Mom

It's scary sometimes how our minds can play tricks on us. I saw a woman when I was shopping earlier who from behind looked exactly like my mother and for a split second I wanted to run to her. I could actually feel my body begin to lunge in her direction. Of course when she turned around it wasn't my mother, nor did she look anything like her, but from behind...

I wanted to hug her with all of my might. I wanted to tell her of all the change coming down the pike in my life. I wanted to hear the excitement in her voice and watch her eyes light up as I told her I was going to be a grandmother. I wanted to feel her arms wrapped around me and her hand wiping my tears away as I buried my head in her shoulder and told her how much I've missed her. I wanted to buy her some Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

Needless to say it was a very tearful drive home from the grocery store. They say that time makes grief more tolerable and I'd have to agree with that. It doesn't visit me as often and I'm starting to be able to recall joyful moments with joy instead of sadness but on the days when it hurts, it still hurts so much.

xo,
Carrie

Miss H.

Today is my last official day with my client. I'll be starting to care for an eight week old baby next week and I can't commit timewise to both jobs. My time with her has been a wonderful experience and I'm going to miss her.

I'm going to miss her sense of humor. It's amazing with all of her health issues that she still has one, but boy does she ever! I'll miss when she makes up her own words because she can't remember the proper pronounciation and I have to rack my brain to try to figure out what it is she's saying to me so as not to embarass her. I'll miss trying to decipher her grocery lists when words like bowels appear on it instead of bowls. I'll miss the sweet aroma of her Popeyes fried chicken where a weekly trip to the drive through has been part of the routine since I began with her over a year ago. I told her the other day that if I die before she does, I want her to bring me a piece of Popeyes chicken on my deathbed so I can go to heaven knowing if it tastes as good as it smells! She said, "But then everyone will say that Miss H. killed you with her gluten chicken, but I'll do it for you baby."

That's another thing that I will miss greatly, her calling me baby. "How you doin' baby?", "It's okay, it's in God's hands baby." She has definitely been good for my self esteem. Noone else says to me, "Girl...if I had a figure like yours, I'd be gettin' busy ALL the time!" I'll never be able to hear Aretha sing "Respect" again without envisioning Miss H. belt it out (slightly off key) at the top of her lungs while snapping her fingers and grooving to the beat as we ride down the road.

I know one of the things I'll miss most is the feeling I get when she allows herself to become vulnerable with me. Like when we're at the doctors office and she has the nurse come and get me from the waiting room to come and be with her because she doesn't want to be alone when the doctor delivers the latest update or reprimands her yet again for not following his orders. Or like the time when I accompanied her to a medical procedure that she was petrified to be put to sleep for because the last time she'd been put to sleep there were complications and she almost didn't wake up. There was a nurse doing the pre-procedure check in who was not being very sensitive to that fear at all and though my client is very capable of speaking up for herself, she sensed my extreme irritation with this nurse and invited me to speak up on her behalf simply by giving me the look that I've come to know means, "Have at it!" Sometimes even though we're capable ourselves, it's just nice to know that someone has your back. Knowing that someone trusts you enough to show their vulnerability feeds the desire to guard that trust with your life.

There's alot I'm going to miss about her, even the stories that I've heard at least 100 times about all of the dysfunctional people in her building. One time I was there and the person living above her was walking around in what my client perceived as a purposeful manner in order to make noise above our heads, so she grabbed her cane and started whacking the heck out of the ceiling, leaving a mark every time and yelling, "Yeah, we hear you...we hear you!" That was one of my first introductions to Miss H. and I knew right then and there that my time with her was going to be very entertaining.

I'll especially miss her faith. Her faith, like the rest of ours, is challenged on a daily basis but somehow she manages never to lose it. It's inspirational to be around and I think that might be the most important lesson I'll take with me. That or if you're a size 52 DDD you can hide just about anything in your bra and noone will notice! One day we were driving and all of a sudden I heard a beep coming from her chest. We looked at eachother with puzzled faces as she reached into her bra and pulled out a portable phone which she had forgotten to put back on the charger in her living room. I laughed so hard when she proceeded to tell me that when she was living back home in a not so great neighborhood she used to pack a pistol in her bra! Can you imagine?

