Quiet Sounds

Mom,

As I sit here listening to a song that you loved and introduced me to, I long for you to be able to hear this version. I could never fully appreciate the words of this song until I heard this version. Especially now, now that you've gone... These words hit me like a wave crashing in from the ocean every time... The Sound of Silence is louder than any other.

You have experienced something that all of us will at some point.  No one knows their time, but it is an inevitable finality we all must face.  The one single finality that, ironically, cannot be described or shared with anyone before their turn to face it.

It has been almost 6 years since you left us here in the physical world, but I know your spirit is still here. I may miss some, but I do see your signs... The song that plays at just the right time, or the movement of red in the trees that catches my eye as that beautiful cardinal finds it's spot just out of reach. Close enough to keep a watchful eye on me.  I am appreciative that you keep a respectful distance when it comes to the girls. They fully understand spirit and know that it exists here, guiding us... But I know that Evelina has asked you to not be in her house. She's still scared, and at 8, she hasn't yet reached the understanding without fear.  Aracelli is one with spirit most of the time. My beautiful empath.

So many things have changed over the last 6 years, and I've learned so much about myself. I found strength I didn't know I had in me.  One of the hardest lessons that I continue to work on daily is how to be the caring person I am but hold some boundaries. I only ever want others to succeed and be the happiest they can be... Learning to do this while preserving my own well-being is the hardest lesson yet. 

This last year has held some of the biggest challenges for me. From starting the year out with Covid to a month later starting the losing 6 month battle between me and my gallbladder, it's been stressful to say the least... But at the same time I have made some of the biggest steps too.  I finally got myself evaluated for ADHD. Guess what?! You were right, I definitely have it! I've decided to use my struggles as a voice to advocate to others that may be fighting the same battle. I'm happy I listened to my gut (and your words from years ago that replay in my head), because it's a whole new world now!  I've found will power I never had... The weight is coming off and I know, if you could be you would be right here encouraging me and reassuring me every step of the way. Along with these things has come the confidence I lost over the years , and a voice to encourage others to find the same. 

I still feel what I wrote in 2018 in reference to the beginning of the new year:

"A blank page to continue our story on. Like a fresh blanket of snow has fallen on the muddy mess we've been living in."

Thank you for continuing to guide me. I miss your presence here but always know you're around. Happy New Year in your spiritual world. We miss you here and love you!

~Les

Day to Day

**Loss and grief are different for everyone.  I cannot begin to comment on how someone else processes their grief, all I can do is speak to my own.  

Show of hands- how many of you, who have lost someone significant in your life, realize now, you are not the same person you were?  Just me??  Didn't think so.

The day my mom passed I was catapulted into a new version of myself.  Well, if I'm being honest, when it became obvious we were going to lose her the real journey started.  You realize at that point, that you were probably a complete shit head to your loved one at one point or another.  I know I was.  Do I regret it?  Yes, but at the same time, I realize that all those ass hat moments I had, helped build the strong relationship we shared.  

It has now been 1 year and 3 and a 1/2 months since she passed.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about her.  On the daily, I hope that I'm making decisions she would be proud of, but you know what?  I know there are going to be times she's behind me going "Leslie, what the hell are you thinking?".  It's OK though, I would have had those moments with her here too.  Mistakes are a part of life.  No one is perfect.  

Over the past year, I have gone through so many ups and downs.  There are days that I just can't deal with stupid bullshit drama.  I have no room in my life for that.  There are other days that I'll be fine and out of the blue it hits like a sledge hammer to the face and I'm lost in a sea of tears.  Then there are the days that I'm just calm, like there has been no trauma to my soul.  

I have discovered so much about myself, both in how I see myself, and how I interact with others.  I have gained a tremendous amount of confidence.  I have leaned that life is too damn short, and I'm not going to let what someone else thinks of me, dictate the way I live my life.  I need to be true to me... not only for my own mental health, but for the sake of my kids.  They deserve to have a mom who is stable (or as stable as any of us are).

Just recently I have started to let my emotions show.  I am usually the one who will wait until the kids are in bed, or until I'm alone to think about her, just in case a tear escapes from my eye.  Not only is this putting stress on me and my family (and let's face it, making me angry), but it is preventing me from sharing some amazing stories with my kids.  They don't deserve that.  She lives on through our memories and the stories we share.  Poor Lina won't have all too many memories of her own with Nonnie, it is my job to make sure she knows the amazing person she was, and how much her grandma loved her.  

Lina and my mom had a special bond.  My mom was over the moon in love with both of my kids, but she would always say "There's just something about that Lina".  Any one of you who have met Lina, know exactly what I'm talking about.  I think some of it is that she has some of my moms spirit in her.  I can just feel it with her.

How many of you that have lost someone have heard this one??

"Time heals all wounds"  
BWWAHAHAHAH... Why don't you come over here and say that to my face. Am I right??
 
Let me be completely honest here, yes, as time passes, it does get easier to get through the day to day.  Will this "wound" ever be "healed"?  Not a chance in the whole damn world!

A friend of mine shared a really cool analogy about a ball in a box when it comes to grief.  I know I cannot do it justice so I will not even try to explain.  You can find the post here.  

