moving on

we are moving.

moving out of the house I last shared with John.  we have fun memories here  I have trouble sitting in the living room because it was his room.  The kids have begged me too but I’m like. yeah, ok,  for a bit.  but I don’t own it like John did.  He owned his space.  We all just knew, that his space was ….. his space.  He would watch tv shows, he would watch kid shows,   he placed computer and reported to me the lates in team stats and other stuff.

When John died, it was officially in the hospital but honestly it was this house.   I came home from work early that day.  I took his blood sugar and he was so sick.  we did the suppository, we did a shot.  we check blood sugar, we slowly gave fluids.  I should have given more and hell, taken him to the ER  I was ignorant.  I missed the signs.  he started going blind.  I waited for Kae to get home. she literally was walking into our house and i was pulling out.   I tried John really, I did.  but I suck.  I put ice chips in your mouth and gave your history, you were calming down. because I was with you taking over.  you knew I would take care of you.  but shit happened.  you coded.  and they took me away.  I don’t know how long but i heard it.  it was not good.  I spaced out during that time.  then they brought me in.  and i talked to you and a tear came out.  I told my friend Jesse about it and he as a father of 2 girls and a 1 step daughter should so know.  He closed his eyes, John.   he knew the nightmare you felt. and then you were gone.

so 2 years later john, i found a house where the kids can have their own space and I have my own space too.  I’m excited.  lots to do but that ok.

grief jeans

The Fall of 2013, I was going to go on two trips, one to NYC which would be my first time to go to Bank Street College to study with mentors and also to present at the NAEYC national conf in D.C.  I was flying, I was so ready.

I had gone shopping and had gotten clothes.  I even took my pants/jeans to a seamstress  to have them hemmed.  My jeans actually were altered to fit me.

So I had this one pair that was the perfect shade of blue jean.  they fit great on my jelly belly and butt.  comfy.

So John died.

I don’t remember what I was wearing that day.  I have no recollection.

i remember getting up the next morning and walking out in my house and being in shock.  i barely slept and I just stared.  eventually I put on the perfect jeans.  and a tee shirt and a cardigan.

for the next few days, I functioned wearing little.   I barely showered.

I remember showering and being alone .  When someone dies, you also go to not being alone at all and everyone around you.  you are in a state of shock, or at least I was.  but in the shower, I would cry.  it was a deep cry.  a cry that triggered my gag reflex and i would dry heave too. sometimes i would throw up. sometimes I could  not cry because I would be physically robbed of letting the cry out because of throwing up and not being able to stop heaving. so when in the shower, I let it out slowly and it was a deep cry moan.  and i would get out and dry off and put on my jeans and my tee shirt or cardigan. and dansko’s.

I did not care what i looked like.

I quit shaving then,  i just bathed so others would not gag at my smell.  because I was being hugged a lot.

so days went on, weeks and the jeans were worn a lot.  gosh day 2 was so perfect.  maybe day 3 might happen but then i would wash them.

eventually after eating a lot of papa johns i did not fit into all my pants but my grief jeans kinda held on to me.  thank god.  so I wore them a lot.  jeans and a tee shirt was my uniform.

then i quit my job and took a few months off from them but I went to grad school and guess what my grief jeans were perfect for being a grad assistant.  perfect for the next day and sat mornings.

so now… as I enter fall again.  my grief jeans are worn out.  i have see through holes in my ass/crotch and it’s not a sexy thing at all.

I just feel sad about having to say goodbye to these jeans, I mean right now could be my last time wearing them so I decided to write about these jeans.  The hemmed jeans, the perfect so faded color, comfy and goes with everything.  grief jeans.  I grieved in them for 2 years now.

i love you grief jeans.

we are moving…..

We are moving……….


Every child will get their own room.  I will have a living room and the kids will have a den.  We will have a garage.  We will have a fenced in backyard.

