Kisses from Heaven

"That was the thing. You never get used to it; 

someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, 

accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you

all over again, that shock."

 - Sarah Dessen, "The Truth About Forever"

     Driving in the car alone with my music is a very dangerous thing. Music has always been there when words or people can't be. Somehow, I just feel like something somewhere gets me when I listen to certain songs. The words understand me, the melody hurts with me, music is what I am but what I cannot express. And so, driving in the car alone with my music is a very dangerous thing. It can make me suddenly remember a moment from years ago that made me feel something really deep, or it can bring back all the questions I have in my mind. It can make me laugh or like today, can make me cry for the umteenth time when I was trying really hard not to. And here's why:

     I was listening to my music on shuffle, as usual, when suddenly "Alive" by Jamie Walker came on. I don't expect you to know him or ever have heard the song, but it's attached below. Suddenly, I was crying. Crying really ugly tears for the millionth time this week (and yes, it's only Tuesday). Everything came back; everything and anything. 

      I hate Winter. I hate being cold, I hate the death that Winter brings, I hate snow and ice even (although the snow the first time is pretty). I like ice skating, but I hate Winter. I will be even more honest and say that Christmas and New Years are some of my least favorite holidays. And while we're talking about all the things I hate, I most particularly hate the month of January. For many, it's a month for new starts, new beginnings, but I hate it so much. Everything around me is cold, damp, dormant. I hate having to leave the house bundled up. I hate the wind chill factors. I hate the lack of sunshine. I hate it. But what I hate the most is that for the past three Januaries, I've lost someone close to me. So, every January, I catch the blues. I catch them really deep. And this year, I can't wait until February. 

       My Mommom passed away on Sunday, January 10, 2016. Today feels like the one millionth hour of January 10th and I still can't wake up from this terrible dream. This nightmare, really, that she's gone. I want to wake up but I can't. But then again, I also feel like I'm in some sort of limbo where I keep feeling like she's only gone to Florida for a few months like she planned. But I know I'll wake up from that dream someday, and realize she's gone. She's gone from here forever. 

       I can still hear her voice saying, "Oh hiya," when I walk into the back room. I can still feel her arms snuggle me into her as she tells me she missed me while I think it's only been a few days. There's so much about her that feels so fresh and yet, it's gone. I can't let go of a few things yet, like how the whole day panned out, and I'm not sure I ever be willing to let that go. But I also don't want to let her voice or touch go either. Every time I look at her picture, I start to lose it.

I had to stop writing this blog post because I couldn't get through it. Here I am, three days later trying again.

       I have an amazingly supportive colleague community at the school where I teach. We had an in service day Wednesday and words, any words really, were hard. People let me slid. Thursday the kids came back. I had to be ready for two new classes of students and I was far from ready. But they had energy - first day back energy. My kids were laughing and telling me great adventures of their term break. For about 160 minutes yesterday, I didn't cry. I didn't actually have time to think about anything other than my kids. They are amazing.
       But that morning I had to really get myself ready for the day more emotionally than anything else. I couldn't get out of my funk. One friend and colleague just wrapped her arms around me. Another took my face in her hands and very grandmotherly said, "it's never going to go away, or maybe even easier, but you will be able to live on." Young people usually say, "don't worry, it will get better." But I feel like it never will. And then I listen to the older and wiser who tell me it's okay to feel like it never will get better, it's okay to get angry, it's okay to be a mess. And believe it or not, I haven't tried to hide my pain for once in my life. I'm okay with feeling completely incapacitated by my sadness for a little, as long as it doesn't last forever. I'm okay with it, because I lost my star.

      Mommom was star and a queen. Anyone could look at her pictures and see one of the most beautiful women ever. Her eyes were bright baby blue, she had fair skin and a great smile.  She laughed, she knew how to have a good time, she loved to party, she loved her family and she loved to travel. She's seen so many beautiful places and has met so many beautiful people. She loved so much. Oh she also loved to take pictures and have her picture taken. I inherited that. She loved to write. I got that, too. She was amazing.
      As the oldest (and favorite :P) grandchild, I got to spend 4.5 years of my life with her all to myself. I was spoiled by her. Well, we all were. But I was snuggled and cuddled up until the last time I saw her. I love the story of how she dressed me in every single outfit I got as a gift as a baby and made me model. Don't believe me? There's pictures. I have many fond memories of vacations with her, trips to the movies, even day to day memories of her from visiting so much at her house. From the time she fell through the chair to the 3:30 panic attack she had because guests would be coming at any moment the day of the family reunion. Inside jokes with her, shared interests and lots of smiles and laughs are things I cherished then and cherish even more now that she's gone.
     Mommom always supported me. She came to every concert and show. When I stopped performing, she came with me to support my students at their concerts and shows. Mommom was my number one cheerleader. She made me feel like a million bucks every chance she got. She video taped or made photo books of literally every event of my life. She loved supporting me and my sisters and cousins every chance she could, any way she could.
     
