My Funny Valentine

Valentine's Day...I feel like you either love it or you hate it. And scrolling through Facebook posts throughout the day, this was even more obvious. There was the love it camp posting pictures of flowers and chocolates, pictures of date night attire, check-ins at fancy restaurants and selfies with champagne glasses and kissing your lover. Then, there was the hate it camp: diatribes against this stupid commercial holiday, rants against the millions spent on roses that will be dead and gone in a few weeks, and even a picture of a dead Cupid with an arrow in his back. 

I don't think that I fit into either of these camps! I don't love it, but I don't hate it. I enjoy seeing what everyone else is doing on this special day! I love the pictures of my friends enjoying each other and having fun! I celebrate with them as they proclaim their love for one another. Many of the friends on my Facebook page I have watched through the years blossom and grow into adults in love. And it warms my heart. But I will admit that there were several times throughout the day that I maybe hated it for a few seconds. Thinking about how angry I would get at Brian as I walked through our house and collected the Valentine's gifts he had purchased, after I had told him we weren't doing gifts. Flowers. Balloons. Jewelry. Stuffed animals. Ugh! Money down the drain...or so I'd pretend. As I was cursing him a bit, my heart would soar knowing that he had gone to all that trouble for me. And I will admit that as today passed, there were moments that I would look to my counter, hoping to see flowers. Daisies...never roses...and he always knew that. 

But, those moments were fleeting. Brief. Enough to take my breath away, or send and twinge of pain to my heart, but my day was so full of joy and happiness and love I couldn't help but move on! Starting with good morning texts from my sissy and a special Valentine text from her. Manicures and pedicures with my girls and my momma. Dinner with my parents and girls and my other mom and dad, Sherri and Tom...and Rachel, who is one of my other sisters. Texting my bestie off and on throughout the day. A quick phone call and an "I love you" to my other bestie. It was a good day! A day filled with love! It was a good day!

I think I have mentioned before that I am an admin of a grief group on Facebook...a young widow group. All week I have watched as they have posted memories of their Valentines, their husbands that have passed. I have messaged these women privately to check on them. They have messaged me with sadness and fear and emptiness. They have posted similar memories of mine with Brian. A holiday filled with flowers and jewelry, fancy dinners, hugs and kisses...no more. This holiday for many of them is filled with sadness and fear, a gaping hole left in their hearts. And my heart aches for them because I know that pain. I know that sadness. And I feel for them. But I also share my thoughts and feelings on it. I have sadness. I have fear. I have a gaping hole in my heart. But I am healing. I am finding myself and who I am in this world as a widow, but also as a person, and more importantly as a Christian. For I have found someone who can heal all those wounds and loves me more than Brian or any earthly man ever could!

My Jesus! My Savior! His love is so great He died to save me! He died so that I may live! And as I learn more about my faith and my place in this crazy world, I learn exactly how much He loves me. And I learn that it's ok to breathe again. 

 

And as I see His love in my life, it connects me to the people in my life more deeply. Today was amazing! And I looked at the people in my life through eyes of intense love.  My momma. My girls. Tom and Sherri and Rachel. My sister. All of my friends. All of my family. Such intense love! Such intense feelings of love and gratefulness and peace and joy! I love, because He first loved us. And feeling His love intensify in my life, has only given me the ability to love even more!

I don't need a holiday to love others. And I don't need flowers and chocolate and jewelry to know I'm loved and to love others. I just need to pause long enough to feel His love shower down on me. And to also pause long enough to share that love with others! With you all!

Valentine's Day...a day for love. But I think everyday should be set aside for love! So, my challenge to you is to make everyday about love! Send a card to someone who you love and let them know! Hug someone! Grab their hand and tell them you love them! Stick a post it note on someone's car window reminding them how much they mean to you! Smile at a stranger! Love! And be loved! For God so loved the world...and forever set the bar for how we are to love! So love! And be loved!

Happy Valentine's Day! To all the people that I love... ❤️

Catch Me I'm Falling

"You can’t keep picking people up; you have to stop them from falling."  -Robin Williams

There have been a million topics in the last few weeks that I have felt compelled to blog about. So many things have spun around in my head. Amelia and I have had some amazing heart-to-hearts. Emerson and I have spent a lot of time together lately so she and I are also talking and I'm getting some good stuff from her too. The Seahawks have had us on an emotional roller coaster of a ride. My heart and mind have been on the students and staff at Olympic High School as Amelia and I coordinate the bracelet-making, and make bracelets into the night for the students that were tragically lost in a car accident. And through all of it, my blog has been silent. There are so many things to write about. So many story lines that roll around in my head. So many ideas from my children. And yet no words come out. 

