Taking Care

One of the things Ghon and I struggled with is me time. And I don’t just mean ME, but HE and US.  With our work schedules and kid schedules, there really wasn’t enough time to focus on us, meaning us, or us as individuals. We struggled to find me time and us time. I often felt Ghon had more, especially once he stopped working. Sure, he was doing some work at the farm, but there was also a lot of photo work that at that point was purely creative and pleasure related.

Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like Ghon didn’t encourage me to get some time to myself; it was the execution of that time that was hard. I also hated to pay for a sitter so I could pay for me time and even more so when Ghon wasn’t working. He wanted me to take time off work so the kids were in school, but time off doesn’t always come easy. We didn’t struggle financially, but we didn’t have a lot extra, or any really, and I always put the wants of the kids and Ghon before my own.

I’d made him so angry once when he tried to get me to do something for myself. He made an appointment at a salon in Winchester for me to go get a cut and dye. I backed out of it. The dye job he set up for me was not something I really wanted, despite joking about it. I also didn’t want to put over $100 into a dye job that I knew wouldn’t last long. To me, it was a waste. I cancelled the appointment. It took months for me to understand how upset this made him. He wanted me to do something for me and tried to encourage it, and I fought back.

And when I would do things for myself, oh the guilt I would feel. If I got my nails done and it was a tight financial week, I’d take it out on myself that I money on my nails. If I hadn’t spent that $25, I’d have $25 for Ghon to give a model gas money, buy the kid the toy they want, go to a movie, buy more gardening supplies, an extra bag of chicken feed, or adding more money to the kids lunch account. I could justify clothes as I lost weight, I needed clothes. But I’d buy thrift because, well, I love a deal and I didn’t want to spend a ton of money on me. I can’t justify massage or nails. I couldn’t make time for yoga.

"He would want you to…"

There are things I’m doing now because I know Ghon would want me to. Sometimes, it’s because I want to. I try not to let the guilt that held me back before hold me back anymore. Sure, I didn’t need to buy that key rack or basket for the kitchen. But they were on sale, worked for the house and I wanted them. I’ve said before, I don’t know who I am anymore. I always put Ghon and the kids before me. Now, it’s me and the kids. I don’t want to spoil them. I’m not spoiling me. But we all need to be taken care of. I want to be comfortable doing things because I want to, not because he would want me to. And I don’t what to justify everything with, he would want you to, even if he would, because justification means I’m not worthy or trying to suppress guilt. And I’m trying to move away from the guilt factor.

Ghon wanted me to make more time for us. It was something we’d been working on doing. I needed more time for just me. We were working on that. But now, I think it’s even more important. Ghon was a good father, but he wasn’t always the shuttle bus, the planner, the grocer getter. And while he didn’t do much of that, I don’t have him now to even think about backing me up. And with him not working, the plan was to switch some of that from me to him. Now, I’m a parenting team of one. I get up, I take care of the kids, I go to work, I get the kids, do kid stuff, go to bed. Weekends, I’m with the kids.

Now, I doubt any parents will disagree with me, but especially moms; I love my kids. I love them even when they are little snots, because I know the happy kid is still there. I’m dedicated to raising them happy and healthy. But for me to do that, I have to be happy and healthy. If I don’t have my head at least on my shoulders, how in the world can I take care of them? I always warn caretakers of sick family – you have to take care of you to take care of them. It’s time I also take my advice, and the advice Ghon was giving for us. 

Two nights ago, I said something to the kids about being tired and wanting to go to bed. Jonathan tried to be my caretaker. He told me well mom, go to bed. Don’t worry about the laundry or the unpacking, just go to bed. I promised I would try, and didn’t do too bad.

I made a major decision for after school care, moving them from a caretaker, who is so much more than that to us, to a costlier after school program at Jonathan’s Tae Kwon Do studio because it is closer to my work and saves me over an hour and a half drive time at least three days a week. That time is important.  I’ve created a schedule of our activities and set a work schedule that works with it all and builds in an hour or two a couple days a week that I can run errands before I have to pick-up kids. When other random events or appointments don’t get in the way, it allows me to go to one yoga class a week. I’ve had a few massages. I carry all of my tension and stress in my shoulders, and getting them to relax and sit where they are supposed to is a challenge. When stress rises, I actually feel my shoulders rise. I actually joined a massage membership program, to ensure I get at least one massage a month, because I won't waste the money, and well, I love massage.

