Happiness is...

That word, happiness, has been on my mind a lot lately--ever since a week or so ago when I read a passage in one of my favorite books. The author asks, “How happy are you right now? Do you even know?” She writes that most women know what makes other people happy…their spouses, children, bosses, etc. But, while they know what makes others happy, they typically aren’t aware of what things in life bring smiles to their own faces, joy to their hearts or a spring to their step.

 As I have gone about my life the past few weeks, which I will say has been somewhat challenging at times, I’ve been thinking about “happiness” a great deal. When you think about it, “happy” is such a little word, yet it holds so much power over us. I am confident that most everyone knows at least one person who seems as if he or she really doesn’t want to be happy, who seems to enjoy wallowing in misery and pity. But, I don’t believe that they do. Maybe it is the sometimes-buried “Miss Pollyanna Susie Sunshine” part of my personality, but I absolutely refuse to believe that anyone truly enjoys not being happy. While I can think of one or two people I’ve known who make me question that belief at times, I am certain that everyone, when they are alone with their thoughts and hopes and dreams, wants to be happy. However, occasionally, life gets in the way and in the midst of despair, or grief, or depression, we begin to think that our happiness relies on things that are outside of our control. I know I often find myself falling into that trap and putting duct tape over Miss Susie Sunshine’s mouth.

 I have been told at times that I “over think” things. I know that I do, but I don’t think it is always a bad thing. Now and then, I think it is good to overthink a situation, especially if it brings some clarity to it and makes the situation better.

Which brings me back to this happiness concept.

I have most assuredly been “overthinking” while I have pondered this notion of happiness—if I am happy, what makes me happy, etc. My overthinking has led me to the following observations:

 * I have spent much of the last year not happy at all due to many different circumstances.

*I often reflect on my life and think “I will be happy when ________ happens.” Or, “I will be happy when __________ is over.” Or, “I just know I will be happy when I no longer have to worry about ________.” Those few statements cover pretty much any scenario that I imagine influences whether or not I am or will be happy at any given moment.

*The author of that book is right on target:  I am pretty sure I know what makes my kids or my boss happy, but I’ve never really consciously thought about what makes ME happy and makes my soul sing.

*My happiness usually takes a back seat to what makes other people happy.

You know how you sometimes get a song in your head and can’t get it out? Well, thinking about happiness as much as I have been lately reminded me of an old song my friends and I use to sing when we were kids. All I could remember were a few lines: 

“Happiness is…two kinds of ice cream. Finding your skate key. Tying your shoes for the very first time…”

After having those few lines, the only lines I could actually remember, playing over and over in my head like a scratched record, I decided to google it and see if I could find the lyrics. In my old age, I wondered if it was even a real song or if instead, it was one of those silly rhymes we young girls used to make up along with even sillier, complicated hand clapping routines. Remember THOSE?

Anyway, I went to trusty old google (what in the world did any of us ever do in the days before google??) and I typed in “happiness is two kinds of ice cream” and right away, a link to a you tube video came up. Score! It is a real song! As I listened, I found myself singing along (in my mind, don’t worry!). How quickly those fun verses came back to me. As I listened, I imagined that as kids, that was a wonderful song because it covers  anything and everything that can make a kid happy:  Climbing a tree. Learning to whistle (I never  did). Catching a firefly. Finding a nickel.

Such simple things make children happy, and that is one of the many things that is so great about them. Now that I have forced myself really think about it, it really is simple things that make me as an adult, and I suspect most adults, happy too. Before I go into those things though, my ADD is kicking in, and I’m going to post the complete lyrics to the song:

Happiness is two kinds of ice cream
Finding your skate key, telling the time
Happiness is learning to whistle
Tying your shoe for the very first time
Happiness is playing the drum in your own school band
And happiness is walking hand in hand

Happiness is five different crayons
Knowing a secret, climbing a tree
Happiness is finding a nickel
Catching a firefly, setting him free
Happiness is being alone every now and then
And happiness is coming home again

Happiness is morning and evening
Daytime and nighttime, too

For happiness is anyone and anything at all
That's loved by you

Happiness is having a sister
Sharing a sandwich
Getting along
Happiness is singing together when day is through
And happiness is those who sing with you

Happiness is morning and evening
Daytime and nighttime, too
For happiness is anyone and anything at all
That's loved by you

I dare anyone to not be able to smile while reading those words.

