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OCG

I have a love-hate relationship with food. Mainly I love food, but I hate the fact that I gain weight so easily. I’m definitely an emotional eater, and I mean ANY emotion! If something good happens, I like to go out to dinner to celebrate. If there is a special occasion, it’s usually centered around food. And if I’m sad, a bowl of ice cream might cheer me up, at least until the guilt sets in.

One of my favorite treats is Mickey’s Yogurt. I feel it is healthier than ice cream, as long as you don’t overdo the portions or the toppings. When Cathy and I were walking all of the time and I lost weight, we would allow ourselves yogurt frequently. Our favorite flavor is oatmeal cookie gelato (OCG). I don’t know what it is about it, but Cathy, Camille, and I just love it! We check the Mickey’s Facebook page regularly because it is not always available. When it IS available we have been known to cancel all previously scheduled activities to go get it! If one of us can’t be there, they are usually taunted with pictures like the one below.

I’ve shared this picture before. I took it to send to Camille the night before Patrick died (I also took some home to her) and I like to think of it as the last happy picture before my life changed forever.

I have always wished that I was one of those people who quit eating when under stress. I know that’s not healthy either but at least I wouldn’t add weight gain to whatever stress I am under!

The only time I completely lost my appetite was when Patrick died. Food was no longer important. I’m sure I could have survived for a long period of time without eating but that is not a healthy way to lose weight. And, when you’re under that kind of stress, you need sustenance.

Everyone felt helpless during that time. So many people wanted to help and there wasn’t much anyone could do. That first day I remember Phillip bringing me a Diet Pepsi. I realize it has zero nutritional value but there are worse vices I could have! Matt Lamb stopped by Mickey’s and got me OCG. I was surprised that it was about the only thing I could eat. I’m not sure how long they had it that time but a lot of the teenagers (nephews, nieces, and friends of the girls) found out I liked it so they kept bringing it, sometimes more than once a day! The OCG and the love of the people bringing it, helped keep me going.

As hard as it is to know what to do when there has been a death, it’s actually surprisingly easy to do small things that have a big impact. A lot of that time I was in a fog but I remember the little acts of kindness…the yogurt, the Diet Pepsi, making sure I had water at the celebration of life. I could go on and on but my point is, sometimes it’s the little things that mean the most.

There have been several other times over the last two years when the OCG has arrived at a time when I needed a little cheer. I wish I had written them all down. Suffice it to say, there had to be some divine intervention going on!

Today there was OCG again, it’s as if someone knew this would be a hard week of memories…

PS – I’m definitely sharing this blog with Mickey’s Yogurt in a shameless attempt to get them to make OCG available on a more frequent basis. A girl can try!

Facebook screenshot and extra artwork courtesy of Cathy Lamb.

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Celebrating Patrick

Every year, for his birthday, Patrick liked to take a guys trip. Usually he went with his “only friend” Joe. Matt usually joined them and Gabe did occasionally. Usually they went camping. Some years they went to Shaver Lake. Other years they went to the beach. He just wanted to relax, maybe do some fishing and drink beer.

I was thinking about these trips, wondering if I should have gone… Of course, in hindsight I would go back and take advantage of any opportunities to spend time with him. But I never felt that I was being a bad wife by not going. I’m sure he would have allowed me to go but he never really expected me to. And the truth was, this was his gift to himself, a little break from all his responsibilities.

There is a known tendency, among widows, to idealize, or sanctify their late spouse. I’m sure I do this to some degree but I do try to be real. Patrick was by no means perfect but he was definitely a wonderful husband and father. I’m happy that we took these little breaks from each other. It reminded us of all the time apart early in our relationship and made us appreciate our time together.