I have written before about the difficulty of blogging. That difficulty isn't about how hard it is to come up with topics, but rather how to weed through topics. How to consider my emotions, my readers' emotions, my children's emotions. There are so many things tied into the blog.  And then, there is also my personal journey and where I am on my path. The progress or lack of progress I feel I am making has a definite impact on what I want to write, or even IF I want to write. Today? I want to write. 

A few nights ago, Amelia and I were laying in bed together talking. It's our few precious moments of talking and prayer and just being together before I tuck her in and then turn out the light. Our "one more thing mommy" moments. We were talking about her day and she suddenly said, "I love our house! I'm so happy here!"

I smiled at her and told her I was so happy that she was happy and asked her what made her happy about our house. She said she loved it because it was big and safe and warm and because Emerson and I were here. And then, her little face got very serious and she said "And yet our house is also the most terrifying place in the world!" I try really hard to remain stoic when these conversations happen, and over the years I feel like I have gotten pretty good at keeping neutral facial expressions. My close friends will probably tell you how very wrong I am because I kind of tend to show a lot of emotion in my face. So I blankly stared back at my little seven-year-old as I worried about where this conversation was going to turn. 

"What do you mean, Amelia?"

"Well, I love our house. But it's a scary place also."

"Why is our house scary, Amelia?"

She paused for a moment before she carried on. "Well, we have a lot of hard conversations together here. We talk a lot about bad things that have happened. We have bad dreams and my room turns into a horrible place at night. But the worst? Walking down the hallway at night."

"Why is that the worst?" I muttered as I was wracking my brain trying to figure out what she was going to say."

"Well, I think it's because at night when it's dark, I don't like to be without you in the back of the house. So I run super fast to try and get what I need quick before I really freak out. And then, when I'm doing that, I panic that I will trip and fall and hurt myself. And if I'm all alone, who will catch me?"

I paused for a moment to let this sink in. I smiled and told her that I thought I could fix that. "How about when you go down the hallway at night, I turn the light on and we walk down the hallway together?"

She smiled and said, "Well, that would make it better. Because the hallway might not be as scary. But it would be even better if you would walk with me and hold my hand. That way, if I trip, you can stop me from falling."

The very next morning, I saw the quote at the top of this blog from Robin Williams. He was a huge advocate for the homeless and insisted that extras in most of his movies were cast by people who were homeless or struggling. It was written into his contracts for most of his movies. When I read this I immediately thought of the conversation I had just had with Amelia. It's amazing sometimes how things just happen and how I can tie things together for a blog post. 

Something else that has happened to tie this together is a shift for me at work. My babies at work need to have their hands held. They need someone to stop them from falling. I watch every day as kids pass through my office, or walk past me in the hallways. Kids who walk through life terrified, unsure of their steps, and just waiting to fall. Wanting so desperately to hold someone's hand so that they don't fall. And each day our jobs as educators get more and more difficult. We are supposed to teach. We are supposed to worry about Smarter Balance and test scores and intervention groups and meeting IEP goals. I read pages and pages of assessment data and therapy data. I plan activities and rework programming to make sure my paperwork is lined up and everything is exactly the way the state and the federal government want it to look. And in the meantime, my kids are stumbling, and I'm too busy with other pieces sometimes to notice that they are falling flat on their faces. And it's not because their paperwork is out of compliance. Or because I didn't write the correct goal for them. Their home lives are chaotic. They are coming to school hungry and tired. Moms and dads work overtime and are never home. They don't have jobs. They may not have homes. The kids are worried their parents are splitting up. Or their baby brother just died. Dad has cancer. They live in a two bedroom house with three families total. Mom expects the kids to take care of her. Dad is out to sea for most of the school year. And they are sent to us everyday to fix them. Teach them to read. Help them learn social skills. Push them to learn math when they cannot even focus on the paper in front of them. But make sure that they are not singled out. Ensure that a college won't find out that their kid had speech services. Don't give them headphones if they ask because we don't want them to look different. And they are falling. They are stumbling. Crashing and burning. 

So, since reading that quote I have tried to apply it to my time at work. To know that I need to bolster these babies up and help them before it gets to the point where they stumble and fall. So Rice Krispie treats for the baby who never gets breakfast. Shampoo and lotion for the girl who is turning into a lady and needs to know how to take of herself. Cradling the little second grader as she cried because her mom and dad are fighting, and just spending her time with me talking and crying and trying to figure out what to do to help her. Taking a little extra time with a mom because she is scared and just wants to be listened to also! 