Oh yes, it's been an enlightening time and while I plan to keep in touch, I know life happens and the best of intentions can fall by the wayside. I know I've helped her in numerous ways over the past year and a half but I'm not sure if she knows how much she's helped me to grow as a person. I'm going to make sure I speak that to her today.

Thank you Miss H. I'll miss you and I'll always be grateful for our connection. God Bless.

xo,
Carrie

Cranky

I am an absolute bear today! I can feel it creeping slowly, taking over my entire being and I'm not sure how to shut it off this morning. EVERYTHING is irritating me! My aches and pains, especially this sore jaw that keeps recurring and I haven't figured out the source yet, the sound of the phone that keeps ringing nonstop, the sight of the dust on the furniture and the dirty dishes and the piles of laundry. Walls that are in need of painting, closets that need to be cleaned and organized, windows that are still screaming to be cleaned despite the numerous attempts (in my head) to tackle that project. The bills and the lack of money to pay them leading to this feeling of inadequacy that is making my head pound. My every thought this morning is just pissing me off!

The poor dog, whose latest thing is to have an anxiety attack whenever he gets gated in the kitchen because of muddy or wet paws or I've just vacuumed and would like to enjoy an hour of seeing no dog hair all over the house, is getting on my last nerve! Earlier, after he'd been outside for some time, as soon as he saw the gate going up he started the shaking and the panting. Knowing I'm in no mood to deal with that this morning I walked away and went upstairs to start sorting some laundry. Next thing I know, I hear him banging the gate against the doorway in an attempt to move it with his nose and a minute later, guess who appeared at the top of the stairs? I'm sure he was very proud of his escape, that is until he encountered me up there. He then realized very quickly that he'd made a very BAD choice! I screamed at the top of my lungs "KITCHEN!" like a mad woman and for some strange reason he began running away from me, into every room of the house BUT the kitchen and of course I kept chasing him screaming "KITCHEN" louder every time. My son finally surfaced from his room, grabbed the dog by his collar and said, "Why does he need to go into the kitchen?". I yelled back, "Because his paws were wet and I'm SICK of this behavior! My son knew enough not to take it any further and helped me by escorting the dog back into the kitchen. As the dog sat in the corner shaking uncontrollably and panting like crazy I looked at him and yelled, "Yeah...you BETTER shake now!". Oh man...I'm going to hell, I just know it.

Some days no matter how hard you try to fight it, it's just bigger than you are. Some days, all the blessings in the world just aren't enough to silence the "Oh woe is me" thoughts that take over and make for a miserable day.

I have a client in less than an hour and I'm quite certain that once I get out of my house and out of my head my mood will shift. I'll attempt to do the things that normally make me feel better when I feel like this, like writing this blog, taking a walk, sitting in the sun and maybe calling a friend. I'll try hard not to fall into old patterns of drowning my feelings with food which will ultimately make things worse and be thankful that I no longer have a desire to drown them with alcohol. Maybe I'll make a card or two.

I'll give it my best shot and hope that this day ends in a very different place than it has begun but if you drop by later and see my husband in a corner of the kitchen shaking uncontrollably, you'll know I didn't succeed!

xo,
Carrie

Inner Critic

I went shopping for jeans yesterday because I've come to accept that the few pounds I put on over the winter are not going to just miraculously melt away after a couple of trips to the gym. It's amazing what putting on a pair of jeans that are too tight (especially when they used to be considered my "fat jeans") can do to my mood.