Yesterday would have been Patrick’s 51st Birthday. So, he really should have been camping this weekend. I’ve been a little emotional at times this week. At times I will have random thoughts or random anger. I try not to spend too much time on the anger but I admit that I am angry at times. His death was so random and unfair and if I really stop and think about it I am just so angry that it happened. Earlier in the week I was in the drive-thru at Taco Bell and I started thinking about Patrick and getting sad. I looked up and there were yellow flowers. They always make me think of him. 🙂

I like to add funny stories so I’m going to add my niece Shayna’s post. She actually posted this the day of his funeral but reposted it yesterday. I have no idea why he had these but it was classic Patrick!

Last night we had a huge get together and it was really nice to all be there and share our love. In a way, I’m glad that his birthday is a week before the dreaded anniversary of the day he died. We can always celebrate his life on his birthday! We will think of him next week but last night was a happy time! I am so grateful for our family! Here are some pictures!

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Faith of my Mother

Today I interviewed my mom for an assignment on older adult development. I should be writing my paper but I’m trying to wrap my head around all of the old and new information I have now.

I wish I would have had this kind of conversation with her earlier in my life, but I also think that the knowledge I have gained in my education gives me a different level of insight into her history.

My mom is one of the happiest and most loving people I know. Anyone who is Facebook friends with any of her children or grandchildren has probably seen her comment on a post to express her pride and love of them! She loves her family more than anything and is always grateful for any amount of time we spend with her. We were raised in a loving, Christian home and my siblings and I all agree that this made us who we are today.

My parents divorced when my sisters were adults and Denny and I were teenagers. And, of course, this impacted all of us in different ways, but it didn’t define our childhood. We had a very good childhood. My mom was not so lucky.

In his younger days, my maternal grandfather spent a lot of time in bars. I’m assuming this was part of the reason my maternal grandparents divorced when my mom and their two other children together were very young. From that point forward their childhood became chaotic. At that time mothers were usually given custody, so they would live with their mom for a while then she would “run off with a new man” and my mother’s grandma would call her father to tell him to come get the kids. Eventually they would go back to their mom. As a result, she moved so frequently that she had few childhood friends since she was never in one place long enough.

At the age of 9, my mom was raped by her stepfather. Things were very different back then. Evidence was collected in the police station and until future custody was resolved she was placed in juvenile hall in a room with bars and a locked door.

At nine years old.

For three months, three weeks, and three days.

Protective custody.

That was the standard procedure in 1950. They didn’t want anyone to influence the child prior to court proceedings. No one thought about the impact that would have on a nine-year-old.

Grandpa was in Arkansas and it took a while for him to get back to California. Mom wasn’t really sure why it took so long for him to pick her up, but she knew exactly how long it took.

Three months, three weeks, and three days.

She did have some interaction with the other residents and, as you can imagine, most of them were not the victims of crimes. She does remember that a church group came each week and took them to Sunday school. They had fun activities and could win prizes such as a bowl with a goldfish, or dolls. By the time she left she had about ten dolls. She kept them until age 15 when her dad convinced her that she was too old for them and gave them away. I never understood where she developed her love of dolls, that continued into adulthood with a collection of porcelain dolls. The dolls that she bought for each of her granddaughters have a whole new meaning for me now.

She remembers her father attending the hearings so it seems like he probably couldn’t get custody of her until after the hearings. She also remembers seeing her mom outside the courthouse with her husband, the man who raped her. They were walking, holding hands, and eating ice cream cones.

After she left juvenile hall she was able to stay with her dad for the rest of her childhood. She had a loving stepmother who had no biological children and raised them as her own. Her name was Janell and I am named after her. She was, and always will be, my grandma.

I asked my mom how she got through all of this. She said that when she was very young her grandmothers would take them to Sunday school. She remembers asking Jesus into her heart at a church youth group event at a skating rink at age 13 but she feels she was a Christian long before that. And she credits prayer and her faith with getting her through her time in juvenile hall and everything bad that has ever happened to her.

She started going to church on her own from the time she was old enough to go alone and eventually her family started attending, including her uncle, Carl Hatch, who would become a pretty well-known evangelist in Texas.

