Between The Rainbows And The Rain

3/10/2014 Yesterday was the 9th anniversary of the passing of a legend. A rodeo man, a true cowboy. A very talented musician an excellent performer and song writer. A great man, a country boy. To the rest of the world, anyway. He was also someone's husband, someone's father, someone's hero. He chose his family over fame and fortune. And he will always have my respect. I was first introduced to his music by my neighbor at 15 years old. Is it funny that I still remember that moment? I had been babysitting their kids and we were talking as I was leaving and she asked if I knew who Chris LeDoux was. I didn't. She was so excited to share with me! She screamed in shock and and kept saying "Oh Suzie, you'll love him!" over and over while she found the CD to play for me. The song she played was County Fair. And I LOVED IT! A few months later they were going to one of his concerts a few hours south of where we lived. She invited me to go, she was so excited! It was just her and her husband and I felt awkward about that, I was also really shy and wasn't sure what we'd talk about for 5 hours of driving, lol, so I declined and stayed home to watch their kids. They brought me back a signed autograph, lol. It was so sweet! I think I still have it. There was such a crowd around Chris that they figured the picture was good enough so they began their exit. On their way out they ran into Chris's son Clay, and had him sign his dad's photo for me. That hung on my bedroom wall until I moved out of my parents home. :) As I began dating and making the "list" of things I was looking for in a man music was always on there in some form. I do love music. But I found over those years of dating that I never spent much time with anyone who didn't know who Chris LeDoux was, lol. I almost subconsciously made that one of my requirements. It was always one of the questions I'd ask at some point if I really liked someone. I remember the time I asked my Brian if he knew who Chris LeDoux was. He was a bit of a renegade, a claassic rock n roll kinda guy. He listened to AC/DC, Metallica, all the old school rock so I was completely floored when he answered. He replied with listing all of Chris LeDoux's albums and his favorite songs. LOL. I remember the day Chris Ledoux passed away. That same neighbor stopped by with a plate of cookies for me. We both cried. Anyway, anytime I think of Chris LeDoux it reminds me of my Brian. So today, as I was reminded about Chris LeDoux and the day he passed away, my mind was also with my love. I miss him.

Every birthday after I married him, I would wish on my birthday candles that we could always be together always. Every year. Every cattle guard. Every shooting star. Every dandelion. Every wish chip. Every lucky bite. Every lucky spoon... Sigh. I still do. I miss you, B.

Saying Good-bye

I wish I didn't fight it so badly. The truth is I take every opportunity I can to say good-bye now since Brian passed. I didn't get to say good-bye to him. I didn't get to say anything. Not even "Love you." He was up and gone before I was even completely awake. So I say it. I do. Yet still, I fight it. The anxiety builds. It's partly the desire to keep things "upbeat" and "happy." Some people request that. And that is good. But in my heart I really just want to lay down next to them, to hold them. To tell them that I love them. And cry.

"Karma's a b*@*#!"

How many times have I heard that?

So in meditation this morning I almost laughed out loud. When this thought flowed into my mind. Karma doesn't have to be a bitch. She doesn't. Karma can be the kindest and sweetest ever. Or she can be funny and genuine. Or she can thoughtful and giving. Because she is what we make her. What we give is what we receive. It is a law of the universe.

That's what meditating does for me. Gives me great moments of insight, hahaha. :)

SOMETIMES... out of the blue...