It is so important to help others! And to help them before they get to the point of falling. Because it is so much easier to stop someone from falling than have to pick them up off the ground. Taking a little extra time to make sure they are solid and stable so that they can run the race themselves, confident in who they are and where they are headed. It's not easy. And it's exhausting. And you can't stop everyone from falling. But I try and think about my own girls and what they have been through. And as I send them to school, I try and think what is the important lesson here? Is it two digit addition? Or knowing that they are in a safe environment? Is it spelling lists and memory work? Or is it the comfort of having an adult in union with myself that will grab Amelia by the hand and tell her it's ok! Or having someone tell Emerson it's ok to be sad and things will get better. 

Human connection is so important. And so many of the babies that come through my office door don't care that I'm teaching them expected behaviors, or the correct way to say their R sound. They care that I listened to them cry. They care that I handed them a tissue as they sobbed to me about their momma being sick. They care that they know they can run to me if they need me. And that is so much more important to me than progress on their IEP or what their score is on their evaluation. 

So, be that person for someone! Be the one that holds them up in their time of need! Be the one that keeps them from falling. But, if they happen to fall, be there to pick them up and dust them off. Just try to open your eyes and see what happened, see why they fell. Because you don't know how many chances you'll have to help them up before it's too late! 

Will the Last One Out Please Shut the Door?

The day after the Super Bowl is always a difficult day for me. You see, I love football. And most of you know that I love Seahawks football. I grew up watching football with my grandfather, so I have so many wonderful memories with him, and even though he has been gone way too many years, every game he crosses my mind. So when I had the chance to buy season tickets for my husband that first Christmas we were together, I jumped at the chance. So back in 2006 I got our name on the wait list. Back then it was a two-year wait for tickets. I remember crossing our fingers that first year hoping for a miracle and that we would finally get our tickets. We didn't...so the next year was the same thing. Crossing our fingers and hoping it would be the year we would get our tickets. It was! And Then I found out I was pregnant with Amelia. The last thing I wanted to do was haul my pregnant self up all those flights of stairs. So Brian took friends. And I watched from home.

The next season came around. I had a baby. I just couldn't leave her. So again Brian took friends. And I watched from home. And this continued for a few years where I would make excuses to not go and let my husband take friends. One game, Brian couldn't go. I sold them to this girl named Kristi. She took a friend. Then, the next season, Brian had a game he couldn't go to. And I decided I was finally going...with Kristi. We had a blast!! 

In 2010, Brian and I went to the first two games of the season, and we had the best time! It was the best date days we had had for a long time with now TWO babies in our home. The first times we left the girls. We laughed. We talked. They were amazing days! And then October happened and just like that he was gone and my world was rocked. Panicking that I was down to one income with two children I didn't know what to do. So, sadly, I posted my tickets for sale on Facebook. They were gone in less than 20 minutes. To people that I deeply loved. That girl Kristi bought a pair. And then messaged me and told me she was taking me for my birthday. And we had a blast! A couple other people that had bought my tickets ended up taking me also. I have amazing people in my life. 

The next season Kristi and went to every game together, except one when I was super sick. Then a complete season together and our boys made it to the Super Bowl. And then a complete season this year and another Super Bowl appearance. We just might be lucky. 

The conclusion of yesterday's Super Bowl game was heart-breaking for me, for more reasons that the loss. The end of football season is a hard thing for me. The Seahawks losing was tough, but I rejoice in the fact that we were still playing in February. And how amazing that first home game next season will be when they unveil the NFC Champions banner at the Clink. But the ending of the game yesterday was also the ending of built in hang out time with my bestie. The end of the game yesterday was an end to weekly walks down memory lane thinking about my grandpa. So much emotion tied to just a game!?

In fact, someone said that to me today: "What wrong with you? It's just a game!" And they are right. It is just a game. But, it's not just a game to me!  It's watching a team of outstanding young men pull together in some super tough moments. It's being inspired by a group of men that strive to do their best. It's watching these men pray together and offer thanks to God and bring Him to light in a very public way, and me wanting to follow their example and give praise to Him in all that I do. It's, again, built in bestie time with Kristi and all of the tradition and happiness and strength that she gives me in our ferry chats and Fireball toasts and screaming embraces during the game. It's talking plays and knowing calls before the ref signals, and knowing that I'm a girl who knows a lot about football because of my grandpa. It's the fun of getting to know the people in Row E and having a built-in football family. It's hearing the national anthem and watching the perfectly orchestrated fireworks go off and having shivers of goosebumps rise up my spine. It's anxiously waiting to see who will be raising the 12th man flag, and then sobbing thinking of how much my grandpa admired "insert flag-raisers name here" and how cool it would be if he knew I had season tickets. It's following Blue Thunder drumline out of the stadium after a win. It's all those things, and so much more!

