Had dinner with a friend this evening and she brought up a conversation she just recently had with some folks.  She told me that the other night after a GA meeting, several people were chatting about a member and his son who just died.  The man in his 80's, the son who died in his 60's.    My friend told the others that there really is nothing to say to the man other than "I'm sorry" and that one should not carry on about how his son is now in a better place, lived a good life or is no longer in pain. 

I'm thinking ... Good for her.  Maybe she gets it.

Then she tells me that Harry (another member, in his 60's, has a son who committed suicide several years ago) said that it's just awful and that people avoid you like the plague.  That it's very lonely and isolating.  She responded to his statement with "have you ever thought that maybe you are the one who did the isolating?  As compulsive gamblers, we are loners by nature and like to isolate.  Maybe it's you that avoided people.  Or gave off a vibe that you wanted to be left alone."

I don't think words can really convey the tone of how she said it.  It sounded as if she was blaming him for people avoiding him.

And that's when I realized ... Wow, she really doesn't get it.  I guess no one ever really does unless they lived it.

She kept going on and on about it.  Perhaps because I wasn't saying anything?  Finally, I did say, "I'm sure it was hard for him.  He's what?  In his 60's?  He and his wife probably lost friends that they had had for over thirty years.  It's like another loss."  Yet, she still missed the point and kept harping on how he should have reached out and the fact people don't know what to say and they mean well and blah, blah, blah. 

The whole thing has me agitated.  And I wish I had known this had happened so I could have told him tonight when I saw him that she's wrong.  So, so wrong!   The worst thing in the world happened to this man and no way, no how, was it his responsibility to reach out to people when he probably couldn't breathe right.

It just makes me sad.  For so many reasons.


Oh yeah, she also said to me tonight that she doesn't think he and his wife have really dealt with the loss of their son.  And it's been years, you know.

 AAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!  That's what I wanted to scream.  Instead, I said that I'm sure they haven't.

Ah well.  Tears.

Laine

Happy New Year

I obviously have not posted in some time. I began this blog for myself and for whatever reason I have not followed through.  My new year's resolution is to make a post at least monthly.  Even if it is brief (such as this one).

Happy new year. Hope it's a gentle one!

A day in the life

I had a nice little post in my head that I wanted to write.  About the pity party I've been having the last couple of days and about how I feel I'm a bit frazzled.  I was going to share the past two days of my life with you.  By breaking it down with time slots and everything.  Just a boring, frazzled day as a mother of three living kids. 

I planned to share snippets of my day which has led me to my hatred for that whiny, bratty bald-headed 4 year old kid from Canada.  Also known as C.aill.ou.  Who my daughter LOVES but tends to be just a wee-bit bratty and whiny after she watches it (which a friend mentioned that's how son acts so she has banned it from her house.  As I should, too, I know, I know.)  And he's always doing such wonderful 'projects' that my daughter thinks we should do, too.  Such as painting furniture which was yesterday's fun project.    I wanted to share the fun snippets that potty-training my daughter has given me.  Such as having to rewash the clothes I've just put in the dryer because I see little pellets of poop on the washing machine walls (my dh obviously doesn't know to rinse that out). 

And that my baby boy still doesn't sleep through the night.  At all.  And my 11 yr old didn't go to camp for the month of July so he's bored half the time.  And seems to act like a 3yr old half the time.  He is taking swimming lessons again.  Which have been very torturous for all involved.  But I think this nazi lady will get him over his fear and have him swimming happily soon.  I had to bring him today because my dh was running late (which I was informed about 5 minutes before we had to head out) and my son walks out with no shoes because he said "he didn't need them."  Even though I had told him that we'd go to the store after his lesson to get that new game he wanted.  

And then the stress I'm feeling about going on vacation in a few weeks.  With my sisters and their families and my aunt and hers.  And how my aunt is very similar to the Contessa (from tv's hswives of NYC) and how she stresses me the fuck out.  I could do several posts on her and her antics.