These things will help. A lot. But it still leaves my big house kinda empty. I can’t tell you how many times people have said “it just keeps going” when I walk them around the house. My kids are loud, the dog is a crybaby, and the two cats sound like a herd of buffalo. But without Ghon, there is still a big void. Yoga and massage are also AMAZING, but leave no real time for adult conversation outside of work. I have lots of friends, but we are all busy with work or kids or both, and only a few am I really close with. 

In effort to take care of me, I am going to try to plan at least a monthly mom’s night. Maybe it will be at the house and I send Jonathan and Genevieve out. Maybe it will be in town somewhere. Dinner, movies, an activity; something to get me with adults. Some time for me. And for you. :)

And if I’ve told you to stop by; come see the house anytime; I mean it. Major construction is now complete. I’m down to trim work and details and like I said before, moving the last of our stuff and figuring out where it will go. There might be a mess around, but that won’t be much different than my norm, no matter how hard I try.  I’m not always the best hostess; but this home was made to be lived in. It needs to be lived in. Come, help us live. Help us define life at Hummingbird Farm without Ghon. 

Help us remember him. Always. 

Random Clarity

I should be going to bed, but I have stuff on my mind.

It's that strength thing again.

It's trying to figure out how I am going to finish moving and when.

Why do I have a huge open space in the middle of my bedroom floor? Should something be there?

I should have read more about Fung Shui when designing parts of the house and laying out furniture.

I need to get up when the alarm goes off.

I wish I was making breakfast for the kids in the morning. I try, but they don't always want to get up or eat. At least I do know they are getting breakfast at school. And as long as I can afford that and am assured they are eating, does it matter if I make it or not? No, but I have fresh eggs damn it!

We need haircuts this weekend.

I need to figure out how to build the used shelves I bought. This is worse than Ikea. No words or pictures.

Am I going to have enough data on my cellular plan?

Put a chair in the car for soccer on Saturday.

Don't forget to put it back Sunday night if you take it out to move stuff.

Am I forgetting something on Sunday afternoon?

There, 11pm and I made hair appointments for all three of us.

I'm thirsty, but don't feel like getting up.

I need to hang some pictures on the wall. Do I need a 2nd coat of paint first?

Why is the cat staring at me?

How can I get Jonathan to sleep in his own room?

I'm glad I'm living here; I just wish Ghon would have lived here too.

I can't believe I have to go get his full body bear mount; and he never got to see it.

It's going to be over 90 this weekend and in addition to moving, I have to shovel out the chicken coop. I don't mind the work; but ugg, 90 and stinky.

There aren't enough hours in the day.

There aren't enough hours at night.

I need to get Jonathan some counseling. He's getting angry easy,

I need to go to bed.

I am in bed.

I need to go to sleep.

I got out of bed on time. No thanks to me, but thanks Jase for helping me up by needing to pee.

I am facebooking and blogging from the elliptical. On a laptop. Score.

Jonathan's lunch is packed, my lunch is ready as is  my breakfast (yeah overnight oats). Genevieve is buying. This is why I have to get up in the morning. Score.

I used WD40 on this thing yesterday and there are still squeaks. I must find the source of the noise.

I can see a picture of Ghon smiling from here. That makes me happy. Not as happy as if he were still sleeping in bed, but, happy.

I have laundry to fold. Probably one of my least favorite chores.

This:

Replace single with widow. Or take it out completely. It doesn't matter. It's why I keep going. I have to get comfortable outside my comfort zone. Which means growth. Never-ending. Because as I push, it will become comfort zone and I'll need to go further. That my friends, is scary and exciting, all at the same time.

I don't think I'll do mechanical car work though. I'll save that for my friend Jamie.

I should practice changing a tire though. I have the understanding, just never executed.