So, yes, I am heartbroken after the loss yesterday. But my disappointment doesn't come from lamenting whether Wilson should have passed, or handed it off to Lynch. I don't question Pete Carroll's, or even Darrell Bevell's play-calling. Our boys fought hard, to the bitter end and as cheesy as this will sound? They are all winners! They have brought our city, our state, the joy of a Super Bowl win. Two appearances in two years! Not many teams can say that. Their individual back stories are amazing - the adversities they have overcome, the trials they have faced, the pain and obstacles they have overcome. They are amazing, whether they're bringing a trophy home or not. 

I will always be a 12...I will remain loyal no matter what, win, lose or tie. I wore my Seahawks gear today, and cried a little inside. Sure, it's just a game. For some. For me, it is my happy place. The place where the outside world is shut behind the gates of a football field. Where trouble and adversity stops being at the forefront of my brain and I can sit back and revel in the joy of football. Where I mourn the loss of my grandfather and find my smile in knowing that he has the best seats in the house. Where I accidentally found my lifelong best friend and get to share so much of my life with her. These things don't stop just because the game is over. But it sure is a lot more fun from our seats in Section 305!

So, to Pete, Russell, Doug, Kam, Richard, Earl, Jermaine, Marshawn, Bruce, Steve, Jon, and all the other amazing Seahawks: THANK YOU! Thank you for an amazing season, an incredible playoff run, and a bright future! I'll be counting down the days until our first pre-season game in August on my green and blue paper chain! Go Hawks!

Rememberlutions

What's your resolution for 2015? I read an article once that the most common resolutions were to lose weight, exercise more, and quit smoking. I have always come up with resolutions. I've always come up with things I want to improve on. Things I want to change. I've been overweight my whole life. That almost always makes the list. Getting my house more organized is another one that I would love to get a handle on. Figuring out how to keep my house and yard and everything maintained as a single working mom is often at the top for me also. 

The afternoon of New Year's Eve, Amelia, Emerson, and I started talking about resolutions. 

"What are resolutions, mommy?"

"Well, they are things in your life that you would like to fix or change in the new year."

"What does THAT mean?"

"Well, like my resolution for this year would be to lose weight and eat healthier. Or maybe I would resolve to exercise more."

"Why do you do that?"

"Well, it's kind of like a goal that you want to set for the new year."

"I think that is the dumbest thing that I've heard."

"Amelia! Why do you say that?"

"Well, you're telling me that we are going to reflect on the way that we failed in this year, think about how we are going to change who we are, and start a new year already thinking negative about ourselves and not liking who we are?"

When it was explained to me by a seven-year-old, I realized how ridiculous resolutions seem. It was then that I decided we were going to follow through with my rememberlutions project. I had seen the project on a buzzfeed article. Decorate a jar any way you want, and throughout the year you write down memories, accomplishments, important things that happened on a piece of paper and put it in the jar. Then, on December 31st of 2015, you pull the papers out and reflect on your most amazing year. I loved it when I saw it, but my conversation about resolutions with Amelia sealed the deal. We went to Michaels and loaded up on stickers, glitter glue, ribbon, foam pieces, and other embellishments. We came home and got to work, putting our jars together. We made them our own. We laughed and talked about our hopes and dreams for the new year. We talked about what we wanted to leave behind in the old year. And we decided what we were going to do with our jars. Emerson was adamant that her jar stay in her room. Amelia wanted to make sure that we didn't forget and end up with an empty jar in December 2015. I asked if we should write down something every day so it becomes a habit. I know in my stressful, busy life that I would forget. So making it a habit, but also working to find a positive about every day we encounter seems important also!

When we were finished with our jars, we took pictures of them to share on Facebook and then we sat back together. 

"Mommy, this was great!" Amelia let me know that she approved, and so did Emerson!

"I agree. MUCH better than a resolution!"