Well, I ended up sharing more than I thought I would on the day in the life of me.  Not as much as what was rolling around in my head because I made the mistake of going on fb before I came to post.  And this is what I found... http://www.nola.com/crime/index.ssf/2011/07/4_killed_in_kenner_shooting.html

I'm not sure if the link will work.  I have yet to figure out how to do that.  The article is about a 29 yr old woman and her three children (ages 12 yrs, 18 mos, and 6mos) who were found shot and killed in the same bed in their home this evening.  A possible murder-suicide.  The father/husband found them when he came home from work.

So that certainly puts things in perspective, doesn't it.   My heart hurts to hear this.

Ann - My mother

One year ago, my mother died.  While visiting my sister and her family in Dallas last year, my mother collapsed while they were bowling.  She was rushed to the hospital.  That was on Friday.  That evening, my younger sister and my two aunts flew to Dallas.  My other sister flew in the next day.  My mother died of a brain aneurysm bursting.  She basically died that Friday but was kept alive via machines until Saturday afternoon.  She was able to donate her liver.  She was 65.

My mother struggled the last ten years of her life.  A part of her died when my daddy did 11 years ago and it seems just shit upon shit happened since.  Her house was destroyed in Katrina and her grandson was still born; just to name a couple.  She was also a compulsive gambler and unfortunately, never did stay in recovery.   She didn't have a car and often her phone was disconnected.  Sometimes, a couple of weeks would go by until I heard from her.  Or I would drive to her condo to make sure she was okay.  She would sometimes sleep at my house on the weekends to do her laundry and to watch my television (she didn't have cable).  She usually watched the Saints games at my house.  She loved to cook so she often made us a good meal while she was visiting.  She was a teacher and was still working.   She truly loved teaching.

She was my mom.  Ann, I miss you.  I keep thinking that I need to drive by your condo to check on you.  And then I remember.  You're not MIA, you're not here anymore.  I thought Blake's death prepared me for this.  But I was wrong.

   

Around Christmas, two of my sisters and I went to lunch.  We were talking about cousins in the family getting pregnant or trying to get pregnant.  Or rather they were.  Those are not conversations that I usually participate.  One of them said my cousin (who is due next month) was having trouble getting pg and was on clo.mid.  I said I had no idea.  And my younger sister said she had asked her when she was gonna start having kids.  I then said that I don't ask those kind of questions.  That even though they seem like innocent questions, they really aren't.  They are really personal and invasive.  Something as simple as "How many children do you have?" is not so simple to me.  I still stumble on how to answer that.  

And then my oldest sister said, "You can say, 'I have four kids, but one of them lives with his grandparents."

It sounds morbid or mean, but at the time it really was funny.  And all I could do was laugh.  As I imagined people's reactions if I did say that.  

So, Ann, I hope you and Daddy are taking care of my baby.  Please, I hope so.  I hope that is the case.  Love and miss the three of you.

Laine

complacency and forgiveness

I attend 12step meetings and in those meetings, we read a daily meditation book.  Thursday, the reflection was: Complacency is my enemy, easy to recognize in others but difficult to identify and accept in myself. Complacency simply means being sure we're right - taking it for granted that we couldn't possibly be wrong. It means, moreover, judging others by what we think is right. It blocks out understanding and kindness, and seems to justify qualities in ourselves that we'd find wholly intolerable in others.

I had never thought of the definition of complacency as such.  That's a word thrown around in meetings often and I've always thought of the meaning more like laziness or not putting forth effort.  So of course I had to search the web for the definition.  And this is what I found. 

1.   A feeling of contentment or self-satisfaction, especially when coupled with an unawareness of danger, trouble, or controversy. 

2.  A feeling of calm satisfaction with your own abilities or situation that prevents you from trying harder.

So it's giving me much to ponder.  I definitely have an issue with "complacency".  I have a very difficult time thinking I could possibly be wrong.  I am very judgmental which leads to a sense of smugness.  