I want to take yoga again. I need to meditate or clear my mind  somehow. It's always busy. Can you tell?

This post didn't have much to do with the farmhouse. Yet, it does.

Just keep swimming. Right, Caryn?

If you are reading or Facebooking from your bed or couch, get up and move. It helps. Exercise has been missing in my life. It will help you and a healthy you allows you to help others. PSA for the morning.

Thanks for following along...

First firsts: Happy Anniversary

We never sleep in. Like, ever.  It’s either school or work during the week. Saturdays were for dance or baseball, and now soccer; Sunday brings Sunday School and worship. Not one of these is a bad thing. It just means we don’t sleep in. Ever. 

Until last weekend. Thank you, Labor Day!

Saturday was a prep day. Get ready for the chili cookoff, clean out the car, then take it to get washed inside and out, run a few errands, bring stuff to the house and finally, leave for Pennsylvania. We left later than I’d hoped, but I tried not to freak out much. We didn’t have to be there a specific time Saturday; I just wanted to be there earlier.

It had become a bit of a tradition that Ghon and I would always have dinner at Texas Roadhouse on the Saturday before the PA State ICS Chili Cookoff in Hanover. Our hotel was in the same parking lot and we both like steak, so why not? This year, I told the kids we were going there, as that was tradition. And they were cool with that. And they were cool with dining outside. I made them survive the entire 2 hour trip with no electronics (gasp!) and they were still pleasant at dinner. A winning situation! I thought it was kind of funny, that the night before I logged into Ghon’s facebook and saw the On This Day app – it was recalling a trip to Hanover and Texas Roadhouse from a few years prior. Dinner was not so relaxing. It was late, the kids were tired and cranky. Genevieve sat on Ghon’s lap the entire time. Spilled applesauce on him and I think his food. Ruined his meal and he refused to eat; boxed it up. It was an angry Ghon that night. Oh, how times change.

Sunday we were off to hotel breakfast. Me, alone, scrambling after two kids who insist they can serve themselves but need help opening the cereal box, pouring the milk, getting the butter packet open for the toast they did successfully make, and trying to let them know that no, they do not need more eggs. Or donuts. Finally, we get to the cookoff.

I said before, it would be harder to not be there than be there. And that was true. As with the day of Ghon’s Celebration of Life, the morning was the hardest. (Don’t feel bad reading this Dave…) From the moment I first said Hi to our friend Dave, who stepped in to be Chief Judge in Ghon’s place, I started to well up and get the lumpy throat. There it was, right up front, that this day was different. Ghon was not there. During the cook’s meeting, Dave shared a few wonderful words in remembrance, and asked for a moment of silence. It was then, that I knew Ghon was still with me. As a few tears rolled down my cheek, I closed my eyes, and lifted my head to the sun. I stood still, absorbing it’s warmth, and saw an abundance of red swirling in my eyes. It warmed me, and my heart. 

Then the wife and mom in me fought the urge to go wipe Dave’s emotionally charged dripping nose. (Sorry, Dave. :))

The Chairman of the cookoff, John Loose, never failed to remember that this cook-off fell on our anniversary weekend. He once again, presented me with anniversary flowers. As did our friend Laurie Ryffel. I’m feeling the love. As I passed out judging cups, I was wrapped in the warm embrace of many of our friends. It may be a hug to some, a simple offer of condolence to others, but those words and those hugs – they are what give me that “strength” everyone talks about. I’m an energy vampire, in a good sort of way.

Things went well the rest of the day. Typical, well run PA State Cook-off. Jonathan competed in the "Ghon Eckley Memorial Youth Division" cookoff, and was pretty upset when he didn't place. 

Genevieve served chili most of the day with Miss Laurie. And when someone gave her a $1 tip for being a good server, she later told me she went to the french fry stand and tried to buy fries, but didn't have enough money. 

Jonathan wanted Rita's Italian Ice early in the day. I was surprised, asked him what flavor, how much, and to see if Genevieve wanted some. They came back, I gave them cash and a bit later, they came back laughing so hard. He was so proud of himself for tricking me, and both of them getting fries rather than ice. I'm doomed.