I can go a week without my ball hitting the pain button sometimes, but there are other times that it feels like it's a game of Pong and that damn Atari paddle keeps hitting the ball right back to the pain button.  

All in all, every day is different, every day is a learning experience, every day I grow, and everyday I miss her.  None of these will never change.

 

Eulogy

Today was rough. 

There were so many people there, people who loved my mom, and who she loved.  

This is what I read during the eulogy" 

“There is a sacredness in tears.  They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.  They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.  They are messengers of overwhelming grief… and unspeakable love.”

Washington Irving got that right.  My tears are not a sign of weakness.  They ARE messengers of grief and love.  They show in the physical sense, the grief I have within me.  They make my emotion of deep love visible to the naked eye. 

I think all of us can agree that Linda was a special woman.  We wouldn’t be here, gathered to remember her, if she wasn’t.  As I look around at all of your faces, I can’t help but think she was one lucky lady.  Just take a look around at all the people who loved her.  The more I think about it, maybe we were the lucky ones.  We were the ones embraced by her unconditional love and support.  I’m sure everyone one of us has “that one memory” or “Linda story” that stands out and will be remembered and cherished for all your years to come. 

She wore many different hats thought-out her life: Daughter, sister, wife, mother, nonnie, as well as: friend, coworker, mentor, confidant and problem solver.  No matter what hat she wore for you, she always wore it with a huge smile.

Ah, that smile.  How could you not love that beautiful smile.  It was virtually impossible to remain in a foul mood when she flashed that thing at you!  I’m often told that she will be remembered for her smile, but I will remember her for being my unconditional supporter. 

I ran everything past my mom.  The day I forgot Celli had a half day and left her hanging at school, I called mom.  I needed to know that I wasn’t the most horrible mother on the planet.   When I got a promotion at work, I called mom.  She was the first person I wanted to share my happiness with.  I wanted more than anything to be someone she could be proud of.  Even on our off days, she was there for me.  Everyone keeps saying, remember the good times, but you know what?  There is nothing I wouldn’t give for even one of the not so good times right now, just so I could be with her again. 

Vicki Harrison said, “Greif is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing .  Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming.  All we can do is learn to swim.”

This is so true of grief, but I have found that what Earl Grollman said continues that thought perfectly. “ Greif is not a disorder, a disease or sign of weakness.  It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love.  The only cure for grief is to grieve.”

Mom, you are greatly missed.  I would not be the person I am today without you.  I’m sorry I didn’t have more time with you, but I know you’re here, watching over your grandbabies.  I love you forever and always.

Walking With Angels

It is with great sadness that I start the next chapter of my journey... This time, without my mom here with me.  My mom passed away Saturday (the 6th), and I feel so... weird.

Weird is the only way I can describe this feeling.  Obviously, I'm sad.  Sad isn't even an accurate description for the amount of sad I am.  But I'm not just feeling sad.  I'm feeling, empty, lost, glazed, relieved...

The first couple days after her passing, I felt relief.  It was a good feeling to not have her suffering any more.  Sunday came and went.  I spent a lot of time with my dad and talking to my sister.  Monday I went back to work for a half day.  Took the afternoon with my dad to get the obituary submitted and run a few other errands. Tuesday was a different story.

The obituary came out in Tuesday's paper.  It has the most beautiful picture of her attached to it.  That was the day that it became real.  The feeling of relief started to fade and the sorrow started to kick in.  I started receiving messages about how great my mom was, and got to hear some fantastic memories of her.  This was the day that instead of being happy that the sick lady my mom had become was no longer in pain, I started to truly miss my momma.  The mom I have known my whole life.  The one person I want to call the most to talk about what I'm feeling right now.

I want nothing more than to hear her say she loves me one more time.  To have a hug.  To watch her love on my kids.  To hear her sing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' to E.  That was the first song that E learned, because her Nonie taught her.  I just keep waiting for a sign that she's here with me.  It's killing me that I can't feel her here. 

I have been very lucky to have such a great support group through friends, co-workers, and friends that are closer than some of our family.  Thank you so much to all of you.  Your love and support has helped me tremendously. 

Linda McCray

1955-2018

Phone Lines Down

The last time I was able to speak to my mom on the phone was December 18th.   I used to talk to my mom on the phone multiple times a day.  Every time I had a question, did something I was proud of, wanted to share something about my kids, or just have a little chat- I called her.  Only her.  She was the one who I wanted to call.  I now sit by her bed and talk to her.  It's a very one sided conversation, but I will take all the opportunity that I have.  I  am losing one of my best friends.

Every step of this journey has opened my eyes even more.  I never imagined that my emotions could do this to me.  I've had 2 kids, and experienced some wild mood swings (just ask my husband about the hot dog incident!), and for me, this is is harder on my moods.

I have turned into a complete ass hole.  I am completely unable, most of the time, to find or give happiness.  Sadly, this seems to happen to the people who are taking the most care of me.  The people that I love the most, and appreciate more than I could ever express.  I hate being this way.  I don't do it on purpose, I just can't stop the nastiness from coming out of my mouth.  As soon as it leaves, I realize it's come out wrong.  I am so sorry to anyone that has been on the receiving end of this for trying to do something nice for me.  To my husband and kids: I do love and appreciate you, I'm just having a very hard time seeing past my own grief to act correctly.

