A long overdue Thankful Thursday

Life has been kinda crappy but there's always something to be thankful for.

1. I am thankful for the family in Collegeville who purchased a brand new, fancy washing machine which led them to post their old one on Craigslist. Our machine went kaput two weeks ago and while I was getting used to hanging out at the public washer I am very thankful to have a working machine in my basement again. It's a super nice one too and quite a bargain at only $100.

2. I am thankful that Cousin Missy came out of surgery fine and dandy this week. I will always toast to her health.

3. I am thankful that Cha's high fever and complaints that her sides and back hurt was nothing more serious than another bladder infection. When her school called this morning and said she was running a 103 fever I had fears of appendicitis. She was in a lot of pain but the motrin, tylenol and suprex have made her feel much better in the last 12 hours.

4. I am thankful that the weather has been amazing this week. It's been in the mid to high 70s all week. It's crazy shorts weather! We are heading back down to the 50s this weekend, but that's perfect Halloween weather so it's all good.

5. I am thankful for Resolve Carpet Cleaner. With two cats, a dog, a 5 year old and a messy spouse, Resolve has been a sanity saver. Tho I am still kicking myself for installing cream colored carpet.

6. I am thankful for my very reliable Toyota Yaris which Cha and I will be taking on yet another road trip at the end of November. We'll be driving nearly 1,000 miles to my mother's memorial service in Wisconsin.

7. I am thankful for the wonderful friends in my life who know exactly what to say and when to say it.

8. I am thankful for Cha's teacher who has been doing a great job teaching her to read. Cha has been dreaming about reading for a year and she's finally getting it. I am so very proud of her and thankful that Miss Beth has made learning to read fun for my little girl.

9. I am thankful for my husband for his big shoulders, which have provided much sanity during my mental unrest.

10. I am thankful for blogspot for always being there when I need her.

Bonus: I am thankful for the woman at the crematorium who 'checked the back' and just happened to find the perfect stray mini-urn. She showed my father and I many urns and saw that I was hoping to find something similar to my brother Keith's. She walked in the back and found exactly what I was looking for. Below is my Mother on the left and Brother Keith on the fight. It means so much to me that they match, tho I have no idea why.

where's shock?

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Those are the five stages of grief. My question is, where the heck is shock? As far as I'm concerned shock and calling your shrink should be in the top two.

My family has experienced an unfair share of pain, loss and suffering in the last few years. I learned long ago to stop saying 'At least it can't get any worse' because it always can. It can always get worse, which I guess means that there's always something to be thankful for.

Losing my brother to suicide was the most painful event in my life. It shook me to the core and made me look at everything in my world differently. My family, meaning my parents and my siblings, were scattered all over the country and some didn't have the best relationship with each other. But when my brother died we all came together and although briefly we were there for another. It was a deeply personal experience that only the five remaining family members could understand and we came together.

But then we all came apart and were left to deal with the suicide in our own way, since the loss meant different things to all of us. I lost my big brother, whom I hadn't spoken to in many months and whose last contact was far from kind. I was upset with my brother when he died and although I do not feel tremendous guilt over our last words, I do have issues that I have been dealing with.

My parents lost their first child, something I pray I will never have to experience because I cannot even begin to understand the depth of that pain.

Months after my brother's death, nine to be exact, my mother was diagnosed with myelodysplastic syndrome. She hadn't been feeling well and the diagnoses came after several days in the hospital and many rounds of testing. I did a bit of research after the diagnosis and found there isn't a whole lot of information on the internet. When I stumbled upon Rex's Story I was shocked at the statement: Is MDS fatal? Normally, yes, though the length of time it takes to happen is very variable.

I think that's when the shock began. The further I read the more disturbed things became. My mother was sick and if the statistics were to be believed....well, I was having a hard time going there.

My mother did not deserve this, tho I guess no one really does. She was still recovering from the devastating loss of her son who, more than any of her other children, she has always had a very close connection. She battled heart problems and cancer and diabetes and pneumonia and a string of other health issues. This woman needed a break! She needed a year of good health and happy times with her family and friends. More than anyone, she was due.

The MDS was a punch in the gut but my mother handled it as she did with everything else in her life - humor, sarcasm, grace and more than a little smidgen of bitchiness. She started chemo which kicked her ass and underwent weekly blood transfusions which gave her much needed pep. But she was in a lot of pain. Three weeks ago she came down with shingles. If you have to know only one thing about shingles, it's that it causes a whole lot of pain. Just what she did not need. Too much pain.

