got the one heart.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Sincerity.
Dictionary.com defines sincerity as “freedom from deceit, hypocrisy, or duplicity”. So, when I say that I am sincerely happy for someone else, I mean it. Sometimes people say things like “aren’t you jealous”, or “they’re your ex, why are you happy for them”? I always fall back on my original statement. I am genuinely and sincerely happy for them.
I recently facebook friended one of my ex’s. He and I were together for about 5 years many, many, MANY years ago. We were kids, things didn’t work out. We ended up being friends after though, he was one of the first people I told when I found out I was pregnant, and I was one of the last people he saw before he went too Iraq for the first time.
These days, I am a happily engaged lady, and he has finally found someone that put a little sparkle back in his eye. When I say I am happy for him, I mean it. With all my heart, with the possible capacity that my heart can handle. I am happy to see him in a relationship where he can flourish and grow. I am excited about their future together for them.
I’ve had friends that have gone on to more schooling and graduated. One of my closest friends when I was pregnant was a girl named Meg. She and I were really close. Things happened, and for some reason it ends up being a little difficult to maintain friendships with non-parent friends when you become a parent. She is passing through school with grace and she is pursuing her goals to be a nurse. She’s doing amazing at it. She puts up happy statuses on facebook, and posts happy pictures. Even though we aren’t as close as we once were, I am still very happy that her life is going so well.
Some people might not know this, but, I almost gave Jillie up for adoption. I made a plan and everything. Things didn’t work out that way (obviously), and Jillie is still mine <3. However, I always thought of the couple and hoped fervently that they would get to experience the utter joy of being a parent. When the wife contacted me to tell me about her beautiful little boy, and to tell me that she and her husband were happy to see that everything worked out for me, I cried. Completely happy tears, real tears. I was so happy to hear that things clicked into place for them. I know that sometimes, in this world of “dog eat dog”, it is a little unorthodox to be happy for someone else’s happiness. However, I feel like it’s a necessary part of life. It keeps you human, and lets to be connected to the people around you. I enjoy being genuinely happy for the people I love. It makes me happy to know that they are enjoying their lives. Maybe someday we can all be a little like that…
I recently facebook friended one of my ex’s. He and I were together for about 5 years many, many, MANY years ago. We were kids, things didn’t work out. We ended up being friends after though, he was one of the first people I told when I found out I was pregnant, and I was one of the last people he saw before he went too Iraq for the first time.
These days, I am a happily engaged lady, and he has finally found someone that put a little sparkle back in his eye. When I say I am happy for him, I mean it. With all my heart, with the possible capacity that my heart can handle. I am happy to see him in a relationship where he can flourish and grow. I am excited about their future together for them.
I’ve had friends that have gone on to more schooling and graduated. One of my closest friends when I was pregnant was a girl named Meg. She and I were really close. Things happened, and for some reason it ends up being a little difficult to maintain friendships with non-parent friends when you become a parent. She is passing through school with grace and she is pursuing her goals to be a nurse. She’s doing amazing at it. She puts up happy statuses on facebook, and posts happy pictures. Even though we aren’t as close as we once were, I am still very happy that her life is going so well.
Some people might not know this, but, I almost gave Jillie up for adoption. I made a plan and everything. Things didn’t work out that way (obviously), and Jillie is still mine <3. However, I always thought of the couple and hoped fervently that they would get to experience the utter joy of being a parent. When the wife contacted me to tell me about her beautiful little boy, and to tell me that she and her husband were happy to see that everything worked out for me, I cried. Completely happy tears, real tears. I was so happy to hear that things clicked into place for them. I know that sometimes, in this world of “dog eat dog”, it is a little unorthodox to be happy for someone else’s happiness. However, I feel like it’s a necessary part of life. It keeps you human, and lets to be connected to the people around you. I enjoy being genuinely happy for the people I love. It makes me happy to know that they are enjoying their lives. Maybe someday we can all be a little like that…
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Something to get excited about...
Life moves on, even when you don’t think it does. In June 2008, the day before my birthday, Jon officially proposed to me. We have been planning and saving ever since. Last summer, we finally came up with a date: August 18, 2012. We have picked so many dates, and backed out of them after I get really excited about them.
This time, was a little different. I didn’t even get excited. Well, the weekend after my Grammy Meg died, one of my friends from work told me I needed to get out of my house and do something. So we went to the Bridal Expo a couple towns over. I saw a lot of awesome things, and got a lot of great ideas.
