Because it was time

One of my best friends in this world asked me the other day why I had not been posting on my blog in a while. The only answer that I could give her is that I thought that it was probably just depressing to read. Once she explained that she enjoyed reading my blog for the fact that she could understand how I was feeling and dealing with everything that makes up my life right now, I realized that was my whole purpose in writing this blog in the first place. This is my way of communicating to my close friends, who I don't get to talk to on the phone regularly, or see every week and in some cases only once a year. I am blessed to have friends who actually care to know how I am feeling and I love them for their love of me.







I know that I have written of my "dark times" when I go into a deep depression. This darkness occurs every couple of weeks and can last from up to one week to two weeks. During this time, I feel as if I fall off of the face of the Earth. I don't communicate with anyone other than my children. It is almost as if I close myself up into a cocoon, and wait out my dark mood until the sun seems to shine again and I emerge a new person. Or I view it as a molting process. I curl up into myself to shed the sadness and hopelessness from my skin emerging new and bright with a newfound hope and happiness.






Since mom died, my writing has come to a halt. My manuscript sits on the surface of my laptop, beckoning to me to come and revisit my characters and become lost in the little world that I have created. My mind will not allow me to go there at this point. I am hoping that I will get back to that make believe world of people I have grown to love, even if they are only in my mind. I know that they want me to finish their story so that hopefully others will fall in love with them too. In a way I am being selfish for keeping them under the wrap of my laptop when I truly believe others would enjoy taking a journey with my characters. Maybe I will visit them tonight. Maybe not. If there is one thing that I have learned from the past 6 months is that I don't make too many plans. Plans have a way of grounding you to a purpose that may or may not be leading you in the direction in which you should be going.






Back to myself, I guess. My flashbacks have resided. I am sleeping without waking up thinking that Mother is not gone, that I had made a terrible mistake when I saw her on the embalming table. I had a strange occurrence at Wal-Mart before Easter. Before I write about that let me preface this by saying that I know that my religion prohibits me from believing in ghosts, and as a Christian, I don't believe in them simply because I believe in the Bible and God's word leaves no room for lost souls wandering this earth. However, I do believe in Angels and spirits, but not ghosts. In Randy Alcorn's book 'Heaven' he mentions several times that God will allow the spirit of our loved one to touch us or communicate with us in some way from time to time. This is meant to bring comfort, not fear. Back to my incident in Wal-Mart, I was late getting the boys Easter basket supplies and had to go there around 11:30 that night. I had gotten everything for the Easter baskets and was walking down the aisle next to the butter and eggs when I smelled the scent of White Diamonds perfume. I have been preparing myself for months as to what would happen when I smelled that perfume, because it was my mom's perfume, it was her "smell" mixed with cigarettes of course but still White Diamonds. No matter how hard I had prepared myself, I probably couldn't have prepared myself for the onslaught of that scent to my nerves. I stopped in the middle of the aisle, my eyes were wide and I couldn't blink. I just stood there and sniffed the air. If anyone had been standing around me they would have thought I was impersonating a dog. The scent was strong, but then dissipated the further I moved away from the eggs. I slowly backed up my cart, sniffing the whole time until I found the scent again, in front of the eggs. "Someone must have been standing here just now getting eggs and has on that perfume," I told myself. I looked around the store because the smell was so strong that had a person left it, they would still be in the vicinity. I saw no one around me. I sniffed a few more times and then moved on to the milk. Then I smelled it again, stronger now, with the hint of cigarettes mixed in. At this point my eyes began to water and tears started flowing down my cheeks because the smell was so much like my mother it pulled at my heart. I stood there looking around me for another person to explain the smell, while not wanting to leave the spot because the scent was so strong. I sniffed the air for another few minutes and decided that I was losing my mind. I got my milk and started away when I smelled it again. It seemed as though the scent was all around me, inside my nostrils, on my clothes, surrounding me and for a moment I was paralyzed in awe and uncertainty. My eyes were pouring now and the smell was depleting me instead of fulfilling me at that point so I wanted to get away from it. I hurried over to the cereal aisle where the smell went away entirely.


During that entire time I looked around me to explain the smell had come from another woman shopping nearby. I am sure the security people at Wal-Mart thought I looked nuts on their security cameras. There I was, with my grocery cart, my nose sniffing up and down, turning round and round with wide eyes looking for something that wasn't there, and tears rolling down my face. There was no on around me in that part of the store. When I got to the cereal area there were more people but no on smelled like White Diamonds.