Amelia is right. Every year we pick something that we don't like about ourselves and choose a goal based on that. We strive towards something that changes us. Most of the time it's for the better. But it doesn't seem like the best way to bring in the new year. Picking yourself apart to come up with something that you'll just end up beating yourself up over when you are not successful. And be honest...how many resolutions have actually come to fruition for you? I have chosen to lose weight and eat better as my resolution for the last, oh, probably at least 20 years!! Guess what? I'm still fat! I still eat more Big Macs than I should. And typically, my resolution IS a reminder of my failures in life, and my failures with resolutions. 

This year? Peace! Happiness! Excitement about my New Years rememberlution! I get 365 days of good stuff to think about!! We had a blast already predicting things we might write for certain days! Aunt Julie coming to visit. Baby Edie's baptism. The Seahawks winning the Super Bowl. Fun, exciting things are coming! And in that list for me? Starting a new weight loss challenge. Maying losing twenty pounds. Maybe just folding the laundry as it comes right out of the dryer rather than letting it pile up on the bedroom floor. A whole year of excitement! A whole year of little victories. A tiny shift in perspective: from resolutions to rememberlutions, but a profound difference in how I ended 2014 and rang in 2015. 

Try it! Toss out your resolutions and sit down as a family, with friends, with loved ones and create! A jar, a box, a can...anything! What could you put in your jar? Bought a new house? Retired? Traveled to see family? It puts a smile on my face just thinking of all the possibilities for your jar! And then think about New Years  Eve...pulling strip by strip out of the jar and thinking about all the good that happened in a year. 

So many of my blog posts have to do with heartache and sadness, for me and for friends. This, for me, is a game-changer in that I get 365 days of seeking out the good!! So, join me! Do it! Find your happy this year! For many, and for me at times, my happy has been missing. And now, I get to see it, even the little tiny moments, filling a jar as we turn each page of 2015!

Happy New Year, my friends and family! I hope that the coming year brings you peace, joy, and a whole year of rememberlutions!

Seahawks and Magnets

3-3...back in mid-October the Seahawks Super Bowl repeat plans were dimming. It was getting to the point where I dreaded going to work because I would be confronted immediately with "What's wrong with your team?" "What happened to the Super Bowl repeat?" I would smile back politely and say "They'll do it! I believe in them!" And I did. I never doubted that they would come back strong and finish exactly where they deserved to be, the number one seed. Well, I maybe had some doubts sometimes. But I didn't show anyone that. Any team that goes through a season together forms a bond, a strong connection where everything just clicks. And then in the off-season, you lose key players. Maybe you trade Red Bryant. Or maybe Golden Tate decides to take a better offer. And your team balance is thrown off. You start the new season with new players, old players missing, injured players, the Madden curse looming, lots of hype, the same-old NFL hatred of the Seahawks. And then people are flustered when they suddenly find themselves sitting at 3-3. People declare our season over. We're out of contention. Our Super Bowl dreams are gone. And I just kept saying "It's ok. They got this." And I'd lay out the reasons for the loss that week. 

But then they clicked. They found the groove for the 2014 Seahawks team and they went on to win nine more games, only losing one more game, and clinching not only a playoff spot, but the number one seed and home field advantage throughout the playoffs. 

I was so blessed to be at that game, at all of the home games. To watch the teamwork and the amazing plays and the team bonds and even the heartbreaks. Holding my breath as Russell threw a pass. Grabbing my friend's arm as Marshawn barreled through the defensive line towards the end zone. Crossing my fingers as Hauschka kicked a fifty-plus yarder through the uprights. It was amazing!

The ferry rides back to Bremerton are always jam-packed with Seahawks fans. Tired and happy and cheering and buzzing with excitement. And this ferry ride was no different. For the first part of the trip, we sat with a lovely couple from Shelton. We chatted about football. They asked if Kristi and I watched away games together too. We said we didn't, that Kristi watched from her hometown and I watched with my girls. They asked about my girls and I took the chance to brag about them. Kristi found a friend on the ferry across the way and I continued to chat with our new football friends. She asked more about my girls, and then asked what my husband did and why he didn't join me for the games. I explained to her that he had passed away (that question doesn't bring fear to my heart like it used to. A brief stabbing is all). She apologized for bringing up something so awful and I told her it was ok. She asked about how we handled something like that. I explained that we were a good team and that we were all pretty strong and that we have an amazing support system. That we were ok! She smiled and said what a wonderful testament we were to family strength and making it through adversity. I smiled at her and told her I was proud of us for surviving a lot. Our conversation came to end and I went to find my friends again. 