I also, got a gift card for David’s Bridal, and made an appointment to check out some dresses. My Aunt Sue insisted on taking me to my appointment. I went there, feeling “blah” about our wedding. I was a little apprehensive, and figured I wouldn’t find anything anyways, so it would be a wasted trip. Also, Jon is still a little nervous about actually setting a date. So I’m still trying to not get my hopes up.
The trip turned out wonderful. We had a great consultant named Jasmine. She was super nice, and very helpful. I tried on a total of 10 dresses, and fell in love with the second dress. IN LOVE! Who knew?! We put a down payment on it, as well as a down payment on a matching dress for Jillie.
I am so excited, I wanted to cry! Happy tears, of course. I can’t wait to marry Jon now. I can’t wait to walk down the isle and see Jon standing at the end of it, waiting to marry me, waiting to start the rest of our lives together. I tear up a little just thinking about it. I am so excited to start this new chapter. <3
This time, was a little different. I didn’t even get excited. Well, the weekend after my Grammy Meg died, one of my friends from work told me I needed to get out of my house and do something. So we went to the Bridal Expo a couple towns over. I saw a lot of awesome things, and got a lot of great ideas.
I also, got a gift card for David’s Bridal, and made an appointment to check out some dresses. My Aunt Sue insisted on taking me to my appointment. I went there, feeling “blah” about our wedding. I was a little apprehensive, and figured I wouldn’t find anything anyways, so it would be a wasted trip. Also, Jon is still a little nervous about actually setting a date. So I’m still trying to not get my hopes up.
The trip turned out wonderful. We had a great consultant named Jasmine. She was super nice, and very helpful. I tried on a total of 10 dresses, and fell in love with the second dress. IN LOVE! Who knew?! We put a down payment on it, as well as a down payment on a matching dress for Jillie.
I am so excited, I wanted to cry! Happy tears, of course. I can’t wait to marry Jon now. I can’t wait to walk down the isle and see Jon standing at the end of it, waiting to marry me, waiting to start the rest of our lives together. I tear up a little just thinking about it. I am so excited to start this new chapter. <3
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Jillian Mackenzie.
September 18, 2005 I had the most life altering words spoken to me. “It’s got two lines. That means you’re pregnant.”
I cried. I was too young to have babies. I still had so much to do. I hadn’t traveled the world yet. I never went to college. I was still just a cashier. How was this possible?!
The last was a silly question. I knew how it had happened. Just as I had known I was pregnant as soon as it was over. It was a moment of clarity among muddled and murky thought. August 30, 2005. Strange that I should remember such dates. They will stay with me forever though.
Just like May 2, 2006. The day I was supposed to go in for an induction, she decided to finally show up. Only 6hours and 26mins before my appointment. 2:34am and after intense labor pains, starting the day before around 4am, and after an epidural, and 45 minutes of pushing, she arrived.
My world was forever altered. Here was this tiny (6lbs 2oz), squirming baby girl. She was mine. I named her Jillian Mackenzie because that was the name Jen and Greg picked out. I had originally picked either Emily Diane or Amaya Gen.
The moment I saw her getting cleaned and checked out, trying to “see” me, attempting to crane her head towards my voice, I knew I had never loved someone so deeply. I never knew my heart had that capacity! I don’t think you can truly understand how much a parent loves their child(ren) until you become a parent.
Suddenly you put yourself on the back burner, and regardless of your wants or needs, there is this tiny being that is more important. You will never rest peacefully, because part of you will be constantly worrying over everything they are doing. Attempting to ensure their safety and happiness above all else.
When Jillie started calling me “Mummum” at 5 months, I realized this: I am someone’s Mommy. That. Is. Huge.
I cried. I was too young to have babies. I still had so much to do. I hadn’t traveled the world yet. I never went to college. I was still just a cashier. How was this possible?!
The last was a silly question. I knew how it had happened. Just as I had known I was pregnant as soon as it was over. It was a moment of clarity among muddled and murky thought. August 30, 2005. Strange that I should remember such dates. They will stay with me forever though.
Just like May 2, 2006. The day I was supposed to go in for an induction, she decided to finally show up. Only 6hours and 26mins before my appointment. 2:34am and after intense labor pains, starting the day before around 4am, and after an epidural, and 45 minutes of pushing, she arrived.
My world was forever altered. Here was this tiny (6lbs 2oz), squirming baby girl. She was mine. I named her Jillian Mackenzie because that was the name Jen and Greg picked out. I had originally picked either Emily Diane or Amaya Gen.
The moment I saw her getting cleaned and checked out, trying to “see” me, attempting to crane her head towards my voice, I knew I had never loved someone so deeply. I never knew my heart had that capacity! I don’t think you can truly understand how much a parent loves their child(ren) until you become a parent.