 While the whole song makes me happy, the line that had the most impact on me right now is the final one: 

For happiness is anyone, and anything, that’s loved by you.

 So, on that note, I made a list of things that make me happy. It’s sad that it took me a long time to come up with this list.

 Doing something creative.

Cooking delicious food

Doing something nice for someone else

Walking in my front door to a clean, cozy, welcoming home

Having free time to myself to do whatever I want. Or to not do anything at all.

Reading a good book

Talking to a friend

Feeling loved

Playing a game with the kids

Playing with the dog

Writing

I’m sure I can come up with more, but those are a few simple, basic things that I really know without a doubt make me happy. And the interesting thing I realized as I wrote that list is that not one of those things is dependent on anyone else. And they aren’t dependent on any of my above scenarios that I often tell myself, “I will be happy when____.” None of them. I can do most any of those things whether or not our bank account has enough money in it and whether or not I’m stressed out at work. In fact, most of those things I listed above are easy ways to take my mind off of those things that stress me out.

This time last year, I wrote about how I don’t like making New Year’s resolutions because I always feel like a failure at the end of the year when I don’t keep any of them. This year, I am making a resolution, and only one. That is to refer to this list often and to regularly do something from it. There are plenty of ways I can indulge my creativity, my love for cooking, and my joy in doing things for others. The only thing I worry about on that list is my love for coming home to a clean house. Unfortunately, the only real way to make that happen is to hire a cleaning lady, and I can’t afford THAT.

I guess there are some things that do require money to bring happiness.

Random Ramblings...

I feel like I have ADD these days, so I decided that rather than try to write on any one topic, I will just go where ever my thoughts lead me.

Stress Relief…

I went shopping yesterday and bought supplies for the weekend:

 

 The brick dedication ceremony is tomorrow, and I am dedicating today to laundry and baking. I have a few new recipes I am anxious try: Pumpkin Apple Streusel Muffins, Overnight Pumpkin French Toast, Buttered Toffee Popcorn, Lasagne Soup and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Brownies. My children are going to be happy today. Very, very happy! Those little pumpkins are in my oven right now filling the house with their yummy aroma.

 Cozy Weather…

It has been a truly glorious fall. We have had the kind of weather that makes me want to go buy new sweaters and take my slippers and flannel pj pants out of storage. The kind of weather that makes me wrap myself in a quilt and head out to the front porch with a cup of coffee. After the steamy hot summer we had, I have thoroughly enjoyed these lovely fall days, and I am sad that they are dwindling.

One Saturday morning, after picking Rachel up from cross country practice, I took a drive through Babler State Park, and the trees were delightfully decked out in their fall finery. I haven’t been there in years, and it was kind of nice to take a leisurely ride through the park. I rolled the windows down a bit even though it was cold because it smelled so wonderful…like crisp fall leaves, and I couldn’t resist. I rarely drive just for the sake of driving, and it brought back memories of Sunday drives with my Grandma and Grandpa Fulk. I don’t think I was ever there on a Sunday that didn’t involve a drive after church and lunch. At the time, I thought they were so boring. My grandpa always drove around Olney so slow, and we kids used to tease him that his car sounded like a sewing machine. The only reason we really tolerated Grandpa’s snail-paced Sunday drives is because they almost always ended at the Dairy Queen. I really enjoyed my drive that Saturday morning when I had nowhere to be and nothing pressing on my to-do list. I think I need to do that more often. Rachel reminded me of when I was a kid tooling around town with my Grandpa. She was bored silly, told me it was dumb to “just drive,” and I bribed her by telling her if she would let me drive and stop complaining, I’d stop on the way home and buy her hot chocolate and a donut. It worked. I won’t say she enjoyed it--in fact she put on her headphones, turned on her iPod, and spent most of the drive texting. Oh, and she spent a great deal of time rolling her eyes every time I pulled over on the side of the road to take a picture. I can only imagine what she was texting to her friends. “OMG, like you won’t, like BELIEVE what my lame mother is, like making me do right now!” Oh well. I may have to spend some more time teaching her the art of the Sunday drive! She’ll be thrilled, I just know it. I wanted to take more pictures, but I was afraid if Rachel did much more eye-rolling, her eyes would be stuck in permanent eye-roll position. I know that with her attitude these days, that  might come in handy for her.