I do appreciate the help and guidance I am getting from people who have been through this.  I told my husband that it's like a weird club I been put into.  I told my friend Char (who lost her momma many years ago 💜) and she said "It is like a secret club that you were initiated into but don’t want to be in it".  Boom!  Nail hit right on the head. Worst club I've ever been a part of, but most supportive group of people by far.  

Public Service Announcement #1... I am sorry in advance for snapping (or Sorry, not sorry), but I am completely unable to put up with stupid drama.  Drama llamas are my least favorite animal.

Public service announcement #2...  When you complain about your mom, or what she did, or how she's a pain, etc... Just remember, you have one.  Only ONE,  and it will not be the same when she's gone.  

 

Forging Forward Into the New Year

Thank you to everyone who has responded and reached out from my last post.  I truly appreciate all of your support.  I would also like to take this chance to mention to friends and family that, per mom's request, no visitors. 

Being an optimist (usually), one of my absolute favorite days to celebrate is New Years.  It feels like everything is brand new.  A blank page to continue our story on. Like a fresh blanket of snow has fallen on the muddy mess we've been living in. But...

In reality, we started 2018 in the same condition we left 2017.  Nothing is wiped away, problems are still there from the day before, that mud is still there, under the snow.  Resolutions are made, and quickly forgotten.  The only thing that happens is that we start counting the days over.

I was told the other day to not let what we're going through "harden" me.  I had been thinking about this the other day too.  I know it is.  I feel hard already.  This got me thinking though, have I always been hard?  I try to see a whole situation rather than a side, I tend to take the logical and realistic approach during a discussion.  I talk myself out of opinions I thought I had.  Sometimes my views and the way I express them, do come across as hard.  Maybe I'm not as optimistic as I thought I was. 

In one instance I worry that I'm too hard, and in the next I'm crying.  This is a hard process, and I just keep reminding myself: It's ok to feel however I need to.  Just like I told A, there is no right way to feel about what we're going through.

My advise- Don't judge a book by it's cover. I may be smiling sometimes, but the pain inside is beyond description.

*To anyone else who may have gone, or may be going through this... I feel for you.  I know it's feels like no one else understands how you feel, but there are some of us who do.  Reach out.

Am I Breathing?

Have you ever had one of those panic attacks that makes you feel light headed, like you can't breathe?  I'm pretty sure I'm just living in one.

Having to watch someone you love in pain is never fun... Having to watch the woman who gave you life and taught you how to be the person you are today in pain? Heart wrenching.

"Life is the art of dying" ~Atticus

Over the course of the last 2 years, the hubs and I have talked about death, in a way, trying to prepare ourselves for the point in time where death would come. Both of us being very logical in how we think about life, we know that eventually death will come for all of us, and life will go on for those left behind. Dear God, it is so much harder than that!

I had to explain to A the other day what was happening. She's 8, and she knows, but her beautiful little positive mind was sure there was a way for her Nonnie to get better again.  It really broke my heart having to tell her that most likely her Nonnie won't be here within the next couple weeks.  We talked about how it's ok for her to cry or not cry. She can be sad or mad.  It is ok for her to feel any way she wants about this.  She seems to have chosen sad.  As I was leaving today to sit with mom, A was crying because she wanted to visit too.  I wouldn't let her come.  I don't know if I've made the right choice in not letting her visit, but she's so young.  She knows what's happening... I guess I just don't want her to have this picture in her head forever.

E on the other hand, knows that Nonnie is sick, but at not quite 3 years old, she doesn't understand what's going on.  I made sure she was able to face time with mom the other night to tell her she loves her and blow kisses.  I know at this point that doesn't matter to E, but she may some day ask if she got to say goodbye, and I would like to be able to tell her she did.

To all my friends and co-workers: Thank you for putting up with my roller coaster of emotions especially over the last few weeks.

To my in laws and extended family: Thank you for being there to help with the kids and whatever we need.  We are lucky to have you in our world.

To my husband: I don't know what I would do right now without you supporting me.  You have been my rock.  I know there is still a ways to go, but with your help, I will get through it.  I know I have been a lot to deal with lately, for that I am sorry, I love you.

To my sister: I am so sorry that you are not here.  I'm so proud of you for getting out of town and having a great job.  You are making some amazing memories and you deserve to be happy.

To my dad: You are amazing.  Mom has been so lucky to have you here with her through the entire process.  I know she can't express it, but I know she appreciates it.  Thank you for taking early retirement and making sure that mom had everything she needed.  I love you and appreciate everything you have done for her and us.

 Mom: I know you won't read this, but you need to know I love you more than words can express.  You gave us a great life growing up, and then helped give my daughters a great life.  I'm so sorry for the way I acted growing up.  I know it was just teenage things, but if I could take it back and redo it I would.  Thank you for everything you have given me.  I could not have asked for a better life with you.  I know you are in pain, and I just don't want to see you suffer any more.  We are all ok, whenever you are ready.  We love you.