Suddenly you put yourself on the back burner, and regardless of your wants or needs, there is this tiny being that is more important. You will never rest peacefully, because part of you will be constantly worrying over everything they are doing. Attempting to ensure their safety and happiness above all else.
When Jillie started calling me “Mummum” at 5 months, I realized this: I am someone’s Mommy. That. Is. Huge.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
My great disdain of e-books.
I’m going to school online at the Art Institute of Pittsburgh. I enjoy my accelerated classes, because you start the class and next thing you know, it’s all over. However, now, they offer ‘e-books’. Meaning, my required reading is a book that I have to sit at my desk top computer to read. At least when I had regular paper books I could wander around with it. Read it while I was waiting at my doctor’s office, or on lunch break at work. Now though, I can’t do that. So when I finally get home from doing whatever I had to leave the house to do, I still have to sit and read on the computer for a couple of hours before even getting to do my homework.
You would think that because people take online classes to make their lives easier and be able to do their work whenever/wherever, it would make sense to lat the students do their work wherever they felt comfortable. I used to do my homework reading while I was sitting in the bathroom monitoring Jillie’s bath time, or on the couch while she played with Barbie’s, or at the table while waiting for dinner to cook, or at lunch at work, you get the idea. Now, I feel like I am chained to my computer. You can imagine my frustration and aggravation.
((Image from: http://toostep.com/insight/very-dangerous---ways-your-job-can-reduce-your-life-span ))
You would think that because people take online classes to make their lives easier and be able to do their work whenever/wherever, it would make sense to lat the students do their work wherever they felt comfortable. I used to do my homework reading while I was sitting in the bathroom monitoring Jillie’s bath time, or on the couch while she played with Barbie’s, or at the table while waiting for dinner to cook, or at lunch at work, you get the idea. Now, I feel like I am chained to my computer. You can imagine my frustration and aggravation.
((Image from: http://toostep.com/insight/very-dangerous---ways-your-job-can-reduce-your-life-span ))
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Lesson from a 4 year old.
As a parent, you know that there will be moments that will be tough on you. There will be moments that will be tough on your child. Recently, I experienced one of these moments. Now, usually, as Mommy, I have to make sure I am a strong person for my little girl. Always remembering to stand up and brush myself off. Duct taping all the pieces together whenever necessary.
December 30, 2010, I got a call from my Aunt Sue. My paternal grandmother, Grammy Meg, who had been very sick from lung cancer, was very close to dying. Basically, if I wanted to say good bye to her, I had to get to the nursing home, STAT! After almost 4 agonizing days of watching my Grammy slowly slip away, she was finally at peace at 4:05pm on January 2, 1011. I was in the room with her, as was my step-mother Judy.
I cried. I didn’t all out, can’t breathe, snot running down my face, uncontrollable sobbing, cry. I did cry though. Then, I stayed out of the room. I even asked my dad to go back in and grab my purse and coat. My sister Julie and my brother in law Eric didn’t want to go home, and even though I wanted to be alone and mourn my Grammy, I didn’t want to make them go home when they really didn’t want to, so I invited them over. I went to bed way later than I should have, and never really got to “cry it out”. The next few days seemed to go in a similar direction.
Three days later was the wake. Jon accompanied me to Mercadante Funeral Home. I walked in, but didn’t go to see my Grammy resting in her coffin. I didn’t want to go up there in front of everyone. After everyone came through and gave us their condolences, my family left and I went up to say good bye to a woman who meant so much to me. I brought Julie home with me. Eric and Jon had left a little early and met us at my house. They left pretty late, and I had to go to bed as soon as they did because we had to get up early for the funeral.
The next morning, I packed Jillie in my car and drove back to Mercadante to wait in line for the funeral procession. For those of you reading this who have never done this, when you get back to the funeral, the casket is usually still open (permitted it was an open casket wake), and people may say any final good-byes. I tried to keep Jillie in the hallway, since I wasn’t sure about letting my little 4 year old see a dead body. She insisted that she go in, however. She wanted to say goodbye to her Great Grammy Meg. After a little while of unsuccessfully trying to persuade her otherwise, we went up to the casket.
Jillie looked in at her great grandmother, told her she would miss her, and said good bye. We went over to a chair and she snuggled on my lap for a few minutes until Jon got there. She walked up with my Aunt Sue and put a flower in the casket with Grammy Meg. She didn’t cry and kept herself together. I almost thought that maybe she didn’t quite understand what was going on.