 

 

 

Thankful…

Today, I am thankful that after my written meltdown a couple of days ago, I have had some much better days. It might have been so because I had such a busy day at work on Thursday with barely a minute to sit and breathe much less think as well as a day full of errands yesterday. Whatever the reason, I’ll take it!

I am also thankful for a friend of a friend who took time out of her Saturday last week to meet us at Creve Coeur Lake to take pictures for us. She didn't charge me anything, and she is going to give me all of the pictures she took on a CD. I love how they turned out, and I have looked at them so many times over the past few days. My heart is so full looking at these photos. I love all of  the pictures she took, but these two are my favorites:

 

 

 

Here's to a happy, hopefully tears and panic free Saturday! Right now, I have a counter full of baking ingredients shouting my name. 

 

 

Pride and Anxiety. With a Big Dollop of Fear on Top.

For the past 5 months, I have had time to mentally prepare myself for the boys leaving for the Navy. I thought I had prepared myself.

 I was wrong. Boy, was I wrong.

I already wrote a silly, emotional post about Brandon leaving, but that was before he left. I thought writing THAT gave me another step up on the preparation ladder.

I was wrong.

Nothing that I have thought or written about prepared me for how gut wrenching and hard it would be for me giving him that last hug and saying that last I love you and  I am proud of you.

Nothing.

I dropped him off Monday afternoon at the Navy recruiting office, and I thought that would be the hardest part.

I was wrong.

Tuesday morning, I had the great honor and privilege of watching my oldest child be sworn into the US Navy. When I arrived at the Robert A. Young Federal Building in St. Louis, I wasn’t sure what to expect. After going through security, I was directed to the 10^th floor, and there I found Brandon sitting in a chair in a room full of about 20 other recruits who were either watching tv or sleeping. Brandon told me they had been there, just sitting there, since 6:30 AM. It was 9 when I arrived. At 9:30 the first group was called back, and Brandon was part of that group. I was directed to a waiting room along with the other parents who were there. After I read a book for about 20 minutes, we were called into a room across the hall, where I saw this

 

I was surprised by the room…I thought it would be more “official” looking, but it was just a room with a podium at the front flanked by flags on each side. We were told we could take photographs, so I snapped a few.

After they were each sworn in and told, “Congratulations! You are now a member of the United States military,” it was sort of anti-climatic, and everyone began taking pictures.

 The new soldier/sailors were then ushered into an adjoining room to be “processed,” and we once again had to wait. And wait.

 The waiting gave me way too much time to think. I met another couple who was sending their only child off to Army boot camp. I had a wonderful conversation with the dad, who is retired from the Army and used to be a drill sergeant at boot camp. He did his best to assure me that boot camp is harder on moms than on the guys, and he told me that most new recruits end up really enjoying boot camp after the initial toughness of the first week.

I drove home in a much calmer mood than I had been in that morning on my way there when I felt like I needed one of those bags they give you on a plane in case you get sick. That calmness stayed with me throughout most of the day, however, as it wore on, panic began to set in, and I thought of every single little thing that can go wrong while Brandon is at boot camp. I tried to distract myself by playing games and looking for recipes on the internet, but it didn’t work. I was too jittery and too restless to read, and I sat here feeling lonely and worried.

Sigh. And I get to go through this all over again in 2 weeks.