In her early forties Mom found herself alone again after my parents divorced. This is not a story I can tell except to say that my Mom did not choose to be divorced. And, due to a series of events that happened after that, culminating in a deacon at our church calling to say that Mom should not teach Sunday school anymore, I kind of lost my faith in organized religion. Today I realized how ironic that was. My mom survived all of the trials of her life due to her strong faith, but I lost my faith when someone questioned hers.

I’m still a Christian, a Catholic now. Patrick also had really strong faith and it’s one of the things I admired about him and his family. I didn’t attend mass as often as he did, and I have struggled with it since he died. Recently, Camille and I started going whenever she is home from school and I am trying to be more consistent. Talking to my mom today made me realize I need to try a little harder.

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I miss my “person”

Since losing Patrick I’ve kind of been on a crusade to make grief and mourning a less taboo subject. Talking about a loved one dying seems to help ease the pain. I really believe this. So why do I sometimes feel that I can’t?

There are unwritten rules in our society that tell us we should get over it and move on within some unclear amount of time. I’ve heard that people have actually made comments about this to grieving people. Thankfully no one has ever said anything like that to me but I do it to myself!!!

I have been so obsessed with this whole dating thing and I think it’s been a way to redirect my grief. To be clear, I am not dating to “replace” Patrick. He’s irreplaceable! Any new relationship will be a completely new chapter.

I do think I can replace the intimate connection that I lost. And I’m not talking about sex. What I miss more than anything is having that one person that you can talk to about anything. I have thought about this a lot because I have a lot of friends and family who care about me. My loved ones would do anything to help me and they would love to be able to fill this void. So I want to be clear that this is not something I could get from a parent, sibling, child, or friend.

If I had to, I know I could survive without having this again. I hope I don’t have to, but I do think I could have a good life without it. Many people do. I just prefer not to be alone.

The other thing I have been doing is trying to convince myself and potential partners that I am mostly done grieving. I have this idea that men might think a widow sits around crying a lot that is probably not something they would want to sign up for. It’s such a hard sell!

I think I just need to be me and quit worrying about it. Yes, I lost my husband. Yes, I am sad about it, some days more than others. Most days I still can’t believe he is gone. But I still have fun. I smile, I laugh, I LIVE. I’m just going to focus on that for a while.

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Gone Too Soon đź’”

I have said it so many times. Life is precious. Don’t ever take it for granted. Tell the people you care about how much they mean to you. Often. And if you’re thinking about reaching out to someone, do it!

My current class is Human Growth & Development. During the second week we were studying attachment theory and the importance of infants bonding with their primary caregiver(s). One of our discussion questions talked about children being in daycare and we had to research whether or not it was detrimental for infants to be in daycare.

Every parent struggles with this. As new parents you worry about every little sound your child makes and you want to protect them from the world. The research shows that children can do well in daycare as long as they develop a relationship of love and trust with the caregiver.

Patrick and I were so fortunate to find someone like this. My mother met Jan at church. She and her daughter Kim ran a daycare out of their home. We met with them while I was pregnant and we knew Sierra would be in good hands. At eight weeks old I dropped her off with Nanny and Kimmie and they watched her until she turned four. Camille joined her when she was born and stayed there for 18 months or so.

I spent very little time worrying about the girls being in daycare. I knew that they were not just taken care of, they were loved. Sierra stayed with Nanny and Kimmie the night before Camille was born and they may have even brought her to the hospital to meet her sister.

When we moved Camille to preschool, Dawan offered Kimmie a position as her in home nanny. We were sad to leave but very excited that we would still see Kim. She has been a part of our family since then, over 21 years total!

I remembered all of this as I wrote my discussion post on February 26th. I was so happy getting affirmation that I had been ok to leave them there. I thought to myself that I really should tell them how grateful I was. I definitely planned to do that!

The very next night Dawan texted us to say that Kimmie had a medical emergency and was unable to be revived. She died suddenly at the age of 43. I was in shock that yet another person I know is gone before their time.