Since our friend Miss Laurie knows the best ice cream spots, Genevieve asked if we could join her for ice cream after the cookoff. We headed out to Baugher’s in Westminster MD. I grew up going to Baughers, and Ghon and I had our first date there. When we could, we’d celebrate our anniversary there. We did for our 10^{th   a}nd last year, since the kids were with another great friend for the weekend, we celebrated our 16^th there, then went for a walk around my college campus and took a picture in front of the chapel where we were married.  After dinner, I took the kids for a tour of the campus, showing them where daddy got dressed for the wedding, where I’d worked and got ready, the dorms I lived in, where I had classes, the Western Maryland Railroad caboose, and Baker Chapel – where we were married. They were pretty excited for the whole tour, and Genevieve wants to go there when she goes to college. Which is subject to change because two days earlier, she declared she didn’t want to go to college. 

Baker Chapel

WM Caboose

Baker Memorial Chapel and Reflecting Pool

With the stops and the long ride home, I declared Monday, sleep in day. And that we did.  I think I woke up around 930, fell back asleep and finally got up around 10. Jonathan followed around 11, and Genevieve, well, she surprisingly slept until noon! 

I had the most relaxing morning. I made some breakfast for me, and ate on the front porch in my pajamas on one of our gliders. Jonathan came down and sat with me, as in, on my lap. We talked, I ate, and we heard little motors buzzing. 

Hummingbirds!

We watched them dart around and hit a feeder. I quickly refilled an empty one, then we hung a new bird feeder together. The hummingbirds were busy doing their thing. It was great to see them around. Next spring, it's full on planting and getting them back in full force like I remember in 1996. 

Wow. That was twenty years ago. Not only was this our 17th wedding anniversary, but also 21 years together. Ghon liked to joke about the time we spent together and couldn't wait until I turned 38 - every day after, I officially spent more than half of my life with him. Sadly, I needed three more years to say that to him.

After we fed the birds, we put out some new solar lights I picked up for our walk way. I need to get another box or two. We didn't do as good of a job spacing them out as I'd like, and after seeing them lit, I think I want them down both sides of the walk, not just one. 

I'm just so tired of shopping at home improvement stores. They aren't nearly as exciting anymore as they once were.

Once both kids were up and fed, we headed to my dad's house to try to bring a load of stuff back. My goal was to finish Jonathan's room, and we came close. I was able to bring my mom's desk, kid recliners, and most of Jonathan's stuff. The other big move was 3 out of 4 pets. Monday night, we brought our cats and dog back with us.

The cats seem to be doing OK. I think they missed us; they are attached to me and haven't climbed on me that much in bed in forever. Jase is adjusting, but I think he feels out of sorts too. He'll get there, I'm sure. 

Lefty - lounging on my mom's desk

They say firsts are the hardest. The first year is hard because of all the firsts. There was the first PA State, and the first anniversary. I'm glad I went, and glad I had my friends there looking out for me and helping in the judging area (thanks Cindy, Chris, Doug, Jason and of course, Dave!). I was right, not being there would have been worse. And thanks to that very peaceful morning, and a little one on one time with Jonathan, the tone was set right for the day Monday. I was a little agitated near the end of the day and could just feel that I had to get home. But once I did, I was OK. Two down, a gazillion more to go.

Yes, I was pissed. But he paid for it. I shoved cake far up that nose!
September 5, 1999

This week, goal is to move Kola in, finish emptying Jonathan's room, master bathroom, and then perhaps some stuff that's already boxed and in the living room. I'd like to get my sofa too. Then off to Genevieve's room and the rest of my stuff. My room is hard. Between my stuff and Ghon's, well, I'm just not sure what to do with all of it. But that, well that is an entirely different post. 

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Labor Day Traditions

On September 4,1999, Hurricane Dennis turned northwestward and made landfall in Cape Lookout, North Carolina, as a strong tropical storm.

On September 5, I woke to torrential downpours after an evening forecast predicting Dennis would finish his life in the Atlantic. I ate eggs, made by my Dad, and sat in the living room in nervous anticipation for the day. The phone rang, and the voice on the other end asked if the event was still happening. I vaguely recall repeating yes, yes it is, then asking my dad to please talk to these people after asking such an absurd question.