SIGH. It's been awhile since this has happened. And I'm not sure to whom I owe the thank you card. I'd like to thank SOMEBODY, haha. My old friend grief. As I've referred to him in the past. How am I ever surprised at his arrival? As my brother commented just before I logged off of Facebook. It isn't "sometimes... out of the blue...". It's ALWAYS out of the blue... It made me laugh out loud. He's right. It has been sometime since I have had tears hit me this hard, not being triggered by anything in particular. Ya know? I talk about Brian often. I read quotes everyday about loss. Love and loss. It's nothing new, really. To me. As I was brushing my teeth, sitting on my bed and trying not to let snot and tears get mixed with the toothpaste, I was thinking. (Which I don't know why I do, because it doesn't have to have a reason really, but nonetheless, I over think it). But I was thinking "why?". Why am I sad RIGHT NOW. It was kind of those sweet comments made by my an old friend on Facebook. It was kind of that video I watched of Jason changing Jax's diaper for the first time. It was kind of the blog post I read and commented on. Maybe it was kind of my subconscious realizing that the holidays are here? Maybe. Kind of. Sigh. Maybe it was kind of the accomplishments of the day. I finally ordered a shower door for my shower and in a girly kind of way felt like that was an accomplishment because I spent so much time trying to find the right one with the right measurements. I even watched a video on how to install them, haha. I called all the medical billing offices for my ER visit. THAT was a huge accomplishment and task that I'd been avoiding completely. Sigh. It was such a relief to get it done and get a few paid. I paid more bills. I made dinner. I made a homemade breakfast. AND I made home lunches. It was a good day. I accomplished a lot of things I needed to cross off my list and a few that just make me feel good. Like home lunches. A mommy date to Walmart with Gracie and helping Bree learn a song on the piano. So am I crying because it was a productive day and I feel relieved? Or am I crying because it was a productive day and I'm lonely? Or am I crying because it was a productive day and yet it wasn't enough? (As I type I am sitting on the floor, almost in the doorway of my room because I sold my small desk to make room for a better fitting desk, but still need to sell the other desk and the only desk left is bulky and the only spot it will fit in my room is the corner where all the boxes sit, still unpacked there contents unsure of where they belong, sigh). My list is still never ending of things I don't know how to do, things I am very capable of doing yet don't have time to do and things I simply don't want to do but need to? Not to mention the loving mother I want to be. I want to be less stressed. More joyful. Less distant. More present. And the older my children get, the more I worry. What have I lacked in teaching? In my example? Did they need more repetition? OF COURSE. And I didn't follow through. Sigh. I did fall short, I know that. Before the remarriage/divorce I did a lot of teaching, scripture study, family home evenings. I had an excitement and less doubt. I had trust and hope. In my weakness and recovery did they lose hope, too? I know I am not as strong as I once was. Sigh. And here we are with these struggles. It is getting better, and I thank my Father in Heaven for that blessing. But we are still far from "safe." Sigh. Yet. Wasn't it just yesterday I was telling myself that I haven't been this happy in awhile? A long while? I truly am, haha. I haven't been this content and at peace for years. Or ever, really. And for that I'm pleased. But in this moment. Sigh. For whatever reason... not sometimes, but always... out of the blue... all things point to you. I love you. I miss you. And I hope today was a good day wherever you are...

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman,
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn
-Veronica A. Shoftstall, 1971

The TRUTH.

The truth is, time doesn't heal all wounds. The truth is the scars will always remain and they are, on occasion scraped off leaving the wound open to bleed, once again. Not in the way that it was in the beginning, and not as often... but painful, still painful. The truth is, this life IS like a grain of sand in the eternal perspective of things. But it is also true that the small, tiny, minute grain of sand which is my earth life has often times found itself embedded in my eye causing pain, tears, turmoil, hurt and heartache. The truth is time really does fly. It goes by quickly without permission or care taking up all the memories with it. Yet at the same time it seems to crawl at a snails pace when my heart hurts my soul misses the physical presence of my love. The little moments of joking and teasing in the stillness of the night as we are drifting off to sleep. The terms of endearment. The physical and casual ways he would show me affection. It's his presence in all things, big and small, that I miss. For now we wait. We wait happily. We are definitely more happy on some days than others. But we do our best to endure cheerfully. It is a learning experience. Every time. My old friend Grief is a contradiction in himself. To have him near is comforting, it reassures me that we loved. We loved deeply. It reassures me that there is still love. That I haven't forgotten. Yet it is exhausting to feel it, and I am sometimes angry with his untimely visits. Yet he whispers "when would you have me come? have you made time for me? for healing?" So, I listen. And I learn. As I reflect on those visits I realize that with his parting and at the conclusion of each visit, I am left with a gift. Understanding. Compassion. Humility. Hope. Love. Unconditional love. Sacrifice. Memories. Connection. Belonging. Belonging... Isn't that what this is all about, anyway? All of that? And for that I am always grateful.