Monthly Archives: December 2012

Sleeping Single?

No way out!

No way out!

Not only the last day of the year, but the LAST Monday of the month, as well.  Not only does this mean New Year’s Resolutions to make to be broken no later than January 2,  but it is also time to reflect on what has been a slice of perfection, for even a split second, in the last month for Perfect Moment Monday with Lori at Write Mind, Open Heart.

Not always easy, especially this month, which has held many challenges.  As I have said before, I believe I have done worn out my boot straps from pulling myself up.  Soooooooo, guess I’ll just have to buy some new ones,  as my Father’s voice continues to echo in my head, “I didn’t raise a whiner, quitter, or complainer.”  Thus my Boot Straps are on over night delivery and expect to be back on my feet……….or boots in the next 24 hours.

But while I’ve been “off of my feet” I got to thinking about what could be considered “my perfect moment” this month.  This brought me to thinking about Brotherly Love.  It seems to be an elusive, intangible bond…………..largely based on the fact that if you have Brotherly Love, you have all rights to trade their toys, eat their favorite cereal, steal their favorite book, blame them for anything missing or broken and  beat the crap out of them and you are still assured you have someone to play video games with the rest of the day.  I guess that’s what makes Brothers “lucky.”  

However, this is not something  I think that Johnny, The Big and The Little Brother are giving much thought.  I do think they enjoy having a “punching bag” though.  It is why I enjoy having a basement door.

Anywhoooooo, as I was saying……………..Brotherly Love, Perfect Moments……………not easy to combine.  But alas, I have………

Our home provides enough space that each Brother could have his own room.  However, it does not work that way.  Birth order having its privileges, The Big Brother does have his own room.  Johnny and The Little Brother, they share.  Why? Weellll, it must be character building, right?

Truth of the matter is, The Brothers are about the only friends Johnny really has.  A nasty side effect of Autism.  It makes me really sad at times but does not seem to rattle Johnny too much.  He is a solo operator.  Another reason it has always been so important for us that The Brothers learn to stick it out and stick together.

Mostly Johnny and The Little Brother get along just fine in their room together.  A little bit like the odd couple but mostly okay.  Except lately.  Lately, there has been some grumbling.  Johnny is a very early riser and not always quiet about it.  Causing The Little Brother to be up as well.  Causing a lot of “arguing” early in the morning.  On the other hand when Johnny is ready to go to sleep, do NOT get in his way.

Soooo, I started to think, maybe it’s time.  Maybe they need their “own space”.  I started to devise a plan for the “break-up” to happen over Christmas break.  Shared my plan with The Captain.  He was not “on board.”  His reasoning, “Johnny spends enough time alone, The Little Brother is his best buddy, I know he’s  9, but Little Brother is going to take one for the team.”

Hmmmm………….guess The Captain needs more convincing.  I was mulling all this over until one night……………………

Bedtime………………….and NOT a peaceful one.  Johnny and The Little Brother are at it.  Pointing fingers and I quote, “You’re annoying, NO YOU’RE annoying…….(get the picture)

Enter Mommy……………KNOCK IT OFF!!!  Johnny, “Mom, he’s annoying make him stop doing those noises.”  Now……..let me just say this never fails to crack me up when Johnny points the finger because he has just a few quirky ways.  Mommy had had it, NOT listening to anymore so I throw up my hands and BELLOW, “That’s it!!!  Johnny, get your things, you can sleep in your own room.  This news stops him in his tracks.  “WHAT?”

Johnny gathers up all things Batman and prepares to move.  “Where to?”  I tell him to Cousin Amber’s Old room.  So, he peaks out the door at the quiet, still room across the hall.  Then he turns and looks at his room.  All is quiet as he contemplates life on “his own.”  Next he looks at me, I continue to stare.  Finally, he speaks…………..”Mom, Can’t you just tell LITTLE BROTHER to stop being ANNOYING.”

Up pipes Little Brother……….”OH YEAH!, YOU’RE ANNOYING!”  In I chime………………Do YOU want to move to your own room?  A look of panic comes across his little face……………………No.

So in true Mommy style I state, with authority, “BOTH OF YOU, STOP BEING ANNOYING AND GO TO SLEEP.”

I turn and exit the room.   As I leave I feel a ping of joy and warm fuzzies………………………..Brotherly Love, True Brotherly Love……………maybe for more than a “moment.”

The Club

I belong to a club.  One that I did not… nor would ever…have asked to join.  In fact, none of the members want to belong.  But no one asks.  You become aware of your membership when you begin to “wake” from the gut wrenching, horrible nightmare of “losing” your child.

We’re an “odd” club.  We are “thrown” together.  We DO NOT want to be here and by all means…………..we DO NOT  want new members.  “Misery loves company” does not apply.  This type of misery I would not wish on any one.  The dues come at too great of a price.  The price………..your  Child’s Life.

New members joined us on Friday December 14, 2012, in Newtown, CT.  We did not want them and they do not have any desire to “get to know” us,  or our “way of life.”

Each member has a very personal story and has experienced their own “personal” hell.  Many of us can relate to each other and share a similar hell.  Others have nothing in common.  For some, the only thing in common is that we have buried our “Baby”.   Be it their “Baby” died in the womb, never drew their first breath,  spent only a finite amount of time on this earth, battled a horrible disease, battled drugs or took their own life.  All feel like Hell.  