I can't explain what happened to me in Wal-Mart that night, but after that night I have felt peaceful again. It was almost as if just smelling her was enough to give me some peace for a while. If God allowed me to smell her once, I hope that he will allow me to smell her again. I miss her so much that I hate myself for feeling the relief during the first weeks of her passing. I talk to her in my head and Tucker and I cry over her at night. He is such a sweet soul and misses Nana so much.


Death is horrible. It makes me long for eternity so that there will be no more tears.


On occasion, I can still hear mom's voice. Usually when I am thinking about a problem, or I am mad or upset about something. I can hear her giving her opinion in my mind and that gives me comfort. This also may be a sign that I am completely crazy, but I'll take her voice in my head even if it means they put me in a padded room. She may have been selfish, and a terrible mother and a terrible role model, but I know that she loved me even if she didn't show it in her actions. To be in her presence again would be amazing. Just to sit and feel her all around me. That's not possible now, with all of her belongings gone and her house sold. I just have the memories and the mementos that I kept downstairs. I can't bring myself to go through them right now but I will one day.


And, when I finish that manuscript, I will dedicate it to her. Oddly that was one of the last things she asked me for, was to bring my book to her so that she could read it. For that reason alone I need to finish it, in her honor.


I love you momma. I know you can't see this, but I hope somehow you hear my thoughts as I type.


With God's Love around me, I leave you tonight.


April

Connor turns 4 and Mother's day

Tomorrow is going to be a day of joy and sadness, as it will be Connor's 4th birthday and the first Mother's Day without my mother. On one hand I am so amazed that my baby is already four years old. Why does the time pass so quickly during the days filled with joy and the days filled with sadness seem to crawl. My memory of his birth is bittersweet as it was a hard labor and even worse, I could not hold my precious little man for twelve hours because he was in the NICU. The first two weeks of Connor's life showed me how very brittle our lives are and that we ultimately no control over our lives. During the fourteen days of staying in the NICU with Connor I learned to give everything over to God. That was the first time that a situation had ever truly brought me to my knees. I was completely in His hands, at His mercy, for I had no idea if my sweet baby would be cured from the Group B Strep that threatened bacterial meningitis. It was a dark time but also a time of light because I felt myself in the arms of God and for the first time I really understood what it meant to be vulnerable.
Unfortunately those two weeks also etched a wound that would fester and grow over the next two years. That wound was inflicted by my mother, and the only antiseptic was God's love. Mother did not make it down to sit with me in the NICU during those difficult days. Sure, she had good intentions to come, every day she would call my cell and tell me that she had planned to come down but her back was hurting, or her stomach was upset, etc. I guess the birth of Connor was also the beginning of her constant sickness. Whether or not she could have really tolerated the fifty minute drive to Birmingham was never discussed. I just know that she wasn't there. Everyday I sat on the uncomfortable vinyl couch in the small nursing room provided by the NICU for babies who could leave the unit. I held Connor every second that I was in that room. I nursed him, then I would pump, watch reruns of the Cosby Show, Golden Girls, and Everybody loves Ramond. Brad wanted to save his maternity leave for when Connor was able to come home, so he would come to the hospital everyday on his lunch break and bring food from the cafeteria. We would eat together and he would hold Connor, who had an iv in his little leg at first, then his hand, then finally his forehead. Then he would leave to go back to work and I would continue with my vigil until 7 or 8 when I would go home to see Tucker before bed.
It is odd to think that Tucker was the same age then as Connor is now. He was so mature and sweet during the whole NICU experience. I am sure he never understood why his baby brother couldn't come home at first, but he didn't ask many questions.
So many friends helped out during those weeks. Margaret Ann and her mom came to clean my house, which was a mess! Bethany brought cookies and sat with me for a while. Alex came to see me, though she didn't realize that she was pregnant with her own John Hallman who she had prayed for and tried for over a year to get pregnant with. Forrest and Polly dropped by on their way back from the beach. Andrew and Robert both came to visit in the NICU. It was also at this time that I became so thankful for my friends. My mom only came one day toward the end, coincidently on the same day that Daddy and Jackie returned form Indiana. Of course mom was there when Connor was born, but that was a fiasco.
The fact that she had not been there for me was devastating and told me where I stood in our relationship, as well as where her grandchildren stood. I will never understand her selfish ways. She even mentioned to me that since I was going through so much I didn't need to worry about her Mother's day gift, and that I could get it for her when Connor was better. At the time I found that audastic. Now I think that she truly thought that I was worrying over what to get her for mother's day, when in fact that was the last thing in the world I was thinking. That mother's day was the day that the doctor's told me Connor had to stay another week in the NICU. I left the hospital that day broken. I cried myself to sleep when I got home and didn't leave the bed for a day. Before that day, we had hope that he could go home with us on Mother's day, but that day we found out that all three cultures had shown the Group B strep. The next day I found out that I too had an infection in my c-section wound. It was a rare type of Staph. I walked from the emergency room where they had tested the infected site, over to the NICU for my daily sit with Connor. Those days were so uncertain and I have never felt more helpless and hope that I never feel that way again.
So tomorrow, on Mother's day, I will celebrate my sweet baby Connor's fourth year on this earth with us. I will also celebrate being a mother to him and Tucker. However I will be missing the mother that I have lost. Even with her selfish ways, and her mind numbing relentless tirades, I miss her very much. I would love to be able to call her tomorrow and tell her Happy Mother's day. I will tel lher in prayers tonight instead and ask Jesus to deliver my message. I know she is with me, I have felt her a lot today. It still seems unreal that she is gone.
God is good, and God is just. Our trials and tribulations are brief, and our future with Him by ourside has infinite possibilities. Two of those possibilities are sleeping peacefully upstairs.
I am blessed to be a Christian, a mother, and a wife. God is good, all the time, all the time.

