A late night...

  It has been a while since I have been up this late and unable to sleep.  I feel jittery and anxious and I am not clear why.  This Thanksgiving was the first Thanksgiving in 15 years I haven't been with my now ex-husband and his family (they were my family too).  It was strange, but okay.  November 30 marks the 7th anniversary of Bridger's first "big crash", a day when he stopped breathing at home and we spent the next several days and weeks wondering if he would survive, wondering if he would ever open his eyes again.  Normally, this day is ever present in my mind, both leading up to and on the actual day.  But this year, I didn't totally realize what day it was until it was December 1.  I don't know what to think about that.  Both are possibilities of the cause of my current anxious state, but it still doesn't totally make sense.
  I am going on a trip soon, this will be the longest I have been out of town since living with Bridger in Texas for 9 days (I will only be gone for 7 days).  Might this be the cause of some anxiety?  Am I anxious because around this time last year, my heart was coming to terms with what my mind was telling me?  That my marriage was at the end of it's rope?  Maybe the anxiety of the already difficult holidays not having my children, but the thought of being completely alone?
  I know that I am not "alone" alone, but the last 15 years (3 of which we stayed home with our grief) I have spent holidays with my nieces, nephews, brothers and sisters in law.  I loved being an aunt and watching them grow.  Even when it was difficult because of the reminders that my children would never live these moments, it still made me so happy to see my nieces and nephews experience new things.  I love my family on both sides.... so much.  But I did walk away from one side of the family when I walked away from my husband.  I new of sacrifices that I was making by choosing to leave and I didn't think that it would be easy....  there are moments though, when it hurts more.
  It all hurts more sometimes.  Tuesday, I woke up and was having a sad and sentimental morning.  Every song that came on reminded me of my recent past.  "The reason that I can't stay don't have a thing to do with being in love, I understand that loving a man doesn't have to be this tough", I can't get those lyrics out of my mind.  "That ain't no way to go...", "She used to be mine....", song after song, I must have fast forwarded through 20 songs or more and eventually just had to turn the radio off.  I didn't..... I don't want to fall apart....
  I know that I am the one who took the final step, but that doesn't make it any less painful....  I had given everything I had, every ounce of love to this man.... I loved him so intensely for so long... but the pain gone stronger and so did our distance... we dealt with our grief differently.  I wished that I could love him enough to take the pain away, but I couldn't.  Every time I see him, I still cry.  I cry because I see the suffering in his eyes.  I cry because I know that I can't help him.  I cry because now I have contributed to his pain.  I cry because my family of 4 has disintegrated in to one....maybe even less than one...
  I know that when most of us look back ten, twenty, thirty years back and remember what our dreams were then, seldom do they reflect our current lives.  Most of us didn't think we would be where we are now, whether good or bad... we thought it would be different.  Maybe that is where the sadness increases, maybe my expectations were too unrealistic for my reality.  At the time, I didn't think I expected too much.  A house, a job, a husband, children to raise, grandchildren.  Maybe that is the point, any expectation is too much.  We never really know what will happen and to expect leaves room for disappointment.
  I was talking to a friend today about the differences between Bridger's and Finleigh's deaths and my grief with each.  Though Bridger was so fragile (one of his medications, if stopped for more than 2 seconds, he would die), I really expected him to defy the odds.  I had imagined over and over in my mind taking him back to Primary Children's hospital when he was 3 years old and walking him through the halls of the PICU in his little cowboy boots and cowboy hat saying hi to all of his many caregivers who cared for him in his most difficult days.  I truly thought that is what would happen.  So when he died (we were waiting for a heart and lung transplant) I was shocked.  I felt like I had been robbed.  I had this plan, this expectation of how life would be after transplant.  Well my expectations weren't met and the following years took me to a very dark place.
  In contrast, with Finleigh, we felt that coming home on hospice was the right path for her.  I kept having this feeling that she would not be born alive, much less make it home alive.  So when she came out screaming, I was surprised, happily....  Every moment after I was able to receive as the gift it was, instead of an expectation I had.  I knew she would die, I just didn't know when.  Statistically, a baby with her condition unrepaired could live an average of 8 days.... she lived 18.  But as I said before, I didn't expect her to even make it home, so every breath she took after that was an unexpected joy.
  So is this why I am anxious? Sad?  Because I had so many expectations for my life and I feel as though, due to various reasons, they have not been met?  Am I creating my own sadness?  I think that I have improved immensely on not having expectations now, but my past ones still haunt me.... still hurt.
  I don't know....maybe this is just my late night rambling....maybe it is yours too.

Tomorrow (today) is another day and I am excited to live it, to do the best I can to do God's will.... tonight I am just tired, but unable to sleep....
If I will just ask Him to carry me, maybe I can get some rest....

Time has changed things....