Before the meeting, I met with a friend so that we could "chat".  This is a person who, if asked six months ago, I would have called my closest friend.  In the last six months, a whole bunch of shit has happened which would take me forever and a day to write about here.  I'll give you a brief rundown.  She had a very bad breakup two years ago ending a ten year relationship and she has been very depressed about it for the past two years.  She decided she was going to start 2011 with a new positive attitude and start dating again and stop letting negativity in her life and stop letting other people drag her down.  Meanwhile, I had a baby in December, quit my job, took my three year old out of daycare and became a sahm.  I was majorly sleep deprived, my husband was (is?) an idiot and I felt way overwhelmed, all alone, anxious and depressed; basically the poster child for negativity.  While she was partying and dating again, I was at home freaking out.  Looking back, I believe I was probably suffering from post partum depression.  But I felt abandoned by her and thought it was because she didn't want to deal with my problems and 'negativity'.  She then broke her foot in March and from our discussion the other night, she feels I abandoned her in her time of need.  

So it comes down to grown women acting like teenagers again and not communicating with each other.  Her feelings are/were hurt and mine are too.  We talked a little about it and each apologized and decided to start fresh from here.  

Which lies the problem.  I can't seem to let it go.  She had no idea that I felt abandoned (I sound like a child, I know) in January and February.  I told her the other night and she was surprised and kind of shrugged it off.  Okay, she did apologize but she had no idea what I was talking about.  She thinks the problem started in March after she broke her foot.  I think she only noticed that I wasn't around in March (and let's not forget that my dead son's birthday is in March which sends me reeling every frickin' year to begin with and I'm not completely sane) was that she couldn't drive and so she wasn't going out and partying so much anymore and that was when she noticed that tried and true Laine wasn't around.  See?  I'm still trying to defend myself here and prove that I'm 'right' even though we supposed to have let bygones be bygones and start anew. 

Which leads me to the meditation from Wednesday; which I read Thursday night during the meeting break.  The minute we think about a twisted or broken relationship with another person, our emotions go on the defensive. To avoid looking at the wrongs we've done another, we resentfully focus on the wrong he or she has done us. With a sense of triumph, we seize upon his or her slightest misbehavior as the perfect excuse for minimizing or forgetting our own. We have to remember that we're not the only ones plagued by sick emotions. Often, we're really dealing with fellow sufferers, including those whose woes we've increased.

The only thing I can respond to that little ditty is "Fuck me".  

But I don't know how to let it go.  How to completely forgive her.  I miss her but now the trust has been broken and the friendship will never be the same.  And I'm pissed and I'm hurt and I'm sad.  She was one of the chosen few who 'got it'.  Or at least, tried to 'get it' when it came to Blake.  And now I feel I don't want to share that part of me with her anymore.  I don't know.  I don't know where I'm going with this post.  It's just all jumbled in my head and I thought I could get some perspective if I wrote it out.  But I'm not.  It's just making me sad.

I want to release it.  The anger and hurt that I feel.  I've been upset about this for months and I finally took a step to try to mend it the other night.  And now I'm thinking maybe it was too soon because I can't let it go.  I want to forgive her.  I want to admit my wrongdoing in this.  But I can't seem to get past the feeling that I'm right and she's wrong.

Any words of wisdom out there?  How does one forgive?  How do you forgive someone when that person doesn't really think they did anything wrong?

Missing Blake always,

Laine

Competition in motherhood - swimming lessons

My son doesn't know how to swim.  He's 11.  Which basically makes me a crap mom.  As a toddler, he loved the water.  Thinking I was doing the right thing, I put him in swimming lessons when he was 2 or maybe 3 years old.  I believe it was traumatic for him because he rarely wanted to get in the water after that summer.  I figured he'd grow out of it and as he got older and saw how much fun his friends had in the water that he'd want to do it.  Well, he never did.

Three years ago, I put him in swimming lessons again.  To no avail.  He knew nothing more and still wanted no part of getting in a pool after that week than he did on day one.  This summer, I figured I'd force him in swimming lessons again.  Maybe with someone older this time who did it at her home. The teacher 3 years ago was a young girl just starting college who did it at a club.  Maybe that would make a difference.

He goes to Florida on vacation with my aunt and her family every summer.  While they were there early this month, they talked about him trying swimming lessons again with the person that my cousin had sent her two boys.  The cousin with the almost 4 year old (4months younger than Blake should be) and a 2 yr. old.  My son told me he was willing to go to this person since Chris (the almost 4yr. old) can swim really well.