I have been part of a Womens Group for many years now. We meet once a month and go on retreat together once a year. You never really know what the topic of conversation will be at our monthly meetings. The groups always take on a life of their own depending on what the needs are of the individual members when they walk through the door. Sometimes you don't even know what your own needs are until you come in, plop yourself down on a comfy chair or couch, look around and see the faces of your trusted friends and get the massive jug of chocolates which is a staple at these meetings placed securely in your lap. Then it comes. Much to your surprise it comes with vigor and it continues to spew, sometimes so forcefully that it takes your breath away. I'm always amazed at what you can let go of when you're in a safe environment, surrounded by kindred souls.

Anyway, the other night we got on the subject of the "inner critic". It has other names as well, a couple of which are "negative self talk" or perhaps "The devil"! Whatever you call it, you know it well I'm sure. It's that voice inside of your head that says things to you that are so hurtful you could never fathom saying them to or even believing them about another person. The voice that when I put on those tight jeans screams out, "You are such a disgusting fat PIG! How could you let yourself do this? You are such a LOSER!". But it doesn't end there, I then walk around feeling somehow not good enough as the waistline of my pants cuts into my stomach and the inner critics words cut into my heart.

If we allow ourselves to buy into the words of the inner critic it not only has the potential to affect our mood, it has the potential to affect our life. We don't need to be in a relationship with an abuser to suffer the affects of abuse when we're oh so capable of dishing out that abuse to ourselves.

So what do you do when that voice starts to chime in? I'm sure there are many methods that have been documented on how to deal with this phenomenon effectively. One woman in group says that she asks it nicely to leave the room while she tries to figure out what the message behind the voice is. I on the other hand am not so nice! I've gotten very good at yelling back until it subsides a bit. Or I ask myself what I would say to my children if they were saying these things about themselves and then say those things to myself as many times as I need to until I feel better.

Sometimes the voice of the inner critic is just a big, fat liar and needs to be dealt with as such but sometimes the voice of the inner critic is calling for action, and that's not always a bad thing if like my friend, you can silence it long enough to figure out what that call to action is. Whatever methods we use, I think it's important to remember that we're not alone in our battle against the inner critic and we do have the power to silence it.

Gotta go...my inner critic is calling me to the mall!

xo,
Carrie

Prayer

I received an email from a friend yesterday asking for prayers for a mutual friend whose eleven year old niece died on Friday. This is the kind of news that rocks you to your core, especially when you have young children of your own. I didn't know the little girl or her parents personally but when you hear something like this I don't think you need to in order to be able to relate to the type of loss it is and how life altering it will be for all involved.

We have friends and relatives who have lost children and I can honestly say I believe it's a loss you never recover from. Our friends and family have carried on and I'm happy to say appear to have found joy in their lives again but you know there's a part of them missing that will never return.

I was watching the news last night while eating dinner and was listening to President Obama talk about how the biggest threat to our nation (and the world) would be if terrorist organizations were able to figure out how to build a nuclear bomb. He assured us that they would not hesitate to use it (silly me, I thought it was a President's job to reassure a nation). I suddenly lost my appetite.

I know that when I first started writing this blog I promised not to talk too much about religion and for the most part I think I've kept that promise but let me tell you something - if you don't believe in something bigger, something stronger and more powerful or a loving creator of some sort with a loving, peaceful intention for us all then I don't know why this life would be worth living.

Regardless of who/what you direct it toward, sometimes a prayer is all you can offer and a belief that it is heard can mean the difference between hope or defeat, joy or despair. Sometimes a prayer is your only saving grace and today I am offering mine to all in need.

xo,
Carrie

Hope

I promised myself I would get up and write first thing this morning. It's 6:08 and my vision is still a little blurry, as are my thoughts. It sounds like it's raining outside. I guess I can't complain after the beautiful summer like weather we've had for early April (92 degrees last Wednesday).

I went to my girlfriend's mother's wake last night. She passed away at noon on Easter Sunday. My friend is going through the motions but I know her brain hasn't had a chance to wrap itself around what's happened yet. She's still in shock mode... "We went to go pick her up because she was coming to spend the week with us to help celebrate (her daughter's) birthday. The decorations are still up, her place setting is still set at the dining room table!" "One minute we're driving to the E.R. because she has a pain and the next she's gone. I still can't believe I'm talking about her in the past tense." Wow. How life can change in a moment's time.