      The night before Mommom passed away, my sister got to visit her and her friends. I will never be more jealous of any moment. I had an eye doctors appointment I honestly thought of just ditching so I could go to Mommom's, too. But my new year's goal was to take better care of myself and stop avoiding adult things. The next morning I got the call that she was in bad shape. Little did I know that I wasn't going to get to talk to her one last time; she was already gone before we got to the hospital. We got to say goodbye, but it wasn't anything like the regular goodbyes Mommom gave. It was nothing like the smuggling and hugging so tight you couldn't breathe and then having to wipe your cheek off from a thousand kisses. It was cold, it was blue much like the month of January.
      The week of planning for her memorial service felt like planning a party. And honestly, that's probably what she would have wanted anyway. Each day I had ups and downs. I'm a goofball sometimes and I use laughter to lighten to mood. So I brought up every funny, hilarious thing she did. Then, of course, there were the moments, by myself, that I would just break down and sob. We went through thousands of pictures and I was made even more grateful that I insisted on taking so many pictures with my grandmother. I could have made a memory board of just selfies with her. The week was also filled with debating whether or not Mary and I would sing at the memorial service. Finally, Thursday night, we went out to the garage and sang for what felt like hours until we came up with something.
      By Friday, I had felt like a million years had gone by. We went to the chapel in the cemetery where her memorial service was going to be held. We set up her pictures, her favorite things, and practiced once again our song. I was supposed to read at the service. I didn't pre-read. I couldn't. So when the memorial service started and I got up to read, I couldn't hold back the tears. In fact, I actually closed my eyes and read half of the reading from memory. I have been to too many funerals. At the end of the service, Mary and I got up to sing. Amazing Grace was what she wanted. We gave her the best we could do.
     It's now a week since we've put my Mommom to rest. It's a week later and I still feel like she'll be back any day now. But then reality hits me again. She's not coming back. I won't hear her voice or see her face except in pictures. And each night I just think about how much I miss her. I wish she would text me or like something on Facebook or call or email me at work and ask me to come for dinner. But she won't. I won't get to hear her snoring from the big easy chair in the living room when I walk through the door and I won't get to visit her in Florida like we had talked about. Of course, she won't get to see my cousins graduate, she won't see Lizzie at her prom, and she won't insist we eat at the Eagle Diner when Mary graduates college. She won't be at any weddings or vow ceremonies. She won't see any great-grandchildren. I hate thinking about that, but I do. But the thing I think about the most is - I wonder if she knew how much I really loved her. I know she knew I loved her, but I hope she knew how much.

     I hate Winter. I hate being cold. I hate January. And while all these kiddos at school are super excited about this blizzard we are getting this weekend, I'm kind of dreading the fact that I need to go get boots for both me and my puppy, milk, eggs and bread today after school with all the crazies. I dreading the cold wind that will make me super dry cheeks hurt even more. I am dreading the sledding adventure that will be me trying to get my car to church on Sunday. I am dreading it all because I really hate Winter. But you know what? I read yesterday that "snowflakes are kisses from Heaven." Well if this storm is what they say it's going to be, that it must be true. Mommom smothered us with kisses every time we arrived and we left the house. I guess this is her smothering us from above. And I guess the jokes on me now, isn't it? Miss you, Mommom. Miss you so much.

One Is The Loneliest Number

"The most terribly poverty is loneliness

and the feeling of being unloved."