I don’t think I’ll be as worried about Justin, though. I have sooo very many worries about Brandon. He’s always had a difficult time making friends and middle school and high school were not good years for him. I want the Navy to be really awesome for him. I want it to be something that makes him feel proud of himself…GOOD about himself. Better than he has ever felt about himself. I want it to be life changing in a great way. I am so afraid, though, that it’s going to end up being one more thing that makes him feel like crap. I worry that he will be teased and will end up regretting that he joined the Navy. I worry that he won’t be able to “hack” it, and he will be discharged and sent home. I feel so protective of him right now, more protective than I have ever felt, and the thought of him being away for so long, experiencing God knows what, quite honestly scares the shit out of me.

 Sigh. Again.

I had thought/hoped that the anticipation of him leaving would be the worst part of the whole thing, but it’s not. I had thought/hoped that once he was gone, my stomach knots would unclench and I would settle in and get used to it and relax. But, I am feeling worse with each passing hour. My stomach is upset. I’ve had a headache for 2 days. I can’t sleep. I have no one to tell these things. Who isn’t going to think I’ve gone over the edge if I tell them those things??? I feel so silly for feeling this way, but I don’t remember a time when I have felt so incredibly anxious. It’s going to be hard not knowing what is going on with him for 8 weeks. So hard! I don’t know how I’m going to make it to be honest.

Sigh. Again.

I am trying to focus on how wonderful so many people are being to me right now. All of my co-workers text me to see how I am doing, and give me a hug when I get to work. Tuesday morning, all of my aunts, my cousin and my sister texted me early in the morning to see how I was holding up. They also texted me throughout the day, and last night, one of my aunts texted me again to see how I was doing. I text them back and say I am fine because if I told them the truth about how I  am REALLY feeling, they'd probably call the men in white coats. Unfortunately, my mother has been strangely silent, but I guess that shouldn’t surprise me.

Sigh. AGAIN.

I am getting too carried away, so I am going to stop. I pray that in 9 weeks, I will read this and laugh at my silliness. For now, I’m going to hold onto this image of  Brandon. When I first arrived Tuesday morning, he had an exhausted, deer-in-the-headlights-oh-shit-what-have-I-done look on his face. I had a difficult time even looking at him after that because I wanted to grab him by the arm and drag him away. Thankfully, once the swearing in was over, he was all smiles. I love this picture of him, and I printed a copy of it to carry in my purse.

 

 

To Everything, Turn, Turn, Turn...

There is a season…

 Most of the time, I welcome the change of seasons with wide-open arms. I delight in nothing more than I delight in a cold, drab winter turning to a cheerful, warm, colorful spring. I look forward to rainy spring days evolving into glorious, flower-strewn sunshiny summer days. I literally wallow in joyful bliss when late summer oppressive heat and humidity flows into the glorious gift of a cool, crisp, brightly-colored blue-skied fall. The only season change I do not like, at all, is fall turning into winter. I have no flowery descriptive words to describe that change other than these words: I hate winter. HATE it. Not a big revelation to anyone who knows me.

So, how ironic it is that the seasons of my life are undergoing a major transition just as we are heading into my most dreaded season. Maybe I would be handling the idea of the boys going off to Navy boot camp much better if they were going in the spring or summer. Maybe I would be ecstatic if they were leaving on the cusp of fall.

Yeah, those are the things I’ve been telling myself.

Honestly, these changes that are about to be would be difficult no matter what time of the year they were happening. I know my nest is only going to be half empty, but I already know that I am not going to make a good empty nester.

I’m going to be blunt. I am dreading the coming days and weeks.

I know, as parents, the real, most important job we have is to raise our children into productive, happy adults. The fun we have along the way is really just icing on the cake, isn’t it?

My mind knows that, but my heart these days hasn’t really agreed with me.

These days, my heart has traveled back in time to 1991 when I first gazed upon the precious face of the baby in my arms who was looking at me with an amazing wide-eyed wonder that matched my own.

These days, my heart has swiftly traveled back in time to the many fun years I enjoyed when my kids were little and each day flowed sweetly into another…when the years with my children were spread out endlessly before me…when the thought of my boys joining the United States Navy was not even the briefest flicker in my mind.

