The Best

 I have the best mini Valentine's any Mama and Wifey could ask for!

Hubby's grandfather passed away and originally we thought we were going to have to leave for St. Louis last weekend, which would have meant the kiddos would miss their school Valentine's parties.  Certainly not the end of the world -- but to our children, they were heartbroken.

Well, the service is not until the end of this week, so we were SO happy that they were able to attend the school parties with their friends and then leave for St. Louis later that same day.

18 Years

There are so many things I didn’t know about losing someone you love. I’m sure the knowledge I didn’t know has filled many books that I never read.

But today, I’m focused on one thing that I didn’t know.

I didn’t know that when a loved one dies, a part of your life freezes in time. A part of your life can never go on because the part of your life that had that person in it has stopped. Your life goes on but they do not and thus the part of your life with them is frozen in time forever.

I was 18 years old when my sister died and today marks 18 years since she died. In a few short months I will have lived more days on this earth without her than I did with her.

Last night, as I was mentally preparing for today, I found myself in my basement going through stacks of old pictures from high school. I wasn’t sifting through them sentimentally, but rather looking at myself at that age -- looking into the face of myself at 18 and studying the only sister that my sister, Tracey, knew.

My sister, Tracey, has not been here for 18 years so the only person she knew me to be was the growing up I did between birth and age 18. She watched me grow through childhood, as a kid, in awkward puberty, and in high school.  That was it.  That was all the growing I did in our relationship.  She saw me fall in puppy love with my high school boyfriend, she watched me excel in high school, she watched me blossom with a group of close friends, she watched me share musical talents and play on athletic teams, she watched me gain acceptance to Washington and Lee University but she would never see me leave for my freshman year, she saw me leave for my high school prom, and she saw me leave for my high school graduation.

There were no last pictures taken with my sister. As I was sifting through, I saw pictures of prom, graduation, of the graduation after party that the school put on for the Seniors, and then pictures of the graduation open house my parents threw for me.  My sister was alive for my graduation, although she was too ill to attend... but she died before my graduation open house.

I guess when she was lying in a hospice bed dying in our family room I never thought to snap a selfie with her. People just didn’t often take selfie’s as often back in the day. You had to awkwardly hold a camera out in front of you and your friend, smile, and I hope that you captured your own head and the other person's head in the frame. You wouldn’t know if you did until you finished that roll of film, took it to get developed, and got the prints back.

I’m sure my sister was probably very sensitive about her appearance as she neared the end of her life. I don’t remember anything to that effect, but I’m sure I wouldn’t want a lot of pictures taken if I had been in her shoes.

Sometimes I think it’s so easy to just think about the milestones and experiences she missed in my life -- my college years, my graduate school years, my single years in Colorado, my courtship with my husband, my engagement, my wedding, my marriage, my entrance into motherhood, and her three nieces and two nephews – my five children who she never met.  She also never met my cat or my dog... and there is an above average chance that she would have liked both my dog and my cat better than any of my children.

But the truth is when I look back, it looks like another person that she had as her sister. I was such a different person at age 18 than I have become in the past 18 years.

And yet, in ever picture of myself with my sister, I am frozen at the age of 18 or younger.  I recognize her, but I am not the same.  That is the life before grief.  Losing her was possibly the most influential factor of my young life.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, 

“I cannot remember the books I've read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.”

 My sister and I were not especially close.  We did our best given the huge age gap between us – practically different generations. Yet her life, and her death, have significantly shaped me.

I miss you dearly, Trace. I wish it could’ve been different. I look forward to your learning who I am and my learning so much more about you, in heaven.

Talking to Tracey (Lee)

My sister, Tracey (Lee), (not to be confused with my daughter, Tracey Ann, died in June of 2002 -- so 13+ years ago.

These days I do not actively grieve the loss of her or actively mourn her absence in my life... I did for a very long time, but time does provide the ability to carry on with life -- never to forget, never to stop missing... but to carry on without the one you love as best as possible.

That being said, there are now very distinct seasons in my life where I keenly miss her, and they always surprise me.