Brain Freeze

Crapbag! This is has been my term for the past few months when I am frustrated. Lewd and crewd it is, but so be it. It's better than a lot of other words that can fly out of my mouth without a moments notice.
Just read a horrible book that has me depressed and missing my mother. My family is in bed, and I am up despite the fact that I am exhausted. So many thought running through my mind. Feeling shell shocked again, just as the Doc said I would. I hate this feeling. I want to crawl into a cave and hide from the world for about six months. I would want to take my boys with me of course, because when I am not with them it is worse. Yet, sometimes I feel an immense need to have a break. They are spending a rare night with my dad and stepmom tomorrow night which will be good for them adn good for my dad, and hopefully good for me.
I was painting again this week. It was nice to feel the brush in my hands again and mix the paint and play with colors on the canvas. I went downstairs to get my glue sticks for my hot glue gun. I didn't remember, as I opened the drawer that my glue sticks lay behind the box containing my mother's ashes. I was stunned, I couldn't breath for a minute and felt oddly still, almost disembodied for a minute or two. Of course in my traumatised brain, I laughed it off and kept going. This is the issue, I can't pretend to laugh, I can't pretend to not feel, to not care. I have to let this go. My inner sense of control combined with my obstinance will not let me grieve properly. Hence, I am pushing these feelings back, and trying to just move on, when that is not normal.
I always thought that my cousin was a drama queen for falling apart before mom died and then many times afterward. Now I realize that she is acting exactly how I should be acting. Will this madness ever end. I'm trapped inside my brain, and I can't get out. Praying for God to help me.

Be Still and Know that I am God

I started reading my Daily devotional today, as well as writing in my prayer journal. The piece of scripture: "Be still and know that I am God" Psalm 46:10 lept out at me today. The author of the devotional explained that in several translations 'still' means 'rest'. This verse is special to me just as the verse "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7.
I love these verses because worry and anxiety over the safety and care of my family has always plagued me. I worry about my children's health and safety daily, I worry about our finances, I worry about my dad and stepmom, about my husband's job. You name it, and I worry. During my 'Dark Times' the worry and fear can take over and I wallow in my own depression for a week or more. I learned in my devotion this morning that if I will make sure to have quiet time with God a daily ritual, that my fears will subside as I grow to trust God even more every day.
This morning was wonderful. Our new dog Marley was playing in the backyard, my boys were playing happily by themselves in the playroom, Brad was watching basketball and I was reading my devotion and writing in my prayer journal. The only bad thing that we did today was to not go to church. Connor is getting over his ear infection and Brad may have the flu, so we decided to stay at home. I know God is okay with that. Besides, there are times when I am sitting in church when my mind wanders and I am not paying attention to God while I am in His house! Today, at home with my family, reading about trusting God in my devotional, made me give God praise wholeheartedly and with so much emotion and joy that it made up for not being in His house this morning.
We cleaned out my mom's house yesterday and it is completely empty. To see her home as nothing but an empty shell added yet another layer of sadness to the mountain growing inside me. Yet as the sadness comes, a relief is also present and somehow gives me a sense of balance. I don't have to worry about her house anymore and I don't have to go into her house and be assaulted by her presence everywhere I turn. The memories that I found in her drawers and her smell all around me sent me into a tailspin everytime I walked through those doors. I miss her very much. This week I am not angry with her and her alcoholism and lack of nurturing. Instead I long to hear her voice, even if she were to give me a talking to about something I had done or not done. I just want to be able to tell her I love her again. the anger is much easier to face. This longing for something I can never have again in this life is much harder to bare. However the anger will kill me on the inside, and the mourning will enable me to grow and become closer to God. I choose to mourn, and God will take care of me. I will be stil and know that He is there with me, through it all.