- Mother Teresa

      Last night, I was blessed to a. have time in my schedule to get together for dinner with two very close friends, b. be able to afford such luxuries such as eating out and c. having two very close friends with whom I could enjoy such luxuries. Nothing is quite better than being together, laughing together, eating together and sharing stories together for over two hours with people one loves so dearly. As we were talking, my blog came into conversation. I haven't written since right before Thanksgiving. I could blame it on busy-ness, I could blame it on laziness, I could blame it on lack of motivation. I started posts but didn't finish them and eventually deleted them. I thought about what to write, but nothing ever came into fruition. But this particular blog post has been on my mind for a while, I just haven't had any words to express how I feel. However, after last night's discussion, I feel like I should pick up where I left off.
      Loneliness. No one likes to feel lonely. People like to be alone but no one likes to feel lonely. I'm one of those people. I like my "me time." I like taking time away for myself. I like being alone. Well alone with my dog. Being alone gives me time to think, to pray and to recollect myself after a big event or party (I'm an introvert in that sense). In fact some of the best moments for me are when I finally get to curl up under all my blankets and not do anything. I just can think there. Being alone is great...once in a while.
      As much as I like being alone from time to time, sometimes there is too much alone time. Those moments sneak in and suddenly, I'm left feeling so lonely. At school it's easy to fall into this feeling of loneliness. I don't share office space with anyone so unless someone comes in or I go out, I don't necessarily see people. There could easily be days when I don't see more than five people a day, especially when I have my class of two. Of course, that's not always a bad thing, especially on days I'm feeling more anxious or stressed than usual. But sometimes, that loneliness creeps in. Especially after a week of after school activities with only my students and not having time to do much else when I get home. Don't get me wrong, I love my students, but they're not my friends. I'm a teacher for over 13 hours a day sometimes, and that's exhausting.
      In the past year and a half of real world experiences, I've noticed that some friends have gone while others have stayed, and not necessarily the ones I would have expected. There are friends who I was really close with in college that I don't talk to anymore and haven't seen in months except for on social media. Then there are friends who I had a few classes with and now I see all the time. Of course, the moving away from campus plays a part; suddenly I'm not right next door or five minutes away. I guess I always thought that if we were true friends, we would travel distances for one another. And that's proven true in some cases. But I've lost a good number of friends in the past year and half due to distances.
      Another factor is the fact that friends either have full time jobs like me but our schedules are too rigorous to have energy left at the end of the night to socialize OR my friends don't have full time positions and are still trying to keep a high-key social life whereas I can barely keep my eyes awake past 8 pm on a Friday or Saturday night. I can't keep up. So I guess, if order for me to socialize with a person, he or she must be willing to either put up with me driving to their house only to literally Netflix and chill (which means nap) or drive to me and be willing to Netflix and chill. On a school night, that is. Fridays and Saturdays, I'm good up until about 8:00. Wherever I am at that moment, I will start falling asleep. I can't help it, I have a rigorous full time job that lasts longer that 9-5, M-F. I'm tired.
      Now, of course, that doesn't mean I want to change my job. Absolutely not, I love it. And given the choice between socializing and doing my job, I'd choose my job. I love my students, I love my co-workers, I love my ministry. But sometimes, just sometimes, the concept of not having a social life other than with my dog, is disheartening and lonely. It's when I'm snuggled up in my blankets at the end of a long day that I get to thinking: well, I left the house when it was dark today and I didn't get home until it was dark again. I haven't seen my family since dad is already in bed and Lizzie and Mom are busy. Gee when was the last time I talked to someone other than Joe on the phone? And even that it's usually a conversation of yawns and tired conversation that I fall asleep in the middle of. When was the last time I saw so and so? Yeah...it's then that loneliness settles.
     Studies say that winter causes more people to be depressed or feel lonely. I get that. When it's dark, we're more hesitant to go out. When it's dark, we want to go to bed and are tired. When it's dark we tend to not see people for ages. The holidays can make people feel lonely, too. Feeling lonely in a crowded room is the worst. Isn't there anyone at any family party other than my sister who understands that I hate conversing with so many people around; that it makes me anxious? I would rather find a quiet place in the house and have a quiet conversation. But at large parties, finding a quiet room is rare OR once you find that quiet room, you're basically invisible. Seems that way in my experiences anyway. Of course, this leads to insane inside jokes with my sister because we can keep ourselves occupied for hours. So, sometimes it's hard to complain.
     There are many times and places I've experienced loneliness this past month and maybe that's why it's been hard to write. Loneliness creeps in and suddenly you doubt everything - will anyone actually care what I write? Is it worth it? What should I even write? Where are my words? Why can't I use them? So at the end of this self-doubt, I snuggle up, make my puppy love me by bribing him to come upstairs with a bone and watching hours upon hours of Grey's Anatomy. Yes, everyone has had those days. December just seemed to bring a lot of them for me. I thought too much about the pain of losing friends, not dramatically but slowly and surely slipping away (that's the worst kind of losing friends...). I thought too much about how I literally never see the light of day. I thought too much about how I never see people. I thought a lot, probably too much, but that's okay.
      After last night, after spending two and half hours with two beautiful friends, I realized a few things. The friends who wouldn't drive distances for me or even make effort, maybe weren't the best friends for me. The best friends can always pick up where you left off despite long gaps in-between and also might be willing to literally watch movies in-house and order pizza. Sometimes it's okay to be alone but when loneliness starts creeping in, go find those friends. It's okay to want to snuggle in bed after a long day. It really is. And finally, get rid of the negativity that surrounds you on social media a.k.a. people with other full time jobs that somehow still manage to have an exuberant social life that you can neither afford or keep up with :)
       One is the loneliest number, but everyone feels lonely sometimes. We just have to make sure we don't let ourselves get too lonely. Yes, the seasonal changes might be helping that loneliness seem like a giant cloud overhead, but we can do things to help us out! I'm thankful for my friends who, it seems, have finally helped me get out from underneath that cloud of doom. Sometimes all it takes is a two and half hour dinner date with friends to keep you going.