I left the house with a Hefty trash bag over my head and rainwater ankle deep. I cancelled my afternoon ride arrangements and had to go to Plan B.

Roughly 7 hours later, I was Mrs. Ghon Eckley, riding to my wedding reception in a limo rather than a horse and buggy. 

Grandma Grace, me, Ghon, Grandma Genevieve

For the greater part of the last 17 years, Ghon and I have spent our anniversary weekend with our extended family cooking chili. I used to grumble about it some, but there was no point. We'd cooked this weekend before we were married, no reason to stop now. A few years ago, we switched from cooking to being the Chief Judge and Scorekeeper of one, and more recently, two events over the weekend. Ghon had suggested a few months ago that perhaps we chair and judge a third in Winchester. After all, it is a 3 day weekend...

As with any other weekend, there is a lot to do around the farm. I'm still trying to move furniture and stuff out of my dad's house and to the farm. The last round of oil should be going down in the living room so I can start moving a sofa in. I see what has to move and get a little overwhelmed. Evenings don't leave a lot of time to do much, and my kitchen counter has been overcome with boxes and such, waiting for me to assemble pantry shelves or a cat scratching post when we can finally bring our cats to live with us. A three day weekend would give me a lot of time to do something.

I knew after Ghon died that there were three cookoffs that we had agreed to judge at and would be scrambling. The first was just a week after, and fortunately, our friends the Violettes jumped right in and handled the event. Then, I knew I had to make some decisions about my double header anniversary weekend.

I opted to bow out of the Saturday event. And if I took on Sunday, I knew I'd need a Chief Judge. No one of course will be Ghon, but I can't wear both hats here. I sent my request, and once our friend Dave agreed, it was a done deal, I was going to Hanover. This event has often fell on our anniversary, and was on our wedding day. This year, it's the day before.

So tomorrow, I will spend would should have been my 16 year and 364 days of being married to Ghon at the PA State Chili Cookoff. I'll be scorekeeping, Jonathan is competing in a new event, the Ghon Eckley Memorial Youth Division, and Genevieve will be terrorizing, I mean helping, a few friends in their chili booths. 

I'm sure some people wonder how in the world I could do this. How can I attend the cookoff without Ghon? How can I still scorekeep without him? Why am I out having fun when my husband died just over 2 months ago? Why am I not sitting around in complete sorrow on my anniversary? 

My grief is my own. The stupid things make me cry. The big things make me cry. And while it may sound hokey to some, I know that Ghon does not want me sitting around doing nothing. He would want me out doing something. Chili cooking became his competitive outlet, but I introduced him to this world. And I've said it a million times, but my chili friends are more than friends, but are family. The emotions I felt at Ghon's celebration of life when I saw members of my chili family attend that were at our wedding. Amazing. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Not being at in Hanover on Labor Day weekend would make me think more about the void in my life by making that void even bigger. 

Attending this event - it gives me the opportunity to continue Ghon's passion and keep his memory alive. As we drove to Hanover, the kids and I listened to some of dad's favorite music, told stories, and ate dinner where we always ate the Saturday night before the cookoff. Genevieve remembered that 3 years ago, she had a fish in this room. If I was home, working on the house or building shelving, we would not be remembering Ghon the same way.

And I know, that if emotions run high tomorrow at the chili cookoff, I will have a sea of support. I won't be home alone, or alone with the kids. I have framily that know him, understand him and whether they loved him, hated him, or loved to hate him, appreciate who he was. Turning my back on my friends, when they have been there for me, is not something I can do. And I know, that they won't turn their back on me tomorrow if I need them.

Celebrating anniversary 16 in 2015 by visiting the chapel we were married in - after the chili cookoff.

So for tomorrow, I'll keep  our tradition going. Spending the day in Hanover PA, counting the hours till the rain comes, because it always does, and remembering Ghon. Especially that one cookoff where he went swimming in the flash flood. Or the one he dressed up like a viking. Or the one where.....