These days, my heart has traveled back to days when Brandon and I spent every waking moment together before Justin, and then Lauren and then Rachel came along and joined the Carlson family…days when my knees were scraped from crawling around making sidewalk chalk masterpieces on the driveway and my hair was soaked after he chased me around the yard with his toy fire hydrant that hooked up to our hose. Days when I slung him on my hip and we danced around the living room over and over to Achy Breaky Heart, his favorite song when he was three. Days of snuggling on the couch and watching  Disney and Winnie the Pooh videos. Days and nights of cuddling him on my lap and reading books like "Where the Wild Things Are" and "Green Eggs and Ham." Days of swinging him at the park while he threw his head back and squealed with joy.

Those  are days that are so very clear in MY mind, yet are not in his mind at all because he was too little to remember them. And I doubt he would want me to remind him of those days anyway. So, I remember them by my lonesome little self.

 
Now, in just a few short days (4 to be exact) he will be gone. I am so proud that he chose to do this. But, while I am proud, I am so nervous and worried…with a stomach full of knots. I pray that he thoroughly loves being in the Navy. I worry about whether or not he can handle the physical aspect of boot camp. I worry about whether he will “fit in” and makes some friends. Most of all, I worry about the things that I assume most parents worry about when their child joins the military:  Will he stay safe? What hardships is he going to have to endure? Will he experience things that will damage him, physically or mentally.

 Mixed up with all of the worries there is excitement for the adventures and experiences he is going to have. There are also the prayers…prayers that we have provided for him the most important things a parent can provide for their children—a loving home that he will look forward to returning to. A good foundation that will ensure that he makes good decisions when he is out on his own.

 
I am feeling quite weepy now, so I am going to end this. I guess Part 2 of this will come in a few weeks when Justin is ready to leave. I’ve had almost 5 months to prepare for these days, and I started to believe I would be okay when the time actually arrived. I knew it would be hard, but I really had no inkling of just how emotional and hard it really would be.

Goodbye, Summer...Hello, Fall

Goodbye, summer…

This will likely be the first (and last!) time I say this:

I am glad summer is over.

I will probably be paid back for those words tenfold in the next few months when Mother Nature dumps on me the worst, coldest, snowiest, iciest winter ever. But I don’t care. Right now, at this moment, I am glad summer is over, for lots of reasons that don’t really matter. I’m ready to move on to a new season, and I love the clear, crisp days of fall with their bright blue skies and mild temperatures.

I actually “celebrated” the last day of summer for the first time ever. I was ready to say, “Adios!” to pots of droopy sad flowers and brown crunchy grass and mosquito bites and 110 degree days and $300 plus electric bills. On the last day of summer, I drove to one of my favorite places—Theis Farm—and I bought a big bag of peaches and a big bag of apples and a couple of pumpkins. I came home and said a fond fare-thee-well to summer by baking a peach upside down cake and covering it with homemade vanilla ice cream and homemade caramel sauce with cinnamon. Oh my heavens…that dessert was a perfectly yummy last hurrah before I began filling my house with the aromas of apples and pumpkins and simmering pots of soup.

 Which brings me to Hello, fall…

Cooler days have settled upon us. I am so grateful for that as a couple of weeks ago, our air conditioner decided that it needs a rest from the summer heat. I don’t blame it one bit--*I* need a rest from the summer heat. I am quite thankful that it chose a cooler time to go on sabbatical rather than a couple of weeks ago when it was still near 100 degrees every day.

The first day of fall was Lauren’s birthday, and she wanted to spend it baking cookies. What better way to spend the first day of fall, huh? She had a basketball game that afternoon, and she wanted to take cookies to her team. She gave a little tug at my heartstrings when she told me, “When we were little, you always made cupcakes if we had a game on our birthday, and I’m kind of sad you don’t do that anymore.”