I went to a beautiful outdoor sunrise Easter service at a local park this year. It was 6:30 a.m. and as you entered the park you could hear the sound of a trumpet blowing, then came silence, then out of the silence came the low moan of a bagpipe playing Amazing Grace. When the bagpipe was finished there was a moment to breathe it all in, when all you could hear was the cheerful sound of birds greeting daybreak as people set up their lawn chairs. The backdrop for this service was the city of Hartford off in the distance with the early morning fog hovering over the tops of the buildings. I've never seen the city look so peaceful.

A man from one of the area churches welcomed us and then another man began to sing "Morning has broken..." in an absolutely heavenly voice. Representatives from various churches came to the podium one by one to speak their truth on this Easter morning but none touched me so deeply as the woman who spoke of Mother Mary's pain when it came time for her to say goodbye to Jesus. Mary had no clue what was to come and her pain was deep. Then this woman spoke of the joy, the elation, the light that came from the horrible darkness. We all sang and gave thanks.

I decided to go to the cemetary after the service to see my mom. I hadn't been there since Christmas time (thank you to whoever removed the mini Christmas tree!) and it was definitely an emotional visit. I left some daffodils, a little medal cross and a marshmallow peep (which I'm sure some critter enjoyed immensely). I had myself a good cry and as I left, my thoughts turned toward Mother Mary. The pain, the joy, the light and the resurrection of hope. No matter how difficult our journey becomes, the resurrection of hope is always on our side.

xo,
Carrie

Love

Sometimes I feel like I sound like a broken record. I talk about love and blessings and gratitude alot and maybe that's partly because I need to remind myself often of the important things in life. As you get older I think it's easier to stay focused on what's important because luckily with age comes wisdom, as well as the reality that your time on this earth is getting shorter with every birthday you celebrate. Maybe I'm wrong but if this life isn't about love and the connections we make along the way then I don't know what it's about.

A friend whose child I watch called last week to see if her child could come an extra day because she was bringing her mom to the emergency room for what they thought was gallstones. I spoke with her several times over the course of three days and the information was always the same, "Not sure yet, they're running more tests". Yesterday I had her child and when she came to pick her up it was obvious that she was in a state of deep sadness. That state where you're trying to speak and hoping you won't burst into tears, one I understand very well. I went to her and said, "Hugs are included in your daycare fees", and I hugged her. You could see the tears starting to form but she said nothing, quickly gathered her daughter's things, wished me a happy Easter and out the door they went. Last night I got an email saying that her mother has breast cancer and liver cancer and even with chemo they are giving her about two months at best. Her exact words were, "She's so sleepy I'm afraid I won't get to talk to her much more. She needs the meds for the pain and they keep increasing them. It's all happening so fast."

Oh how my heart is breaking for my friend. So fast indeed. I remember when I went with my brother and sister in law to a seminar on grief through the holidays, one of the things the speaker said was that the one thing he hears almost invariably from people is that it happened "too fast". Even in families who knew their loved one was dying when the actual death came it was never expected at that moment.

I didn't really know what to say to her other than to savor every moment left with her mom, say everything it is she wants to say and assume her mother can hear it whether it appears that way or not. Lean on the people who are going through this with her and know that she's not alone even though it seems that way right now. I had my dad, six siblings, their spouses, numerous other family members and friends going through the process with me and it still felt like I was facing it alone at times. Our grief is our own, noone can grieve for us or take it from us and sometimes it seems like a very lonely process but the truth is if we let them, the people who care about us can love us through anything. Love and our connections, what else is there really?

I'll leave you with a quote from Mother Teresa - "Love has a hem to her garment, that reaches the very dust. It sweeps the stains from the streets and lanes, And because it can, it must."

xo,
Carrie