I was thrilled!  He was willing.  My aunt would pay for it.  He'd finally be able to swim confidently.  The solution I've been waiting for!

Weeks had passed and nothing had been done about the lessons.  So when I saw my cousin this week, I asked her about it.  She said she had just forgotten since she was in a whirlwind working on her sister's shower (see previous post) and that she'd call the girl the next day.  I asked her for more info like the price, how she liked it, about the girl and the location.  It turns out that it is the same person that my son went to 3 years ago.

My heart just sank.  Just another moment in my life where things just seem to turn to shit.  Yeah, I know I'm being melodramatic.  But, really?  I said "Oh well, never mind.  This has me so bummed out.  I can't believe it's the same person.  I really had high hopes."  She said, "Really?  You're sure it's the same person.  Out at such-and-such club?"  I said "Yeah, I sent him three years ago.  I remember because Kasey was a month old and we sat there and sweated our butts off the entire time."

And here's the kicker.  Since there always seems to be one.  She continued to carry on about how much her boys loved it and that Chris swims like a fish and her 2 yr. old is so comfortable in the water and how great the girl is and how she did it at the beginning of the summer so the pool wasn't very crowded and how the place is kind of far but it was definitely worth it and how they went every day for a week and how much it was and again how great of a swimmer Chris is and how much fun he had in Florida and how important she felt it was for them to learn how to swim at this age so they could enjoy the water and how they can swim so fabulously and on an on.

And the way I read this is her saying "I'm better than you because my boys can swim and you suck."

Because there's always a competition in parenthood.  I figure next time (cuz there will be a next time), I'll simply tell her, "I don't think you realize what you're doing.  You don't need to remind me how much better of a mother you are.  It's not a competition.  But you win.  You've won already.  In the only competition that matters.  Your 4 year old is alive and mine is dead.  So you are the better mother just on that point alone.  So just shut the fuck up!"

Do you think that would work?

Missing Blake always,

Laine

Goddaughter's baby shower

My goddaughter and cousin is pregnant with her first child.  The baby shower was this past weekend.  And yes, I went.  Which is a first for me.  Well, actually, the second.  I went to my sister's last year but only stayed an hour.  I had to leave before the gifts were opened.

After Blake died, I swore I would never go to another baby shower for as long as I lived except for my own daughter or daughter-in-law.  I guess this is a positive step?

I still think they are ridiculous in the sense that everyone just assumes everything will be hunky-dory.  It was another cruelty having to return all those gifts or give them away.  I sobbed in Bab.ies R U.s as I returned stuff and dared them to give me a hard time.  I was itching for a fight that day.  I remember the moment so clearly.  How I felt so clearly.  They were nice and didn't even ask why I was returning the stuff.

The thing that really got me about my cousin's shower was that almost everyone just assumed I was attending.  Even the idiot man I married.  I debated with myself for a couple of days and had a big sob fest and pity party for myself.  In the end, I decided to go.  Maybe to pretend to be normal for a change.  Maybe because I thought she'd give a shit.  Maybe because I knew I could leave at anytime.  Maybe because I really had nothing better to do and I'd be fretting over it anyway.  I don't know but I did go and it really was fine.  My aunt's house is set up that I could go in another room or outside if I wanted and not look as though I was hiding out.  But it wasn't very stressful or emotional.  The actual shower.  The days leading up to it were the bitch.

That morning, my little sister called to ask if I was going.  And maybe that made it easier.  That someone acknowledged my feelings.

The shower was lovely.  Not that this means I'm jumping to go to all of them in the future and that I'm cured of the baby shower gris-gris.   But I don't have to decide that today. 

And my sweet, sweet goddaughter told me as she hugged me hello, "It means so much to me that you decided to come."  So, I guess she did give a shit after all.  The tear-jerker in that statement is "decided"; not that she was glad that I was just there but that I made a choice to do so.

So maybe not everyone is always so clueless as I think. 

Laine