Its near Anna’s school and near lots of children close by!  I’m so excited.  A gas stove, nice bathtub with proper caulking.  a screen porch, it’s all the little things that I like.  It’s on a small culdesack road with close neighbors but honestly, I”ll be ok with that.  there is quite a bit of privacy in the back and well It seems to be just right for us.  I’m really excited.  REALLY!

The kids are too.  We are glad to leave Busbee.  The yard keeps getting bigger.  The landlords are assholes.  My new neighbors are awesome but I have to put my family first.  I will have a nice kitchen.  I will have a small house with rooms for everyone.

I”m ok with leaving here, our last place with John.  I’m ok with leaving my bedroom where I saw him sick and did not take him soon enough to the ER.  I get to have a new place with no sad memories.  I’ll have this place in my mind but i’m ready to move. I’m ready for a change and packing and unpacking.  for repositioning things.  For rearrangement and yet keeping the things that you love and mean the most.

the kids are so excited.  Anna and Kaegan get their own rooms, with space for toys and space for privacy.  🙂  We will paint as they please and it will give us something to do and take care of.

I”m still thinking about jobs and what is best for us, and hope that opportunity keeps showing up and I know it.  I worried about when the party was over, what I would do, I worried I would have nothing but I will be ok, I have the move and all the things to do.  New beauty to see.  Sept and Oct to enjoy.  2 years soon.  it sucks to say that.

It’s been awhile

I’ve been in a summer slump.  Well, I finished Grad school and maybe I had writer’s block in my mind/body attempt to recover from all the time in the past at the computer.  I’ve been looking for jobs, cleaning my house, getting ready for school to start.  I’ve tried to do some creative writing to submit to an online magazine but I have not been feeling creative.  After reading some friends blogs and reading just life stuff, I thought, why am I trying to be funny about everything or why do I only vent or try to be funny.  So here it goes.

So one great thing I just did/had was my…. “Big Fat Italian Graduation Party”!    This was my celebration of finishing grad school and my attempt to have fun and be a hostess. I have not been this too much because of grief, and messy house and school.  So this summer, I have been cleaning, and tossing and organizing.  I have worked on my happy living room and literally the day before my party, I had my house the way I wanted it AND that very same day, I got a call from a new rental house land lady of saying yes, we could rent her house.

errrrrk what?

Yep, while riding home from my mom and dad’s a few weeks ago, a bit bored and kinda blue…. I saw a sign for a house to rent right around the corner from Anna’s School.  It is in the neighborhood that the kids and I have all talked about “we wished” we could live there because it has tons of friends all around of everyone’s age.  So I called that number and I ended up in a delightful conversation with a mom who knew us sorda and knew our story.  So….. I applied for the house.  I had no job.  and my credit is in repair.

The house has a 4th bedroom, a den, a garage, a carport, a screen porch, a fenced in backyard.  I really liked it.

I though, got my credit score and found a few things I needed to take care of.  So I once more I put my big girl panties on and paid some debt.  I hacked dead bushes, trimmed bushes, pulled weeds… and healed.

And I threw an adorable italian potluck outside and my friends all proclaimed it a great party, one of the best they have been to. I’ve never been prouder.  I looked around and I had my family and my best friends all around me.  Children were squealing and playing.  Adults laughing and talking, eating and drinking.   that was some happy ness for me.

This summer has been so healing.  I have accomplished a lifetime goal of getting my master’s.  Something I did not know or think I could do and I did it awesome.

I took my kids to florida for a lazy vacation of pool time, rum and cokes, and sailing.

I went to Italy all by myself and studied in my mecca of Reggio Emilia.  I made more friends and made an amazing memory.

I cleaned up my house and threw things out, organized more stuff and made my home happy.

So finally, school started and everyone is doing well.  I have a high schooler now.  whew…

My parents bought a house and are close by and I can drive over for a visit and chat.

and I got a new house to spread out in.

I got a little job too!

I think about John a lot still.  I think about what he would think and say.  How things would make him happy.  I think he would be proud of me.  I miss hugging him and when I toss and turn at night I think about how I wish he was there.  but i’m ok.

The grief fog is lifting.  I am living.  I am rocking the widow hood.