The last time I really keenly missed my sister was in the weeks leading up to my wedding.  I really needed her help -- not just with details of my wedding but helping me manage my family in all the excitement -- something only a sister would understand and be able to do in that sort of situation.

I missed Tracey when I was pregnant with Tracey Ann... but it was more general -- I missed that my child was not going to know his or her Aunt Tracey.  My sister, Tracey, never had children so I never found myself wanting to hear her wisdom or share her experience.

With this pregnancy with twins, however, I find myself seriously missing her and really wanting to talk to her.

I am physically able to do less and less every day -- and it is driving me crazy.  My mother-in-law is here right now taking care of things while Hubby is hunting, and my parents will arrive next week to help us from now for the duration of my pregnancy and weeks after the twins arrive.  They could be here three months or longer.

The last time my parents left home to live with a child indefinitely because they were needed was when my sister was diagnosed with cancer in January of 2000.  They went to Minneapolis (where my sister lived) in January and they essentially did not come home until May.

Tracey loved animals and had an absolute zoo at the time to the tune of one dog, two cats, and 8 or 9 exotic birds.  As Tracey's focus changed to fighting for her life and resting between doctors appointments, hospital stays, and bouts with chemotherapy and radiation... my parents lived at her home doing anything and everything that needed to be done.  

My dad did medical research, spent hours consulting with countless doctors, and offered medical advice while my mom took care of all of Tracey's animals and handled all of the day-to-day household chores.

I had never really thought about it before, but it must have driven Tracey crazy to have been in that situation.

Here she was 37 years old, and yes, I'm sure she was completely grateful for everything my parents were doing... but in addition to feeling physically lousy, and having no energy, she was living with her dad and his wife while watching them do all the household chores she usually did... and, if I know Tracey, she did a certain way.

I am overjoyed that my parents are coming to help, and I KNOW I cannot get through these upcoming weeks of pregnancy without them... but I'm also a little apprehensive about living with my parents again for three or more months.  That is a long time.

I really want to talk to Tracey about this.  It is one thing to spend three months with my parents when I am myself and can run my own house, and go out to the grocery store, and take Tracey Ann out for walks... but it is another story to know that there is less and less I can do every day and my mom and dad will be taking over my household duties while I sit around and watch them.

I really want to hear what my sister has to say about this.  I want to laugh with her about the paradox of being so incredibly grateful... but also really nervous because my parents are about to take over my house.

I want to rejoice with her about the different circumstances that this time they are coming to help for the upcoming birth of twin grandchildren instead of helping a child who is fighting cancer.

I want her advice on how to cherish this time with my mom and dad because it will not last forever and we rarely all live under one roof.

I want her to empathize with me when I complain about how little I am allowed to do when there is so much I want to be doing because she understands how frustrating this is.

I miss her... and really, I don't care what we talk about... it has been too long, and I just want to talk.

Full

Recently Chris and I had a friend in the area who miscarried her baby in her second trimester.  We are heartsick for her husband and her.  We sent them a card, and have kept them in our prayers, but we are feeling helpless as to any other way to offer comfort.

Both Chris and I ran into the no-longer-mother-to-be yesterday, and she was, understandably, a ball of emotions.  It was her first day back to work, and her eyes welled up with tears whenever she spoke.

After running into her, I have kissed, and hugged, and cuddled, and tickled Tracey Ann more than usual.  Last night, with my arms full of my healthy baby girl, my heart ached for the many wives whose arms are empty.

Chris and I love how our life has changed as we've become parents... but life is crazy.

We have two full-time jobs,
we have an over-full-time baby,
we are having a hard time balancing work and baby and family and marriage and fun,
we have less sleep,
less money,
less time together,
less romance,
less showers,
less down time,
less recreation,
less dates,
less travel,
less time with friends...

We also have more joy than we ever could have imagined.
When we were married, we were happier than either of us had ever been...
but now, we are different people.

We have more laughs,
more snuggles,
more giggles,
more smiles,
more excitement,
more joy,
more light,
...
just more

Our arms are full,
our life is full,
our hearts are full.

We have no idea why we are so blessed,
and our hearts break for the mothers and fathers whose arms are empty.