When I got off the ferry and made my way to my car, my thoughts were with my girls. I wanted to get to them and hug them. So I went and picked them up and as we were driving home, I told the girls about my experience on the ferry. How proud that lady was at hearing our story and how that had made me proud of us, proud of them! That they had survived so much across the span of their little lives and they were such an inspiration to me. 

Amelia smiled at me and told me that we should be proud of all three of us. That we all fought and prayed and trusted God to get is where we were at that very moment. 

"Mommy, it's like we have magnets inside of each of us, and our magnets only stick to the people that are good for us. You know what happens if you can't find the right side of the magnet? Well, our magnets stick. And we are the strongest team ever! Hey! Kinda like the Seahawks! We are awesome, just like they are! Aren't we, mommy!"

"Yes, Amelia. Just like the Seahawks...our magnets are super strong. You have no idea how strong my magnet is attracted to yours..."

They will never understand. I'm sure it's a lot of pressure to put on two little human beings. But they will never understand how strong their magnets were for me. How their magnets were the only reason I got out of bed in the morning. Why I went to work each day. Why I pushed and continue to push to be ok. 

Our magnets are strong...Seahawks strong. I hold my breath as I watch Amelia perform on stage in dance recitals. I grab my friend's arm as I watch Emerson experience something challenging and make it through to the end zone. And I cross my fingers as they weave their way through life experiences. Much like the 2014 Seahawks, with all of our rough patches and all of the hard days and all of the tears that we shed, we've been granted the number one seed, with home field advantage throughout. We are in control of our destiny. We are in the drivers seat of our season. And when I look back at our record, we may have started off shaky at 3-3, but I can guarantee that we will be conference champs. Our future is bright! Our magnets are strong! And the trophy will be ours! And I can guarantee we'll be back-to-back champs...Go Duncan girls!!

And Go Hawks!!

A Horrible Common Thread

Putting my girls to bed is the hardest part of my day, I think. Well, maybe other than the 500 IEPs and meetings that happen throughout my day. But honestly, I know there are many moms that count down the minutes to when they can tuck their little monsters into bed. And I'm not saying that I don't also have those days where I'd like to maybe change the clock or just start the bath-bed routine a little bit earlier. But, most nights I dread tucking them away into their beds and turning off the lights and walking away. Why? Because I like spending time with them. I like playing with them. I like listening to their fits of giggles as they dress up or dance or draw together. When I tuck them into bed, the house is quiet. So quiet. Most nights too quiet. 

Then, without the distraction of a four-year-old and a seven-year-old, I start to think. And wonder. And daydream. And that almost always turns into anxiety. Or panic. Or sadness. You see, it's hard to experience loss in life and not have that be a constant thing just hanging in the back of your mind. People often want to know when I'm going to be over that. It's been four years since Brian died and life as I knew it started unravelling. I should be over it. I should be done with that. But, that's not how grief works. And that's really not how complicated grief works. 

Something that is difficult and has made it hard for me is that after loss, after going through the death of Brian, I began to be hyper-aware of other people's grief. You almost "take on" another person's sadness and pain as they go through it. News of tragedy or death or loss sends me reeling into my whole process again. My heart aches for that person. I know pain. I know loss. I know not wanting to get out of bed, but also wanting whatever the new normal is going to be to carry on as soon as possible. I grieve for that person. I grieve for their loss. And I grieve for my loss all over again. 

My story never matches anyone else's story. And I doubt it ever will, but even that doesn't matter. Loss in general is loss. And it is difficult. It is hard. There is a horrible commonality that you share and that is that a piece of your life was sucked away. A piece of your family, your hopes, your dreams is gone. That hole is permanent. That hole is damaging. That hole is devastating. And that hole, for me, is exposed every time I have a friend or a coworker or a loved one go through the process of loss. 

The other side to that for me is my mission to help. My mission to hold them and protect them and give them advice in how to survive whatever stage they may be in. I have no idea if it is helpful. I have no idea if it is wanted. But my personality has always been to fix things. To make things right. To help wherever I can. And I have to believe that God has placed me on this path at this very time to help others who are experiencing loss. I have to believe that He has a higher purpose for all of this, for taking my husband when he did. So, I try and find the good in this situation and help. Giving advice to those that have felt loss, when needed. Helping those who surround those who have experienced loss understand this horrible process and how to bolster them up.

So, when my friend's husband was killed in a car accident a couple years ago, I sank into my office chair and cried at my desk. And then I did my best to love and care and support her through her time. And I try to watch her to see if there are still times when she needs me. 