Today we went to her Celebration of Life and it was amazing how many people she had touched! She was just one of those happy people that everyone loved. And I know she knew she was appreciated by Dawan and our entire family. My heart is broken for her mom, her sister Suzanne, her dad and her 4-yr-old daughter, Bella, whom she adopted. I know she is in a better place but everyone wishes it didn’t have to be so soon!

So, hug the people you love, do a kind deed, let people know you appreciate them. Life is short.

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Dear newly widowed

I met a new widow yesterday. Our daughters went to school together and I had heard of her husband’s passing. We happened to be in the same place so I introduced myself.

It’s heartbreaking meeting people who have just lost a spouse. I know a bit about the journey they have ahead of them. I also know that there is nothing anyone can do to take away the pain. I gave her a hug and my phone number and it seemed inadequate. Here is what I would have liked to have told her.

Dear newly widowed – I am so very sorry that you are joining this club. None of us want to be here but we try to stick together. I remember when I was in your place. I was in shock and I didn’t think I would ever recover. I really wish that I could offer you some special words of comfort and magically take your pain away. I won’t pretend to have that kind of power.

Most people will not know what to do for you. Some of them will unintentionally add to your pain. I truly believe that most people have good intentions but they just don’t know what to do. When you think about it, it’s kind of surprising that death is still such a strange and uncomfortable topic. We will all die someday but it is sad to think about losing someone. Most people like to think you just say goodbye and move on. Unlike those people, you and I know what it is like to lose the person closest to you, the one who knew you like no other.

I’m going to be honest, your journey is going to get harder before it gets better. I wish that weren’t the case but you are in shock right now. When that wears off you will feel your loss even more. This is normal. Give yourself a break and just allow some time to grieve. Don’t let anyone give you rules or a timeframe. We all handle it differently and there is no right or wrong way to grieve.

I do believe that our loved ones would want us to move forward and live the best life possible. It’s hard to imagine doing that without them but I’m trying to make my life meaningful as a tribute to the love we shared. You will find what works for you.

I can’t promise that the pain will go away but, for me at least, it has become more bearable. I still think of him everyday but it’s usually a happy thought.

Remember that you are never alone. If you don’t have family or close friends there are a variety of grief groups as well as online support groups and a lot of people who understand.

I’m so very sorry that we are meeting under these conditions but I promise to be here if you ever need me.

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I’m in awe of Sierra!!!!!

Patrick loved both of his girls dearly and he had unique relationships with each. The last few days I have been reminded of how proud he was of Sierra.

Sierra. My firstborn. Beautiful. Strong-willed yet loving. Confident. Smart. Witty. She has been a bit more of a challenge to parent, not because she is a bad kid, we just butt heads at times.

Sierra had a special relationship with Patrick. They loved each other dearly. They would have heated arguments about a variety of things. He knew which buttons to push and on more than one occasion she ended up going to her room in tears when he pushed a little too far. And he tested this frequently. They didn’t always see eye to eye but as she got older i think they enjoyed their debates.

He worried about her when she went to college in Long Beach. She frequently called with a variety of car and apartment issues and at one point he was convinced that she needed to just come home. I knew that she would be fine. She tended to react strongly to problems but she always worked through them.

Two years ago today, Sierra got a ride home with her Aunt Denise and surprised us for a weekend visit. I screamed when I opened the door! Patrick had been experiencing a lot of challenges at work since he became the acting Inpatient Rehab Supervisor and it had been a rough week. He was SO happy to see her! They stayed up late talking and when he came to bed he told me that having her come home was exactly what he needed. He was so very happy and proud of her.

Sierra had been telling us she was graduating in three years. We weren’t sure whether or not this was a pipe dream or actually possible. She had not been a straight A student in high school but she was always a really good student and had a lot of AP classes. Patrick and i talked about how amazing it would be if she were actually able to pull this off!

When Patrick was killed, Sierra was in Long Beach. Fortunately Denise was only 1 1/2 hours away. She called Sierra and told her something had happened at home, and to pack a bag and be ready to be picked up. Sierra did as she asked and then waited for her to arrive. She didn’t call or text anyone. I asked her about this recently and she told me that she didn’t really want to know what it was until she was actually with Denise. I think it was a very wise decision.