Mr. Sandman Leave me alone

I finally went to see our family physician today. I had been putting the visit off since Mom had passed because I felt like I had gained weight and he is such a strong believer in me and my athletic ability (such that it was) that I didn't want to let him down. As soon as I told him that mom had died, he understood. I don't even think that I must have gained any weight after all because he didn't mention it, and he would have. My foot has not healed enough for full out running yet,but it will in time. The other night I came to the realization that I am TERRIFIED of going to bed at night. If I take a nap during the day with Connor or on the weekend, I am fine. However, going to bed in the night is a different story. I lay there and images of my mom's final hours, and seconds flash across my mind. I see them placing the magnet on her pacemaker, making her heart stop. I see the heart rate monitor register the flat line and the 0 under respitory. The worst image is permanently burnt into my mind. It is of her on the embalming table in the funeral home. I had to go in and identify her. It was horrible. I wish that I could reach into my brain and rip that image out and throw it into a fire.
All of these images, and my extreme fear of sleep, my mood swings, and overall numbness toward my mother's death led Dr. Moore to diagnose me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Before mom had even died I thought I was suffering from PTSD from the three times that I had found her unresponsive. So now the question is, will this ever go away??? Will these images leave me at peace. I am being haunted and it is terrible. Dr. Moore is a Christian like myself and he told me that it could very well be Satan attacking me, knocking me down, and making me miserable. I believe this could be the case. He recommended praying for my children, or just talking to God and asking him to take those images away. I will do that tonight, once I brave getting into the bed. I would rather sit up and pass out from sleep meds in a chair than go into that bed at night. Another sad part of this is my sweet husband can't sleep well without me in the bed! So he is pestering me to come to bed and didn't realize until tonight that I just can't. Not before taking my anti anxiety meds.
I have become a legal pill popper. A person relying on meds to keep me sane. On the one hand I am happy to have them to take because they help, but on the other hand I don't want to need them.

What will our Birthday be like in Heaven?

I can only Imagine - Mercy Me

I can only imagine what it will be like, when I walk by Your side...
I can only imagine, what my eyes will see, when Your Face is before me!
I can only imagine. I can only imagine.
Surrounded by Your Glory, what will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you, Jesus? Or in awe of You, be still?
Will I stand in Your presence, or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing 'Hallelujah!'? Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine! I can only imagine!

I can only imagine, when that day comes, when I find myself standing in the Son!
I can only imagine, when all I will do, is forever, forever worship You!
I can only imagine! I can only imagine!