I was looking at some of the pictures of my babies tonight and as I saw some of the ones of Bridger in the days before he died, I was taken aback.  A moment that I never wanted to come is finally here.... As I looked at one particular picture, the vision of him I have carried in my mind for the last 6 years and 4 months looks a little different than the photo I saw tonight.  I have pictures of both of them in my home, in my car, on my phone.  How could this be, that my memory is different that what is photographed?
Then, as I began to think a little more about it, I realized that I don't remember how it feels to hold him, the weight of him being in my arms.  He looked so grown up in those last few days of photos.  He was sitting up all on his own, reaching for my camera, shaking his head "no" at me.  I can remember it all, so why do these photos look different?  What else is different?  What am I forgetting?
For those of you who have lost a loved one, you may have experienced a similar feeling.  Part of me is panicking a little, because I fear that I am beginning to lose those precious memories that only I carry.  Memories that no photo or video can replace.  I don't know what to think or how to feel about this....
My body and mind have been used to carrying the weight of losing them and I have grown in strength to carry it, but I feel as though I am wavering in my strength, this is tipping my carefully balanced scale and there isn't anything I can do about it.  I cannot go back and re- memorize each and every part of them.  I cannot hold them in my arms to remember how their bodies felt curled up close to me.

So what now... I don't know.  I didn't expect this.... I feared it would happen, but I thought my mind was stronger than this.  I thought I would be much older before my mind started playing tricks on me.

45 minutes ago I was just getting ready for bed as usual.... Now, I feel like I am covered in a heavy, wet blanket and my muscles are too exhausted to climb out from under it.... Maybe I will feel less worn out in the morning.... Maybe my memory will match the photos tomorrow....

Just be held.....

I heard this song on Sunday before mass and just after mass....

https://youtu.be/tIZitK6_IMQ  (I hope I did this right) 

Just Be Held

By Casting Crowns

Hold it all together
Everybody needs you strong
But life hits you out of nowhere
And barely leaves you holding on

And when you're tired of fighting
Chained by your control
There's freedom in surrender
Lay it down and let it go

So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away
You're not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place
I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
Just be held, just be held

If your eyes are on the storm
You'll wonder if I love you still
But if your eyes are on the cross
You'll know I always have and I always will

And not a tear is wasted
In time, you'll understand
I'm painting beauty with the ashes
Your life is in My hands

So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away
You're not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place
I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
Just be held, just be held

Lift your hands, lift your eyes
In the storm is where you'll find Me
And where you are, I'll hold your heart
I'll hold your heart
Come to Me, find your rest
In the arms of the God who won't let go

So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away
You're not alone, stop holding on and just be held
Your world's not falling apart, it's falling into place
I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held
(Stop holding on and just be held)
Just be held, just be held
Just be held, just be held

   What do you think about this?  The part that meant the most to me was "stop holding on and just be held".  This goes back to one of my previous posts.  When I pray, when I ask for help, am I ready to accept it?  If I am asking Him to take away a problem, will I let it go?

   When I do let go, do I allow Him to hold me? Or do I try to fix things, again?

   I have always been a fixer in my life.  If you have a problem, a concern or need help with something, I am there.... I will fix it.  Even if it doesn't need fixing. If it caused someone pain, I wanted to fix it and take away the pain, the worry, the discomfort.  The trouble with being a fixer though, is that while it is so easy for you to want to help others, it is a challenge to accept much less ask for help.  In order not to be a burden to others, you may not express your needs.

   I always wanted to fix, always wanted to make others happy, worry free.  When my husband and I separated, I had nothing left in me.  I couldn't help, I couldn't fix.  There were times when I literally could not even lift my head off the bed because I had nothing left to give.  I needed to be held....

   I went to see my sister and parents in California and for four days they held me.  I couldn't even make a decision about what to eat, I was empty.....  God gave me the strength to drive to California so that I could be with my family who would just hold me.  No questions, no deep conversations, they just loved me.... they didn't want anything from me, didn't need anything, they were just "there" for me.

  For weeks leading up to these moments and weeks after, I cried everyday.  I didn't understand (and still don't) why this is where my life is supposed to be.  33 years old, divorced with two children who didn't live to their first birthdays.  It still makes me cry.....for so many reasons.

   Back to the song....am I just holding on?  Am I holding on to the pain because it is what I know best?  Am I so stubborn and "independent" that I don't want to be seen as weak?  Do I not think that I deserve to be held?  I am the one that chose to leave, making it my fault.  Is this pain and disorientation my punishment?  These thoughts overwhelm my heart and my mind, sometimes to the point where all I can do is be held...my body, my soul is too worn out to do anything but lay there in His arms.  I used to fight this until I had no strength left.  Now it is welcome, I am so grateful to be able to fall apart, to fall into His arms and to rest.

  It's funny, even now, at 33 years old, it still feels so good to sit on my mom's lap and be held.  She gives me hugs with no expectations, just love...love....

  Have you tried letting go?  Really letting go?  It is terrifying and often difficult, but what a relief....  It is okay to take a break tonight...give it to God...He will happily take it, but you have to let it go...