On our anniversary, Monday, I'll remember him. I'll probably cry. I'll feel overwhelmed with how much there is to do. I'll be angry that he isn't here to help. And I'll probably look at my wedding album and tell a story or two to the kids. Most of all, I'll reflect on a love that was never ending. Our relationship wasn't always perfect, but it was damn near. One thing I can never deny is the amount of love he had for me. I just pray, and remind him daily, how much I have always loved him, and always will.

Looking back and looking forward

In my last post, I alluded to a blog I started but never finished. Here it is, and finished too. A little more backstory.

Hummingbird Farm has experienced another major setback. A setback unlike all others before it. A change that will impact the future of the farm in countless ways for years to come.

Ghon and I have been making plans for our move. Finalizing the “to do before we move” list and the “it would be nice to do” list. Things may have been slower than anticipated, but Ghon was ecstatic over the progress being made. Just seeing tile in our mudroom floor, he looked at me, and with a glimmer in his eye said, “it’s starting to look like a home.” It certainly was.

Sometime in April, Ghon left his job at Best Buy. Major transition there! The work environment was no longer good for him; the stress was wearing on him, the drive getting old, and the schedule, while it sorta worked for us from a get to work/get to kid activity standpoint, it also greatly limited our ability to do things as a family. There was no such thing as weekend time. Upon leaving work, the plan was for Ghon to take the farm to the next level from a farming perspective.  Trout raising, pigs and gardening; in addition to our eggs and looking at raising meat chickens.

He started window shopping and prepared to purchase a tractor so he could do all the work around the farm. He worked a little in the house, continued his photography, and worked on plans for the farm.

On June 13, 2016, he had a double inguinal hernia repair. Things went well and he was healing up. Actually taking his time and not rushing things! But on June 18, our world changed.

Our last picture together - headed in for hernia surgery.

The night of June 17, he was experiencing a lot of pain. By 1:30 am on the 18^th, we were on our way to the emergency room at our local hospital. About midnight, I left without my husband, my partner, my world. I promised him before he left us, that I would raise the kids in the farmhouse, that I would keep the chickens and the goats, do my best with his bees, and I was sorry, but I was not getting pigs. I stroked his head, I held his hand, and I cried. I professed my love for him, for us, and apologized. For what, I'm not sure, other than I was so sorry that this was happening to him. To us. That I wasn't there for him. He had internal bleeding, and was admitted for pain management and monitoring. I stayed all night, into the morning, went home for a few hours and at 4pm, he went into cardiac arrest after standing up from his bed. He was resuscitated, but it took nearly 30 minutes. He was on life support. The doctors didn't know what his brain activity was like, but it wasn't promising. He was given a very small chance of making it through the night. I almost passed out in his room. 

I knew that was not the life he wanted. In my heart, when I got the call at 4:25, I knew, my soul knew, I wasn't coming home with him. That doesn't mean I still didn't want to, or planned to do whatever I could to try, but I knew. That's the only way I can put it.

With his son Eric, I agreed to a DNR near 1030pm, and we went to be with him. His body was shutting down. We didn't have to remove support. His fragile heart stopped beating at 11:09 with Eric and I at his sides. He was not alone. I stayed. I left to let the nurses remove the machines. I went back in. Family came to check on Eric and I. They left. I stayed. I tried to leave, got to the door and turned around and went back in. I couldn't go. I can't say goodbye. I kissed him again, stroked his head, and backed out of the room - I couldn't turn my back on him. I finally left, and left a huge part of my heart behind. I left empty.

The truly last picture. Hand in hand.

As empty as I was, I was fueled with direction. The only thing I can remember saying was that I needed to get into that house. I needed to get into the farmhouse. I had to find a way to get it done; the stuff contractors were already doing, things we were going to find new help with, and things he was going to do. And damn it, I had to finish the penny floor. 

For the next 2 weeks, the kids and I were surrounded by prayers, meals, friends, family and offers to get away and play dates. I accepted what I could; but I had to work on the house. I didn't want to go away. I wanted to be where our dream was, where his heart was. I had to finish. I had to clean out, assess what needed to be done and make a plan. Yeah, sometimes I think Ghon is looking at me either perturbed or laughing, wondering where that same drive was when he was alive. It was there, but time, well time meant something different.