I posted this tonight because one of my friends from highschool, who passed away about a month after my mom, was able to celebrate her birthday in Heaven today. Her earthly father had passed before her, so I know that he was by her side today during the celebration she undoubtebly had in Heaven. Can you imagine what your birthday will be like in Heaven? My small mind can not even comprehend it. I just know that it will be a celebration to rival all others. However, I think that in heaven, your true birthday, will be the day that you died on earth. Because you were born a human, into sin and death, and because of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, you are in heaven celebrating your return to the heavenly father who created you.
I have thought about my mom's birthday this year with the realization that she will be celebrating in Heaven as well. Before we let her go that night in the hospital I told her to "go home to Granny, and Uncle Jack, Uncle Fred, and Aunt Caroline, but mostly to go home to your Father" When I was telling her this, I know she could hear me. I told her not to worry about leaving me, because I would be fine. Now as I imagine her birthday celebration in July I am so thankful that she will be surrounded by family and friends and most of all God himself. Who knows, maybe you even get gifts in Heaven, glorious gifts made of things that we still do not know we have here on Earth. I imagine the cakes to be made of the finest sugar and cream, wich the most delicious honey running through the icing. For my mom, I hope that the Angels give her chocolate, because above any other food, she would eat chocolate.
There is so much to look forward to in eternity. Reconnection with loved ones lost is the thing that I look forward to the most. I want to give my mother that last hug that I should have given her. I want to stand and hold my Granny's hand and tell her about my children and how much she would have loved them. I want to meet my grandfather, my mother's father, who died when mom was only 9 months old. I want to touch his face and place my hand in his, because I have heard that he was gentle and kind. I also want to meet my dad's father, Joseph Tucker and tell him what a wonderful father his son had been to me. And to run into my Granny Tucker's arms and tell her thank you for teaching me how to crotchette and for giving me Dr. Peppers everytime I came to her house. I lost her with I was only 6 and have vague memories of her, but in each one I sense a feeling of warmth, along with gentleness, shrouded in a straightbacked, elegant southern bell with delicate hands and an intricately woven bun.
These peopel will be there to greet me one day when my time comes and I am excited for that day. I am in no hurry, mind you. But when it comes, I will be ready to kiss the feet of my saviour and tell him Thank you a million times for giving me grace to fall on my knees and know that his love for me will remain no matter how bad I have been or how far I have fallen. This my friends, is what we live for on Earth. OUr day of recogning, when we recognize the person who has cradled us in His hands since the day we were born.
Hold on tight, this will be a bumpy road until we reach the end. But when our journey is over, it is only then, that our lives will begin.

A little piece of Heaven

Today was a gorgeous day in the south. We have many sunny warm, often hot days here, but today was perfect. The sky was clear blue, a deep azure blue that looked as though it could have been sliced in two with a sharp piece of glass. The temperature was 70 degrees and the sun was bright. A minimal breeze fluttered around us as if it were our own personal fan and kept us comfortable. I was sitting by the lake at our local park with my three year old son and told him that I think we were seeing a little piece of Heaven today.
Since my mom died, I have been reading Randy Alcorn's book, 'Heaven'. I read it off and on, for short periods of time. One thing that I wanted to learn from his book was what my mom might be experiencing in Heaven. Mainly, what will heaven look like? Everything that Dr. Alcorn has read and studied has led him to believe that the present Heaven will look just like our current Earth, but with more vibrant colors, perfect shapes, perfect weather, everything will be exquisitly proportioned and fit to our needs in the present heaven.
After reading this passage I am noticing little glimpses of heaven here on earth. My favorite glimpse has been watching my boys play together and laugh thier loud, rolling, cackle laugh that my mom used to love to hear over the phone. When I watch them laughing together this way I feel like I am getting a little piece of Heaven.
Another glimpse would be when something I hear or see causes strong feelings to emerge inside me and I get goosebumps on my skin. This is when I feel the Holy Spirit stir within me. I imagine in Heaven, my skin will tingle with that sense of joy and expectation all of the time in the precense of Jesus.
Watching my sweet boys sleep at night, cuddling them in my arms, snuggling up to them and stealing kisses from their soft plump cheeks. Those all feel like Heaven.
I was reading a post on facebook that my friend's son had made her laugh really hard, the good kind of belly laugh where tears come to your eyes, and I realize that when that happens, it is a little piece of heaven. Laughter has been rare for me the past three months. I had been longing to have a good belly laugh to soothe my soul. My wonderful friend Jaime came by to see me the other day and gave me a ton of good laughs! We still have a chandelier hanging in the ceiling of the room that was once a dining room, but is now part of the playroom. She hit her head going back and forth in that room 3 different times! Each time, instead of inquiring about her wellfare, I fell to my knees with a belly laugh that made tears come to my eyes. I laughed so hard that I had to tell her I was sorry for not worrying about her head! Of course she laughed too, and the kids caught on to our laughter and pretty soon my house was filled with laughter! It was a beautiful sound. I realized then that I was getting to hear what Heaven must sound like. A chorus of laughter brought on by the ultimate joy of being with our Creator and our Saviour for eternity. And then I felt blessed.