We cried together as I told her over the phone. Then she came home, moved into my room for a while, and we helped each other through the next few months. She was able to take incomplete grades for that semester and was given a year to make them up. When she returned to school in the fall, I just wanted her to be okay and finish one thing at a time. I assumed the 3 year plan was no longer possible.

She exceeded all of our expectations, making up her classes and sticking to the 3 year plan. She graduated with magna cum laude honors last May. I encouraged her to take a year off to study for and take the LSAT, and apply for law school. This also meant that I had another year of not being alone!

In December, she retook the LSAT and improved her score. At the end of January she submitted her first applications. I assumed it would take a while to hear back but on Friday she walked out of her room with a big grin on her face and told me she had been accepted to Southwestern with a decent size scholarship! She cautioned me that she didn’t want to get too excited because there were others to hear from and she had a few applications left. She didn’t want to make a decision until she knew all of her options. I couldn’t help it though, I sat there and imagined what it would be like to be sharing this moment with Patrick and tears poured down my face. I am SO proud of her and I can just picture the huge grin that would be on his face.

Yesterday she checked the mail and there was an admissions packet from McGeorge, UOP’s law school. UOP is Patrick’s alma mater! Inside there was a letter telling her she had been selected as an Anthony M. Kennedy fellow, an honor that includes a FULL tuition scholarship!!!!! Again the tears flowed! Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine she would get this kind of scholarship! Sierra has worked hard and overcome so much. Her dad would be so proud of her! I can’t wait for her to hear from the other schools and make her final decision but WOW, she already has so many options!!! I feel like there is nothing she can’t do! I’m just going to sit back and be in awe of her for a while!

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He kept things running

I am finally free from the boot! Now I am learning to use my foot again. I have to keep reminding myself that it is okay to walk normally. I declined physical therapy, for now at least. Basically I just need to use it and exercise. But, I miss my in-house physical therapist. đź’”

I realize more and more all of the little things I took for granted. I have done some silly things lately. If he were around I can imagine him telling these stories at work. I would expect him to. Silly mistakes were fair game in this house!

The Sprinklers – “Danell bought the “smart” sprinkler timer. If it’s so smart, why didn’t it know she accidentally turned it off in October and didn’t water the lawn for two months?”

The Thermostat – “If it’s so “smart” why does it need batteries?” Batteries died and I froze for two days before figuring it out!

The Air Filters – I can’t think of a joke he would make about this but I’m sure he would think of one! I was so happy the first time I changed them because he had a new set in the garage, AND I took a picture of them so I would know what to buy the next time. The date stamp says this was in July of 2016. I didn’t think about them again until last week when my sister was helping my mom change hers. Air filters? Oh yeah, that’s a thing! Oops!

Today I finally put all of the Christmas stuff away. It is all stored in the Harry Potter room under the stairs that he made by cutting a door in the wall. Last year I carefully fit it in while humming the Tetris music. If I ever complained about the dishwasher being too full or no room in a cabinet he would remind me that I loved Tetris and he would start humming the song. I usually didn’t laugh… I laugh now though and he would be proud of how I fit everything into that closet, especially since some of the boxes need to be held up while you shove other ones beneath them. This is not easy since the door is about 3 feet tall! I had to wait until the boot was off to finish this for obvious reasons.

I also finished organizing at least part of the garage so I could reinstall the fence system he designed to keep Aggie from running out when the door opened. I’ve been meaning to do it for months so Maisie could use the dog doors. It made me smile putting it up, knowing he had created it.

And I finally took down the work boots and shirt that hung just inside the door. The work boots are worn and probably need to be thrown out. The shirt I will probably save. So many memories of my big, strong husband wearing it while he took care of the yard and so many other things.

Life gets easier as time goes by. I’m trying to carry on like he would want me to. But I have a newfound appreciation for all he did. And it makes me miss him even more. He was one of a kind!