And this summer when I heard that my friend's son passed away, I volunteered to cook a dinner for her. I wept the entire time I baked bread and shredded chicken and drove to her house, but not before I messaged her to let her know that if she didn't want to answer the door, that was ok because that was the hardest part for me when people delivered meals...visiting and smiling and thanking people for their kindness. It was appreciated for sure, but another exhausting piece. 

And this school year when a friend had a miscarriage I sobbed in the bathroom at work and had such a hard time and I eventually took dinner to her. (What's up with our need to make food for people that are grieving by the way?! I appreciated it, but stopped it as quick as I could. After week three of casseroles I really just wanted some chicken mcnuggets!) I was so happy to help and I hugged her and hugged her some more and then sobbed some more in her living room. 

There are many other stories it seems. And with each story, with each new story of loss, my heart breaks. So many people are going through too much. And I can't fix it all! I can't make it better for everyone. I am the admin of a Facebook group for young widows. There are over 300 women that are part of this group, in all stages of loss. And it is staggering to me to hear some of their stories. To know that they too have sadness. And I do my best to make sure that I answer everyone  that posts to the best of my ability. Because, like I said before, God's plan and mission for me is much bigger than to just have had it end four years ago when I heard that my husband was dead. That is not how my story ends. My story ends with helping people. On both sides of the grief fence!

So, if you are grieving or in the process of loss or losing someone, I will be here for you if you need me. And, if you are on the other side and are unsure how to help or what to do or what to say, I will be here for you if you need me. Just don't mind me when I cry because I can only be the one to try and fix it because I have been through it. And going through it once usually means that you go through it again as your friends and family are experiencing it. 

Grief sucks! It is not linear like I wish it would be. It is not predictable. It can't just go away, even though many of us would like it to. So, be kind! Be understanding. Just listen. Don't be afraid of us that have experienced loss. Don't rush us through our process, no matter where we are at, whether it's four hours, or four years. Don't assume all is fine just because we are upright and at work and smiling. But also don't assume that we are depressed or continually grieving or hiding our true feelings. It takes a while but the smiles become sincere again. Don't ignore us because you think we need space or you're afraid that you'll upset us, but also don't necessarily hug us out of the blue, especially at work when we have to hold it together. But send us messages letting us know you care. Write us post it notes letting us know you are praying. Send Facebook messages offering help or a shoulder to cry on. Text an occasional "I love you!" Cook us dinner, sometimes...or offer to take us out for McNuggets!

My purpose is greater than my husband dying. That's not how my story ends. I get to be here for others! I get to know more about death and suicide and other topics that I can't bring myself to talk about quite yet, but someday maybe I will. And that may open a whole new realm for me to try and fix. I hope that I get to help others! And I hope the people that I try and help now know how deeply I love them. How deeply I feel their pain and their loss, even though it is so different. We are connected by a horrible common thread. But I prefer to see it not as a horrible common thread, but as a human moment where we get to reach out and help each other heal souls! Thank you, dear friends, for helping me just as much as I hope I am helping you. 

So, tonight, I write this post and I find myself sobbing as I write, thinking about another friend today who has suffered the loss of a husband. And I pray, and post a message of love and prayer on her Facebook page. I grieve for her and her family. And once again, I grieve for myself. But, I look forward to a new tomorrow where I can maybe help. And try to fix things the best I can. And just offer up knowing that I am here...whenever you need me...

The Show Must Go On...

My girls are dancers. Many of you most likely know this from either talking with my girls or me, or seeing my 5,000 posts featuring my Amelia, the Sugar Angel, from this weekend. We spend many hours at the dance school, and many hours at home dancing and practicing and twirling batons and working through steps. We have tap shoes and ballet shoes and hip hop shoes. I should purchase stock in WalMart and Target for all of the money I spend there on tights and leotards. I can make the best ballet bun ever if needed, even though I kinda suck at braids and even pony tails. We have vats of hair gel, boxes of straight pins, hair nets, bun holders, dance skirts...you name it, we've bought it. 

As I said earlier, Amelia performed this weekend in her dance school's production of The Nutcracker. She was a Sugar Angel. She, and 15 other little girls in pretty blue dresses, donned wings and halos to open the Second Act of the performance. This is Amelia's second year of doing The Nutcracker. She loves it and looks forward to it all year!