I did do that. On one of her birthdays, I made cupcakes that looked like basketballs. I remember several birthdays of Justin’s and Rachel’s when the big day fell on gameday, and I decorated cupcakes to look like baseballs. While I don’t miss sitting on metal bleachers in the sweltering sun, I do miss baking those cupcakes. One year, instead of giving the cupcakes red baseball stitching, I used bright pink for Rachel’s birthday. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling to know that the kids miss that, too. It seemed like such a little thing at the time, but I have found that little things are often the biggest things of all.

So on Lauren’s birthday, she had her good friend Mary over to bake cookies. I admit, I cringed a bit when she told me Saturday morning that was how she wanted to spend her day. I was home mostly alone all day on Friday, and Saturday morning as well, which meant my house was pretty clean. My kitchen was sparkling and immaculate, which so rarely happens.

 

The thought of Lauren baking was not a pleasant one as she is a very messy cook. I bit back my initial reaction of “oh, Hell NO you aren’t baking today!” put on a happy face and told her I thought that was a fabulous idea. The smile on her face when she said “Really?” was worth any mess I knew would ensue. Mary came over, they baked two batches of chocolate chip cookies, they made a mess that mostly I cleaned up, but they had a blast, and it was worth it.

Other than cookie baking, on the first days of fall, I turned my pots of sad petunias into pots of autumn splendor. Not really, but I like that word…splendor. It just has a nice ring to it. My pots may not be splendorous, but they certainly look better now than they did when they were spilling over with yucky brown plants.

 

 

Now, they look like this

 

 

I also bought some mums. I love these orange mums. Usually, I buy yellow and red mums, but this color just jumped out at me. I've never seen it before. It's called Outrageous Orange. How could I pass those up?

 

 

 

I really got carried away. I've never planted so many flowers in the fall. Normally, I just buy a few pots of mums and put them on the porch surrounded by a few pumpkins. This year though, maybe because my summer flowers were such a bust and didn't do well in the heat and drought, I couldn't stop myself. I bought some pansies and small ferns for hanging baskets on the porch. I love pansies but rarely plant them. It gets too hot here, and they don't usually last long. I can't wait to see how these pots look in a few weeks.

 

 

 

I even planted the hanging pots on each side of the garage door with some new life. At the nursery, I saw a plant I'd never seen before called Japanese Fern. I love it, and it looks like it will end up bushy and trailing over the pot. I added the orange flowers for some color. I've never planted those either, and I'm not even sure what they are called. They caught my eye because they look so cheerful.

 

 







The inside of my house is just as decked out as the porch, but I didn't even wait for fall to bring out the fall decorations. Every year, I end up loving my decorations and take pictures so that NEXT year, I will be able to recreate it all. Then, NEXT year arrives, I look at the pictures, and mostly do everything totally different. This year was no exception. I guess since I love decorating for fall, I am always on the lookout for something new. This year, thanks to Pinterest, I had all sorts of new ideas. Unfortunately, my house isn’t big enough to incorporate them all. Neither  is my budget. This though, was something I saw on Pinterest that I knew I had to do. I thought it was so clever, and cheap too. Cheap and clever. Two of my favorite words.

I spent less than three bucks, and I love it. All it cost me was 88 cents for a bag of split peas, 88 cents for a bag of dried red beans, and $1.50 for a bag of popcorn.

 While I have been enjoying the cooler first days of fall, I am also feeling a bit down. My life is changing along with the seasons, and I am not sure I am up for or ready for the changes that are coming. I can only remember one time in my life when I have been more apprehensive about what the future holds for me, and it’s not a good feeling at all. I have tried, but I can’t seem to put my feelings into words on this subject. My marriage is changing, the boys are leaving…some days, I feel like it’s all too much at once. Too much change. Change is supposed to be a good thing, and I do have faith that in the long run, the changes we are going through now will end up in very good places. That is what is keeping me going right now

 I will end this post with a list of joyful simplicities since I haven’t done that for a while:

Finding the first bags of pumpkin coffee at the grocery store.

Turning this

 

 

into a crock pot full of homemade applesauce. Oh, it was so delicious! I’ve always wanted to make it, but I never have. It was yummy warmed up and poured over pancakes, and the kids told me I can't ever buy applesauce again because it's too good.