I will need to devote an entirely different post to the many blessings were were given. I am humbled. Completely. I argue with Ghon all the time about them. He is likely saying they are for me and the kids - that people loved us. I tell him they are for us - because of their love for us and him. It's not me alone. I pray that he now sees how many people appreciated him and how many people he positively impacted. I knew there were many, but even I was amazed at the number of messages I received from people I didn't know.

Eight weeks after Ghon died, the kids and I spent our first night in the house. It wasn't complete yet; Jonathan's room was still under construction. Some floors needed finishing. Detail work to be done. But it was done enough for us to stay. And so, we did. 

One week later, with some construction still happening, we opened our home to all of our friends and family for a Celebration of Life for Ghon. It was an absolutely beautiful day. The only thing I would have changed was for it to be a complete housewarming party with Ghon there; not a Celebration of his life. Yet, I know he was there. He was watching in disbelief for sure. But surrounding us all in love and his big smile, telling a joke to make us laugh and probably saying something inappropriate at least once, if not twice. That day, the house felt even more like home.

When I started blogging about the house, it was just that, about the house, us figuring out farming and  life on a farm. I'd wanted to blog more in the last year, but just didn't make the time. All free time went to working on the house,  not talking about it. As time continues, there will still be some of that. But there will probably be some cathartic release of emotion too. As I sat here finishing this post, the tears were free flowing and my nose blowing. So much of who I am was defined by Ghon and who we were, that I'm not sure who I am. I've actually struggled with that for a bit, and will have to figure that out. Writing seems to help, so perhaps some, I will share.  

There is so much I want to do to continue and honor Ghon, to fulfill some of his dreams and wishes, and create a legacy so that no one ever forgets him. There is so much to do at the house. I hate moving, but I want to be completely  moved in. I'm trying to focus on the kids and trying not to forget about me. I want immediate results. But that doesn't happen. I keep hearing things take time, but when you lose such an important part of your life so quickly, without warning, and realize - for real - that tomorrow is never a given, time - well, time, it takes on a new perspective. I can't take time for granted. I want it all done and done now - but life doesn't happen that way. So I'll make a million lists that don't get finished and will stay up too late trying to make them get done. And I will only ask for help when absolutely necessary because I'm hard headed and want to show myself I can do it. 

Or, I'll wake up from this bizarre dream, and have Ghon here with me, swinging on our front porch swing hand in hand like we planned.  But that won't happen. 

And I can't exhaust myself much more. 

So bear with me. I'm staying positive. I'm doing stuff. I'm giving back to others. But I know I'm still not operating at full speed. All cylinders are not firing. I feel so scatter brained, and I hate it. But I'll get there. Sooner or later. I need to. The kids need me to. Ghon wants me to.

Sooner or later. Because I have nothing but time and time has nothing but me. 

79 Days

I started a new blog post a few weeks ago, but I just didn't finish it.

There are a lot of things I start, but can't seem to finish lately. Like thoughts, projects, grocery shopping, and laundry.

I'm more forgetful. My bills are paid, my kids go to their activities, but I can't remember anything without writing it down. Or remember at weird hours, and then don't go to sleep.

I am completely off whack, off balance, and out of sorts. I haven't exercised in months. I'm eating horribly. I think I forgot how to cook. Or maybe, it's just that I don't want to. No, I really don't know how to.

Because 79 days ago, I cooked dinner for 4-5 people. I meal planned. I knew what were having for breakfast, lunch and dinner, at least 6 out of 7 days of the week. But then, my world was thrown into a tailspin. My 4-5 became 3-4, and then, 3. And one of the most helpful things during that transition, was 2 weeks worth of delivery dinner. I don't mean takeout, but friends cooking wonderful meals and bringing it to our home. The only thing I had to think about, was who was coming over, and really, I didn't have to think about that. I wrote down who brought what, and think I've formally thanked everyone, but, I'm not sure. I'm afraid I forgot someone. I'm sure I did. And now, I'll have to check my notebook to find out.

