Today, I ran/walked 3 miles.  It was really tough to do, but I’m determined to go back and do it again tomorrow.  I’d like to enter a race just to say I did one.  Who knows, maybe I’ll actually run a marathon one day.

I have become the fattest I’ve ever been, and I can tell you one thing….I absolutely hate it!  Most of the weight gain was from alcohol, no doubt about that.  But I could use some help with my eating habits too.  I’ve been eating whatever and whenever and I know better than that.  I started today, like many other Americans on the first day of the new year.  But I intend to stick with it.  

I’m going to Hawaii this summer, but the only way I’m going to get there is if I get myself both physically and financially fit!  I have a full 6 months, which is tons of time!  I can do this.  I will do this!

So, Happy New Year and here’s to a year of healing!

I suffered the withdraw for 3 weeks.  It was tough, but I survived.  I can tell you that I will never put myself back on anti-depressants for as long as I live.  As the meds wore off, I felt myself begin to feel again.  I started to cry again.  It was actually quite strange.  It was like a block of ice was melting around me.  The numbness that I didn’t even know I was experiencing was fading.

Then December 6th came around.  I thought I would be fine, but in all actuality, I was not.  I went to work to try to have a “business as usual” kind of day but instead found myself locking my office door and having “moments” throughout the day.

Now here I am, about a week from Christmas, and I feel the depression trying to creep back in.  I don’t know if it’s from another Christmas without my dad or if it’s from me not really dealing with his death in the first place.

Either way, I still don’t want to cry about it and I still don’t really want to talk about it either.

The problem with this is, we can only hold it in for so long.  The longer you hold it in, the bigger the event when it finally does come out.  Last night was my big event.  I couldn’t hold it back any longer, so out it came.  I cried.  Loudly and hard.  I was mad that I was crying, then I was mad for the reason I was crying, I was mad at my dad for leaving me and my mom the way he did, and really I was mad at the world for being so cruel.  No one should have to experience this pain…yet, all of us at one time or another…do.

Tonight I feel rage.  The kind of rage only a mother can feel when she can’t take her child’s pain from him.  My oldest son has been holding it all in like the rest of us.  He’s much better at it than I.  But tonight, I think the same spirit that got to me last night, unleashed on him tonight.  My son entered my room bursting in tears and holding up a Christmas card that my father had given him a couple of years ago.  In it, my dad wrote about how special my son was to him and how proud of him he was and how he wanted him to always follow his dreams.  I felt so bad for him and so helpless.  He hurts like the rest of us, but he doesn’t show it as much or as often.  He evades ever talking about it unless he feels under control of his emotions.  I held my son close for the few short moments he allowed me to do so and we cried.  I told him to that the card was a piece of his grandpa that he left behind for my son so he would always remember him.  I told him to put the card somewhere safe so he would always have it when he wanted to remember just how special he was to his grandpa.

Of course all of this led to more anger.  I’m so mad at my dad for leaving my son to hurt like this.

But my anger never lasts very long.  I know better.  I know my dad would never intentionally hurt my son this way and I know that through all of our pain, if we survive it, comes strength and a better understanding of who we are as individuals.  But still it sucks.  For now, my anger is comforting so I’m going to choose to allow it to stay with me for awhile.  I understand now, why it is an important part of grief.  In your sadness, you find comfort in your anger.  Strange.

I’m writing about this because today has been particularly difficult for me to get through.  And I think the cause of this is the loss I am experiencing with the passing of my dad.  Its so crazy how fresh loss brings the pain of past loss.  I still think about my cousin a lot.  I think about the things that we did together, the exchanging of a “special” gift at Christmas, or how he pronounced motorcycle as “moki-cycle.”  And even on the weekend before his passing how he held my son in his arms.

So, today I am shedding double the tears.  Some for my dad because I miss him so much and the rawness of it all is still so fresh, and also some for my cousin.  But I know they are together, probably fishing.

I miss you both so very much.

She’s been staying the night here from time to time as well.  The kids LOVE this.  Think about it, how cool would it be if your grandma spent the night at your house as a kid.  I never experienced this, but I know I would’ve loved it too.  I was very close to my grandparents and I spent the night with them as much as I possibly could.  I think mom enjoys staying here as well.  I think she likes to see the happiness on my kids’ faces and I also think she enjoys the peace of knowing we are all okay that it brings.  The bonus of her staying the night over here is everyone gets up and does chores.  This is such a huge help to me.  No one can get my family moving like my mom.

Despite the time we have been spending together, something has been missing.  We don’t cry together.  Don’t get me wrong, we do cry still, but usually its just one of us at a time.  I think this stems from the protection we have over each other.  When she cries, I want to be strong for her and vise versa.  This past week though, was different.   Mom came over to hang out with me and the kids.  We drank some wine, like we always do.  I cooked dinner.  And we played silly Facebook games.  Then, mom suddenly went outside.  I felt something, not wrong, but different.  She didn’t go out to smoke like usual, she just went out.  So naturally, I followed.  I sensed she needed me.

When I got outside, mom was just staring out into the street.  She looked sad so I asked her if she was crying.  She replied that she was.  I didn’t even try to hold back the flood of tears that poured out of my eyes.  We cried, hard and we talked about my dad.  Our talk was private, so I will not share that, but I will say that I really needed that cry.  I needed to get it out and I needed to just let go.

Its been 3 months since my dad left us and I miss him dearly.  I still have my mom and for that I am so thankful.  Its funny how the death of a parent can throw you back into your childhood.