Discovering a pile of sugar pie pumpkins at Schnucks. They are sitting on my counter ready to be baked into all sorts of yummy pumpkin-y treats.

New glasses

 

 

 Last year just after Thanksgiving, I bought these glasses. When they were delivered, I was in the midst of decorating for Christmas, and I so I packed them away. I forgot about them until a few weeks ago when I was unpacking my fall decorations. What a surprise! I love them. At the same time, I bought this little dish. I think I could have a new addiction, to amber glass. Thank goodness I have no room to store more dishes. I love dishes, especially old dishes, but that's a topic for another time.

I started knitting a new scarf. A couple of years ago, I knitted this really wonderful twirly scarf. I love it, and I decided to make the same one in a colorful yarn. I do hate winter, but I love scarves. Especially scarves I knit myself. :-) Another addiction. Maybe that should be my next blog post--Crazy Things Rose is Addicted To.

 Last week, I went to a bead show for the first time. Holy Moly…it was so overwhelming, and I was almost high on bling. I was smart and took cash and left my debit card at home. I did buy some beads, and I am anxious to get started on creating something with them. And, I was proud of myself because I didn't even spend all of the money I took. Not even half of it! I know, what's wrong with me?

 

 

Nothing says "fall" quite like a cross country meet on a beautiful Saturday morning.

 

 

Enjoying a rainy day. Yeah, something else I don’t typically write, especially when it is dreary and chilly on my day off. But today, I have enjoyed it. The kids slept in because they are on fall break, I got a ton of laundry done, I watched a movie, and I baked a batch of brownies. I had planned on going for a long bike ride on the Katy Trail, so I was pretty disappointed when thunder and a downpour woke me this morning, but I decided to make the best of it. I haven’t left the house or even gotten out of my sweatshirt and pajama pants.

Oh, and best of all, I’ve had some uninterrupted time to sit down and write. It seems the more I take the time to write, the more I seem to have to write about, and I’ve got a whole list of topics I’m looking forward to writing about. J

 

October (My most clever title ever, right?)

I’m taking on a project this month that I feel kind of strange, yet strangely good about.

October is most commonly known as breast cancer awareness month, and everywhere one looks, there is a sea of pink. Everywhere, we are bombarded with everything from pink grocery bags to pink kitchen gadgets to pink wine bottle labels. This year, I keep hearing about pink light bulbs to put in your outdoor lights. What most people don’t know however is that it is also pregnancy and infant loss awareness month, signed into being by Ronald Reagan in 1988.

It’s no secret to anyone that I have experienced four miscarriages. They were many years ago, and I don’t think of those babies as much as I used to. I don’t often talk about what I went through, but there are times at work, especially this time of year, that thoughts of them are just right there, the memories and details as clear as if they happened only last week. Fall has always been the time I think of them the most--my first loss happened Labor Day weekend, the second was late in September a few years later, the third happened on New Year’s Eve, but I had gotten pregnant in September, and the fourth…well, that baby was due on Halloween.

Back then, I didn’t know about Share, I had no support whatsoever, and I had nothing tangible to remember those babies by. I had no ultrasound photos, no nothing. Not even a card because no one sent me one. I went on with my life like I was expected to do. I had more kids like I was expected to do. I was happy, and if thoughts of sadness found their way too close, I quickly pushed them away. Not only did I push them away, but I thought I must really be crazy for  still having those thoughts.

What I didn’t expect when I began volunteering at Share years later was how forcefully some of those long-buried feelings would come rushing back at me and that I would no longer be able to easily push them away. The first few months I spent at Share were rough, and I often drove home in tears, wondering how I would be able to go back. They were rough, but healing--healing in ways I never realized I needed to be healed. Part of that healing was realizing that I really wasn't crazy, that almost every other woman who had lost a baby, no matter  how far along in pregnancy, had most of the same feelings I had experienced. Something else I learned in those early months so many years after my miscarriages is that grieving cannot be avoided. Whether you do it at the time, or years later, you have to eventually do it; there is no way around it.