On September 22nd my mother had an appointment for her weekly blood transfusion. Something that was sure to make her feel better and lessen a tiny bit of her pain. But it never happened. 'She didn't make it' are the words that will forever and ever amen ring in my mind.

What?? How is this possible? I just spoke to her days ago. I just saw her in July. She was just out to visit last year. She was just diagnosed six weeks ago. She's my mother and I need her. Doesn't anyone up there know how much I need her? Don't they know she is due? She needs peace and a healthy body and for the pain to be gone.



I love you mom and I miss you every minute of every day. Give Keith a hug for me and enjoy that healthy body. Smile big and enjoy the sunshine.

My mother with nearly all of her grandchildren
July 8, 2010

loss

I hope you don't mind. A dear friend of mine lost a loved one to suicide recently. Tonight I sent her a rambling note with my thoughts. I still miss my brother daily and the pain is still intense.

Dear friend,

Things I have learned both in and out of the survivor of suicide support group....

In the early days I could not say the word suicide. It was 'took his life' or 'passed away'. Suicide was just too hard to say.

You can't turn your brain off and will find yourself thinking about it all the time. Obsessing over the details. Fretting over the last minutes, what was he thinking, how was he feeling, did he think of me, etc. Neither of us saw the body but I cannot stop going there. Trying to imagine what he looked like, how he felt and smelled. How he screamed and how much pain he was in. I cannot decide whether it's a blessing that I didn't see him or not. It's very difficult because we will never have the answer to that question.

The first survivors of suicide meeting I went to was incredible. The facilitator talked a bit about the group's guidelines and then told her story (she lost her college age son). One thing she said that day that made so much sense to me was that during those first few weeks we (the survivors) seem to have super power strength. We can endure much more than we EVER thought we could. Seriously, I never thought I'd have to strength to clean Keith's room and sort thru his journals. The facilitator said that during that time the survivors are still in shock and are under almost a full body Novocaine. That was exactly how I felt. The novocaine was keeping us from feeling the intense pain so we could get thru that painful beginning.

But after time the novocaine wears off and the real pain begins. I have heard people speak who lost children or spouses only weeks before. They said they didn't think it could get worse but it does. That novocaine is gone and you just lose it. It will get worse before it gets better.

I became very aware of how often people make reference to suicide, and how often it is joked about. I am totally guilty of it and have a different view now. People will say insensitive things because they have no idea what to say. It's hard not to get offended but I think back on how clueless I was and how I would nave no idea what to say either. I do get mad however when people pull that God crap on me. In times like these, strangers have NO business talking to you about god or religion or anything spiritual. Now is not to time to save anyone's souls it's about healing.

One of the great things about the support group is that after a while you'll find that people in your life expect you to be over it and stop talking about 'it'. You can always talk about it in meetings with others who know exactly how you are feeling. Honestly, I still need to talk about it almost daily and no one really wants to hear it. I have met several ex-wives who said they didn't think they had a right to come to meetings and talk but it's such a personal thing that no one is ever excluded.

One woman lost her ex husband via shotgun to the head. It was a recent loss and she was going on about how she thought it could have been an accident. How she wasn't sure he really meant to shoot himself. That's true but the facilitator brought up passive suicide, which is doing dangerous things when you know there's a possibility that you could die but you take no precautions. The ex wife knew he had been having bad thoughts so it was possible that he was being careless with a gun hoping that it would go off. It doesn't really matter in the end but it's that thinking, the fine details, that can drive you bonkers.

Hearing about your loss has really taken me back to those early days after Keith's death. It's still a fresh wound and who knows how long it will be. I feel like I can put myself in everyone's position and the pain is unbearable all around. Every single person he left behind is going to feel it for a long time.

“Suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain.”

Suicide: Read This First

4 and a half

This is the best age ever. Totally! Four was hell but Four and a Half is heaven. There's such a big difference.

We went to the Dogwood Festival in Phoenixville last weekend. We stopped at the parade and then walked over to the rides. I didn't tell Cha beforehand where we were going. (Mainly because it was a complete spur of the moment thing.) We got in the car and I told her that we were going someplace fun, because she was being such a good girl. She was so excited trying to figure out where we were headed. And when I told her that we were meeting one of her BFF's (Cait) she got even more excited. She was happy when we got to the corner of Main and Bridge to watch the parade and then beamed when she found out that the cars were throwing CANDY. We watched for about a half hour then walked down to the rides, where we met up with Cait and her mom Val. Those two girls are so great together. They're both a bit tomboy-ish and on every ride opted for the 'boy' choice. (Let's go on the Monkey Ride. Shall we sit in the Pink Monkey or the Black Monkey?? Black Monkey!!) It's fun to just stand back and watch them live.