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My heart is a little broken

I have never been one to put personal drama on Facebook so it’s kind of ironic that my blog gets so personal. I stand behind my commitment to keep this raw and real so here goes… my heart has been broken. I realize it was pretty fragile to begin with and that I am a little dramatic, but right now there’s a new scar.

I’m sure this probably won’t be the last time my heart is broken either. And, to be fair, it wasn’t anything major or dramatic. I’m not even 100% sure that it is completely over. This uncertainty makes me feel like a teenager, but dating in 2018 is very hard to grasp. It can be very impersonal at times and I feel like I am not very good at it.

I’ve mentioned that every dating setback kind of opens up a wound for me. This isn’t really fair to anyone I’m dating but it’s part of my baggage. I’m alone because I was widowed. When things don’t work out with someone I’m dating, I am always reminded that I wouldn’t be going through this if THAT had not happened.

I also tend to question whether I should even hope to be lucky in love again. I experienced great love. Do you get that more than once?

I’ve always been a hopeless romantic and I still am. And, just like I want to repay the acts of kindness that were done for me, it makes me happy that I might be able to give another guy the opportunity to experience the love that I did. I think I am pretty good at relationships. Most recent guy might disagree but he never really got to experience that. I think I could make the right guy very, very happy.

I even question how I react to difficult dating situations because, if I feel I am experiencing hurt or rejection, I start getting behind my protective barriers that got me through losing Patrick. This experience is allowing me to learn a lot about myself and hopefully I won’t make the same mistakes again.

Part of me just wants to burrow under the covers in my bed and live the rest of my life with the happy memories of my marriage. But that’s not really living, is it? So, I will put myself out there again, be a little vulnerable and see what happens. As I always say, I’ve already experienced the worst thing that could happen to me so what could it hurt?

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Cherish

Last year I started a tradition of choosing a word for the year. For 2017 I chose patience. I think it was a really good word to choose and it was applicable to a lot of different parts of my life. A few times it reminded me to slow down and not rush into things. But I still need more patience so I may need to work on that one for the rest of my life! For 2018 I wanted a clean slate.

I thought it would take a lot of time to choose a word. I set aside some time to think about it and the word cherish just came to me within a few minutes. I think I’ve used this in my blog previously but not as my word of the year. I like that it has several meanings and a lot of synonyms!

Cherish means to protect and care for (someone) lovingly. I especially like this word because it makes me think of how Patrick cared for the girls and I. Anytime I drove somewhere without him he would tell me to “drive safe” because I was “precious cargo”. When we became parents he expanded this to include the girls. I also used this word to explain to one of my daughters that I hoped for her to find a man who would cherish her because she deserved nothing less.

Cherish also means to hold (something) dear. This makes me think of all the memories and traditions associated with Patrick. I will always cherish them!

The last definition I found is to keep (a hope or ambition) in one’s mind. This one reminds me of the goals and plans that I have for my life and the importance of fulfilling them.

For 2018 I want to remember to cherish everything in my life. Although I have experienced a profound loss I also have a lot to be grateful for and I want to cherish that. If I am cherishing life I feel that I am acknowledging that it is precious and I need to enjoy every bit of it, including everyone who is part of my life.

I also want to be cherished. This may seem like a no-brainer. However, when you are alone and lonely, it’s not always the first thing you think of. I know I am cherished by friends and family. I have felt the constant love surrounding me since that awful day last year. But I am also beginning to realize that this will be one of the qualities I look for as I date. I want to find someone that I cherish who also cherishes me. I realize that it will be very easy for me to settle for less than that and I want to remember that it’s important that I don’t.

Finally, I want to cherish who I am and what I do in my life. I need to have a meaningful life! I’m still thinking about my Village of Support idea but the timing hasn’t been right for me. So I will focus on other things I can do.

I like picking a word of the year because it will remind me to check in with my goals regularly. Feel free to share your “word of the year” in the comments!