 Not long after I began volunteering at Share, I spent the day with a huge group of women preparing the newsletter to be mailed. It was mid-October, and the newsletter was the holiday edition. A few articles caught my eye, and after everyone left, I began reading. I was so intrigued by the different ways parents memorialized their baby, even babies who had died in the first trimester. The thought had never crossed my mind to do something tangible in remembrance of my miscarried babies.

In the many years since those long ago early days at Share, I have become very passionate about helping grieving parents come up with unique and meaningful ways to memorialize their babies, and I even teach a workshop on the topic. Whenever a parent calls to talk who has had an early loss, I always ask them if they have done anything special to memorialize their baby and try to give them ideas. One of my favorite things about my job is the memorial/burial service for miscarried babies that we do four times each year in collaboration with one of our local funeral homes. It is so touching to see the outpouring of support these families have, and the ceremony always leaves me with a warm feeling in my heart as I go about the rest of my day.

While I still haven’t done much to memorialize my own little ones, the love I have for them shines through in the things I help others do. I kind of feel at times like I am doing these things for myself as well as the parents I help, and I often wonder who is really being helped…me or them?

Which brings me to my project for the month of October. Someone who is prominent in the online world of helping grieving families has set up what she calls “Capture Your Grief” in honor of pregnancy and infant loss awareness. The idea is to take a photograph each day for the entire month and post it on a special facebook page that she set up just for this purpose. She posted a list of topics on her blog—suggestions for what to take photographs of for 31 days. Many of the topics don’t really seem relevant to me now, but I decided to take part in it anyway. I really don’t want to share what I take pictures of on the facebook page, so I decided to post them here.

Sooo….here is my picture, a day late, from day 1, of the sunrise on October 1, 2012. That was right up my alley since I love watching the sunrise and I often take pictures of it anyway. Unfortunately, yesterday was gray and gloomy, so there wasn’t a pretty sunrise. I took a picture anyway

 

 

And I loved it. Then, about 20 minutes later, I happened to glance out the kitchen window, and there must have been a small opening in the clouds and the sun was illuminating the trees.

 

I love that photo, and I see so many things when I look at it. For one, we have been hearing that the fall color would not amount to much this year due to the extremely hot, dry summer. Yet here are these beautiful golden trees right outside my kitchen window; they are the only trees in our neighborhood that have really changed color yet. The other thing I couldn’t help but be aware of is the juxtaposition of those bright, golden trees against the gray, ominous sky. It almost seemed perfect for the beginning of this project; it made me think of how even in the midst of grief, there are bright spots, even though they are often hard to notice.

 I can honestly say I no longer grieve the loss of those four babies. I do think of them, yes. I do wonder how different my life would have been if they wouldn’t have graced it for the short time they did. When I look back upon that time of my life, it is hard to believe I survived it. I look back now and think of the numerous gifts I feel I was given by their brief presence. They changed me in ways I would never have imagined years ago. At the time, I only saw the negative changes—the anger and jealousy I felt when I had never in my life been an angry or jealous person; the loss of innocence that I wanted to have back; the loss of joy and happiness that I just knew would never be mine again; the fear that permeated every aspect of my being. So many negative things that I couldn’t envision myself ever getting past. Yet I have. I read somewhere years ago that time doesn’t heal all wounds, it only teaches a person to live with them. I believe that with all of my heart and soul. I look at the years since my losses as a gift of time…time that has enabled me to see not only the negative ways I changed, but also the positive and good ways my life changed that I would never have imagined. While I used to think I must be nuts for always remembering those babies after so many years, I have now come to accept that I will always remember, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. So much of who I am is because of them, and I accept that.

That is why I decided to take part in Carly Marie’s Capture your Grief project.And like I said at the beginning, I feel strange about it, yet strangely good. I don’t know how many days I will capture, but I’m looking forward to trying most of the ideas. And I am curious where it will take me and how I will interpret her suggestions for each day.