When we got in the car to start the procession, Jillie and I had a conversation that I now feel compelled to share with you. Please keep in mind that Jillie and I had just been to visit my Grammy on Christmas Day.
Jillie: Uhm. Mommy? I have a question.
Me: Ok Sweetie, what’s your question?
Jillie: When Grammy Meg went to Heaven, did Jesus make her all better? Because Grammy didn’t look sick anymore…..
Me: Well Peanut, you could say that. Yeah. When you die and go to Heaven, it’s a very nice place where people aren’t sick or in pain.
I didn’t say our conversation was long. It was very profound though. I was thinking that she really didn’t get it because she didn’t seem to be very upset. In her own little way though, she made me feel better instead. I still haven’t “cried it out”. At this point though, I don’t think I will “cry it out”. I think deep down inside, I feel too happy to know that she is no longer suffering and in pain to be sad. It’s funny how it took my little Peanut to remind me of what I’ve believed my whole life. Death is not the end; it is the beginning of a new life in a better place. It is something I have to believe, considering all the people I have lost in my life.
I will leave this little advice behind though: “Life is short, make sure the people you love know it, because you never know when you won’t be able to tell them anymore.”
December 30, 2010, I got a call from my Aunt Sue. My paternal grandmother, Grammy Meg, who had been very sick from lung cancer, was very close to dying. Basically, if I wanted to say good bye to her, I had to get to the nursing home, STAT! After almost 4 agonizing days of watching my Grammy slowly slip away, she was finally at peace at 4:05pm on January 2, 1011. I was in the room with her, as was my step-mother Judy.
I cried. I didn’t all out, can’t breathe, snot running down my face, uncontrollable sobbing, cry. I did cry though. Then, I stayed out of the room. I even asked my dad to go back in and grab my purse and coat. My sister Julie and my brother in law Eric didn’t want to go home, and even though I wanted to be alone and mourn my Grammy, I didn’t want to make them go home when they really didn’t want to, so I invited them over. I went to bed way later than I should have, and never really got to “cry it out”. The next few days seemed to go in a similar direction.
Three days later was the wake. Jon accompanied me to Mercadante Funeral Home. I walked in, but didn’t go to see my Grammy resting in her coffin. I didn’t want to go up there in front of everyone. After everyone came through and gave us their condolences, my family left and I went up to say good bye to a woman who meant so much to me. I brought Julie home with me. Eric and Jon had left a little early and met us at my house. They left pretty late, and I had to go to bed as soon as they did because we had to get up early for the funeral.
The next morning, I packed Jillie in my car and drove back to Mercadante to wait in line for the funeral procession. For those of you reading this who have never done this, when you get back to the funeral, the casket is usually still open (permitted it was an open casket wake), and people may say any final good-byes. I tried to keep Jillie in the hallway, since I wasn’t sure about letting my little 4 year old see a dead body. She insisted that she go in, however. She wanted to say goodbye to her Great Grammy Meg. After a little while of unsuccessfully trying to persuade her otherwise, we went up to the casket.
Jillie looked in at her great grandmother, told her she would miss her, and said good bye. We went over to a chair and she snuggled on my lap for a few minutes until Jon got there. She walked up with my Aunt Sue and put a flower in the casket with Grammy Meg. She didn’t cry and kept herself together. I almost thought that maybe she didn’t quite understand what was going on.
When we got in the car to start the procession, Jillie and I had a conversation that I now feel compelled to share with you. Please keep in mind that Jillie and I had just been to visit my Grammy on Christmas Day.
Jillie: Uhm. Mommy? I have a question.
Me: Ok Sweetie, what’s your question?
Jillie: When Grammy Meg went to Heaven, did Jesus make her all better? Because Grammy didn’t look sick anymore…..
Me: Well Peanut, you could say that. Yeah. When you die and go to Heaven, it’s a very nice place where people aren’t sick or in pain.
I didn’t say our conversation was long. It was very profound though. I was thinking that she really didn’t get it because she didn’t seem to be very upset. In her own little way though, she made me feel better instead. I still haven’t “cried it out”. At this point though, I don’t think I will “cry it out”. I think deep down inside, I feel too happy to know that she is no longer suffering and in pain to be sad. It’s funny how it took my little Peanut to remind me of what I’ve believed my whole life. Death is not the end; it is the beginning of a new life in a better place. It is something I have to believe, considering all the people I have lost in my life.
I will leave this little advice behind though: “Life is short, make sure the people you love know it, because you never know when you won’t be able to tell them anymore.”
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