But, there was something different a couple weeks ago. My big girl is much like me and gets very anxious. She worries about everything and is very much a perfectionist. She wants everything to be perfect. She wants to be involved in everything. She loves dancing and performing and singing and acting. And she is involved in a lot. She is involved in five dance classes at dance school, which keeps us at the school at least three nights a week. With Nutcracker added that was a minimum of two more days of practice. She needed to perfect her part in The Nutcracker. She needs to learn five dances for the Christmas recital coming up, including tap, ballet, baton, hip hop, and modern. She also found out she got the lead role (with two solos) in her class Christmas pageant at school. And it all got to be a little two much a few weeks ago. 

As I was tucking her in to bed one night, she burst into tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she started sobbing, telling me she didn't know what to do. That she was so nervous for everything and she was tired and stressed. As I crawled into bed with her and clung to my little seven-year-old, my heart broke for her. I asked her what I could do to help. She told me she just didn't think she could do it all. That it was too much and she was going to fail and let everyone down. I quickly grabbed her hands and we prayed. I prayed for strength and a calm over her heart. I prayed for God to direct her in what she should do. I prayed for answers for me as her momma, to find the balance between letting her do the things that she wants and the things that she loves, but also preserving her childhood and her sanity. When we were finished we talked about cutting out some activities. Maybe not doing five dances, but rather only picking her favorites. However, I also started in on commitment and that I understood if she didn't want to do ballet or tap anymore, that she didn't have to, but she needed to wait until AFTER Nutcracker was over and recital was over so that she didn't let down her teachers and classmates by not doing her part for the dances she has been practicing in class. She heaved a very big sigh and looked at me and said, "Mommy...I know...the show MUST go on!"

I smiled at her and began to consciously make her bedtime a little bit earlier every night. I made sure that I worked with her on learning her parts for the Candymaker's Wife in her school play and we practiced the dances she wanted to practice. 

As I was getting her bun ready for her last Nutcracker performance today, Amelia wrinkled her nose and said, "Mommy, remember when we talked about cutting something out a while ago? Well, I've thought about it, and I love everything that I do! I love dance! I love singing! I love acting! I don't want to cut anything out! So, really...the show WILL go on I guess!" She giggled. I smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "I'm so proud of you, Amelia! And I will support whatever you want!"

She looked at me and shook her head. "Well, I don't want to quit anything! You can't get anything out of life of you quit!"

I smiled at her again and told her that she was absolutely correct, but that taking care of yourself is also important! Taking time to rest and relax is so important. She said she understood, but that her relaxing was in those classrooms at the dance school. That she loves to feel her body stretch and move to the music. That she loves to watch her baton fly through her fingers. That she loves the other family she has found at her dance school. And I once again told her that I would support her in whatever decision she made. She put her little hand on her hip, motioned for me to continue wrapping her ponytail tight into a bun and once again said, "The show MUST go on!"

And so it is with life. Or at least my life! There are days that it is just too much! Work and housework and kids and IEPs and running errands and driving kids to dance and packing lunches and...too much! There are days that I would like to curl up in bed and just cry! But, the show must go on! If there is any piece to my day that starts falling apart, I have to smile and keep going because there are lots of people counting on me on a daily basis. My students count on me to pull myself out of bed, even if I have a migraine, because they will be eagerly waiting outside my office door for their speech time. My principal counts on me to be at the playground for morning duty so that the children remain safe. My special education team members count on me to get my testing and paperwork completed so that we are not out of compliance. My two little girls count on me to pick them up from dance and get home at a decent time and maybe even remember to take out something for dinner. The show MUST go on!

But there is also that piece about taking care of yourself. That is harder as a mom...as a working mom...as a single working mom. I get through with a lot of help from friends and family. My mom can make a ballet bun with the best of them. She and my dad gladly take the girls so I can enjoy football days with my bestie, or concerts with friends, or out to dinner with coworkers. My amazing babysitters/Godparents to my children/extended family/miracle workers take my kids to school for me, and pick them up and drive them all over the county for dance lessons and speech therapy and counseling. They get there early and stay late and are amazing and oh so important! They help the show to go on!  And I have an entire village of people that love and take care of us! That show up consistently for me and my girls. That cheer us on as our show goes on!  Thank you to all of you! Who push us and encourage us and help us to keep going! In order to get through life, the show MUST go on! Thank you for being a part of our production, for if you are reading this, you are indeed part of the Duncan girls' production! Whether it be support cast, costumes, makeup, refreshments, ushers, script writers...you know which part you play! And if you aren't sure, ask me! I love an opportunity to share what you mean to me and my family!! I hope that one day I can reciprocate and help you with your show! Because your show must go on also! Ask me to fill in wherever you might need me! I would love to help you out with your production...no matter what phase it's in. I'm sure it's nothing a vat of hair gel won't fix!