We won two of the biggest goldfish I've ever seen. Cha calls them Rosie and Nemo and surprisingly, they are still alive. (Cait's two fish didn't last 24 hours.) She hasn't paid much attention to them since Saturday afternoon. The cats took notice immediately. I already know how this is going to play out. These wouldn't be the first fish that Petey Cat has 'played' with.


Life is good when you know a 4 and a Half year old.

6 Months

This week marked six months since my brother died. The actual day just happened to be the same day as the monthly Survivors of Suicide meeting. I've only missed one meeting in that six months and find the sessions very helpful, even more so than the cancer survivor meetings which I stopped attending long, long ago.

There were five attendees who were dealing with the loss of siblings, which is rare. Most of the losses are parents, children or spouses. Siblings seem to be the forgotten mourners. The facilitator said something during the first session I attended that has stuck with me. Siblings are the longest relationship you will ever have in your life. Longer than your parents, spouses or children. They have known you since birth and you are in each other's lives (one way or another) until death. Yet even with that significance, siblings don't get the same amount of attention when there is a loss. People are quick to check on the parents or spouses of a suicide victim but never realize that the brother or sister might need the same support.

So it was good to talk about losing my brother with others who have lost theirs. A few things that we all had in common? A tremendous amount of guilt. We were their brothers/sisters, why couldn't we save them? And every one of us in the room felt things ended on bad terms. There were harsh words, angry hang-ups, mean emails or long term silence. Normal sibling bickering that ended in the most cruel way. There is no making-up or saying 'Dude, I'm sorry.' Just stupid, angry words that will hang in your thoughts forever.

Another thing that we all experienced was the internal struggle within in the family, especially with remaining siblings. Some no longer speak, and others are so pissed at the way their surviving brothers/sisters have acted since the loss that all they do is fight. Families are torn apart and are never the same. Isn't that the last thing you need at such a crappy time in your life?

I'm so thankful for finding this group. It helps to talk, yell and cry with people who know exactly how you are feeling and hear from those who are farther down the recovery road. To hear that altho it will never be alright, it will be better. It's wonderful to have the freedom to say things that you could never say to your family and friends and not be thought of as bitter or crazy.

Anyway, here are a few especially hard moments:

Saying their name, or meeting someone with the same name
Saying 'my 2 brothers' instead of 'my 3 brothers'
That first family picture without the missing loved one
That point when you can tell that family/friends/co-workers, etc. really don't want to hear about it anymore

I miss you Keith.

Bad, bad, survivor!

This weekend is the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in Philadelphia. It's the Mother's Day 5k that I have participated in the past 2 years. It is a beautiful and emotional event and I support Susan G. Komen 100%. I've raised several thousand dollars during those two years and am very happy with the experience.

I signed up this year and raised a few pennies but sometime between last December when I registered and the last couple of weeks I decided not to walk.

You see, it's Mother's Day. And I am a Mother. A mother who just happened to have had breast cancer. Cancer has taken many things from me since I was diagnosed and I just don't want to give it another Mother's Day.

Some girlfriends and I talked about doing Relay for Life instead. We spoke to a representative from the American Cancer Society this morning and will be forming a team later this fall. Walks are typically held in spring and summer, so we're a little late getting started for this year but we will be all over it for next year.

So, if you're local (or even not so local!) and want to join us be sure to save the date - May 21, 2011. A few of us plan on staying the entire 24 hour period but don't expect the whole team to commit to the same. It will be fun, fun, fun!

always together

Keith! Jim! Joan! Dan!

I can't count the number of times my mother yelled our names when we were kids. The four names, always together and always in the same order. I can still hear it in my mind and it makes me smile. It's odd the things you hold on to from your youth.

Last month, on what would have been my brother's 47th birthday, Charlotte and I went tree shopping. I wanted to plant something to honor his memory, like the tree we planted for my Aunt Betty who passed away two years ago. We stopped by several nurseries and I found something I'd never seen before. It was a fruit cocktail tree. A single tree that grows four different fruit - peach, plum, nectarine and apricot. The four fruit, always together. It made me cry (tho pretty much everything does lately). I decided we had to plant that tree in Keith's memory and show that we will always be together. Somehow.

We finally got around to planting it today. Well, actually Matt did the planting while I stood silently and cried. Matt took great pains to make sure that the tree was planted just right. He gently dug the hole and sifted the soil, using only the good stuff. Matt spent a good hour getting that tree set properly in place because that's what his brother-in-law deserved. All the while I stood and watched and remembered.

It's simply beautiful.