I have been a member of this “club” for two years.     Each story I hear, I think, “what a living hell.”  All unimaginable to those “not in the club.”

The parents and families of these Precious “Babies” who lost their lives at SandyHook are in a Hell that, not even “club” members can fathom.  The Hell that must exist for your Precious Child to have their life taken at the violent, brutal hands of another.  To know that their child experienced unspeakable terror, fear and pain in their last moments and there was nothing they could do to protect them.

This is what I keep thinking since this horrific event.  The horror of their last moments,  how the families will ever “go on.”  My Baby Girl, although considered “medically fragile” died suddenly.  The trauma of her sudden death and surrounding circumstances haunts me,  but if there is any comfort she was in “loving” hands.  There is no comfort that can come from your child’s life being taken with unspeakable violence and horror.

Today, I heard about two or three more “kids” being laid to rest  in Newtown, CT.  My initial thought, those “kids” are someone’s baby.  Don’t they deserve more than that.  What about their name?  How about, if you don’t know their name, LOOK IT UP.  With the same effort and energy being used to sensationalize this horrific loss.   My friend Kathy at Bereaved and Blessed writes about this,  challenging each of us to “remember a name”.  To remember their name, honors their life.

Their names, their sweet faces.  They were someone’s Precious Girl or Little Guy.  When I hear the debates surrounding gun control and mental health (both appropriate) I cannot engage.  My heart and mind keep going to those families who are beyond suffering.

I just think of the rawness and complete numb state your mind and body shift to at the death of your baby.  This raw grief defies explanation.  The constant replays of your last hug, the last kiss.  The unimaginable “what-if” and “if-only’s” that are on a constant reel to reel in their head.

Trying to endure a new minute, a new hour, a new day knowing you will never……. in this life…………hear your child’s voice, see their sweet face or snuggle their baby again.  The panic I know they will feel when this hits.  That feeling of “I must see my baby, I cannot go another moment without my baby.  Yet, you must………you have to………….. you do.

I wish I had no idea what it is like to bury my child.  But I do.  So I am scared.  Scared for the parents and families left behind.  Scared for their grief and pain.  Scared for their sleepless nights.  Scared for their unstoppable, body wrenching tears that will flow.  Scared for the nightmares that will inevitably haunt them.  Scared for the strength they don’t know they have……… or if they have……. just to get out of bed.

Dear Newtown Ct, families,  I am soooo sorry that this has happened.  I am so sorry you have to be in this “club.”

Grief is a marathon…………a perpetual marathon.  Not a sprint.  It is a test of endurance that no one wants to try to pass.  Some members of “the club” do better than others.  Many of us just simply……….endure.  I pray that these families are able to simply…………..endure.

A Moment in Time

I have been out of touch Dear Readers.  I have had a full mind and heavy heart , leaving me with a lot to write about but unsure where to begin.  Different for me, if you have had the pleasure of my company you know…………… I am chatty!  However, at times when the heart is heavy the words become stuck.  This has become the case.

Thus,  I was glad to learn from my friend Kathy over at Bereaved and Blessed it was for Time Warp Tuesday.  Just the motivation I needed.  Kathy invites us to visit an old post, reflect on “where” we were when we first wrote it and “where” we are now, in our thoughts or on whatever “journey” we may be taking.  The subject this months is “gifts.”  Very apropos as Christmas calls us to be in the “Spirit of Giving.”  Easier said than done with a grieving heart sometimes stuck in “wishing” and “hoping” for what “no longer is” or “never will be.”

I chose a post from last September.  We were fast approaching the One Year Anniversary of losing Sweet Madeline and the weight of the grief was suffocating.  Adding to the weight was watching her brother’s grieve and try to comprehend the unthinkable loss of their baby sister.  The Big Brother quite simply adored Madeline and was literally in her face at any opportunity.  Sneaking any chance to be cheek to cheek.  Not knowing what the future held I was quite often telling him to “please get out of her face, stay out of her room, let her rest.”  Reader, as you probably guessed, The Big Brother NEVER DID listen.  

As well, never did I dream this……………… his failure to listen …………….. could quite possibly be the best gift  ever.  I recount the day I received this gift in A Brother’s Love.

Welcome back……….I watched this again for the first time in a long time today.  I am still, today, as touched by the gentle heart my now Really Big Boy still has!!!!   I am even more grateful as I struggle through, without our Precious Girl, to have even just a moment preserved for a band aid for my heart.  To catch just one of those rasberry kisses.

As a Mom, I am on that poor boy all the time to just listen!!  Possibly, I should have learned my lesson with “Madeline’s Moments.”  What a treasure to have a non-listening child sneak in to video his “irresistable” Baby Sister sleeping.  To have this “gift” to watch these moments and feel completely transported to that moment when our Precious Girl lay sleeping in the next room and feel for just a “moment” that I could quite possibly just reach through and kiss and hug that Sweet, Sweet Baby.  And just for a moment I quite possibly felt her touch and  inhaled her sweet perfume…………….a gift………….no amount of money could ever buy.