But when you go from cooking for 3 adults and 2 kids to 1 adult and 2 kids, well, it's easier not to. Really, I want to figure it out again. I'm having a hard time figuring out what to make. Because when you are cooking for 3 adults, it's easier to make pork chops, or a batch of taco soup, the occasional meatloaf, pot of spaghetti, a roasted chicken or even a pot roast. I've always had a eat or don't attitude with the kids and the occasional picky-ness. But now, I just don't know what to make, because it's just me and I have my own needs, and they have theirs and well, I'm a little lost.

All because, 79 days ago, I lost my husband. My other half, my best friend. I didn't lose him. I was right there with him. I know where he went. And although I know it must have been his time, and that he is no longer in pain from a variety of ailments that plagued him; we were not ready for this. Yeah, no one ever is, but wow. I was not ready for this.

79 days ago, we were planning when we would move into the farmhouse, a trash the dress wedding shoot, and a week long vacation, for just the two of us. 78 days ago, I began planning when I would move with the kids into the farmhouse, how to cancel or transfer airfare, a funeral, and how to get rid of 6 wedding dresses, that I wore the night before my husband died, the last picture I sent him of me were a series of bad selfies in the dresses, want nothing to do with now, but can't seem to get rid of them.

15 days ago I moved into the farmhouse with the kids and my husband's ashes. I was not spending my first night here without him.

7 days ago, we had a party to celebrate him and remember how awesome he was, how hard headed he was, how he was a complete asshole, and how he took care of so many people - giving them advice, friendship, support, and love when they needed it most. The kids and I opened our home to our friends, our family, and his friends. I felt so much love that day. His presence, ever so big, was ever so big at the farm that day. I felt so at peace, cleaning up what little I had to clean in the kitchen, and seeing people having a great time chatting in the yard. It felt like home.

1 day ago, I went to the beach. At approximately the time Ghon had his last conscious moments; at the time he collapsed and went into cardiac arrest; I thought about him. I stood in "Family Funland" and thought to myself, "Oh, it's been a while since you've talked to Ghon. You should give him a call and see what he's up to and let him know what we are doing and that we are OK." Yep, been a while. I'll get right on that phone call, as soon as I make sure I don't start the flood works in the middle of Funland.  Because who cries when you are having a good time at Funland, right?

At least the flashing neon sign on my forehead reading "WIDOW" is dimming a bit.

I've been called strong more times that I can count. But I really don't know what that means. I don't feel strong. I feel vulnerable. I feel weak. I feel incomplete. I want to cry when I can't open a jar of jelly, when I hear a certain song on the radio, or when my kids are testy - because I don't know if they are just being testy or are having a grief moment. If strong means determined, yea, I guess I am strong. We had goals, we had a few shared dreams. And whatever I can do to make those happen, I will.

We had an argument a week before he died. I told him I didn't have my own dreams. That his were mine. He told me to go get some. After he died, I told him I was going to take some of his dreams for me. I've accomplished the first. We are living in this house.

I still don't know what the rest of my dreams are. I'm only thinking about his right now. I'm not sure that is the right thing to do, but it's what I can do.

If you've called me strong, please tell me what that means.

If you have any dreams to share, do so.

If you can teach me how to cook again, send me a recipe. For the record, I'm sick of my kids eating chicken tenders.

If you can do anything to help, don't be afraid to talk about Ghon. Don't be afraid to tell the good, the bad and the everything in between. Share your stories with the kids. Know that Jonathan is hurting; and is always looking, although he won't say it; for someone to talk to or learn from. Stop by, say hi. Just chill and chat. It's good.

If you don't know what to say - it's ok to say, I don't know what to say. It's better than not saying anything. And it's nice to be asked, how are you. Just know, any particular day or time, I could say fine, or OK and be fine or OK. Or I may say fine, or OK and still lose it.

79 days ago, Ghon was taken from us. Nothing can or will change that. But everything we say and do can keep his memory and legacy alive so that we never forget. Help us all never forget.

I love you Ghon.