Smiling inside

My girls are at volleyball clinic right now and I get to watch them today. Watching them learn the skills in this game and doing it together is so cool. There's a Subaru commercial where the dad is talking to his little girl probly three or four years old in the drivers seat of his car about how to drive. Then he tosses her the keys and all of a sudden she is 16 as she backs out of the driveway and takes off. That's how I feel all the time almost. In whatever they do, when I look at them. I see them as a 5 and 3-year-old. Their personalities in many ways have not changed a bit. So when I see Emma trying to learn to serve the volleyball and asking the coach for advice or when I see the coach teaching a skill and see Karly gawking off at another court, I see my little girls and smile to myself. I love it. This is so cool watching them grow and learn. I can't imagine living life without this feeling. I'm thinking though that I will always see them as my little girls, just like the car commercial.

Right Where I Am: Three years, one month, one week

Angie started this project last year.  I'm participating this year....Thank you Angie.  BTW, hope you do a VLOG again--I wouldn't miss it this time, I promise!

I miss my little man.  Constantly.  Not a day goes by when I don't think of him.  Sometimes I feel like I miss him more each day.  Sometimes I feel like it gets "easier".  The reminders, the triggers, are all the time. E.V.E.R.Y.D.A.Y.  I was at the park the other day with one of the kids' classes and was on the toddler playground with Owen.  Following him around everywhere, practically, because he's that kid.  He'd take a step off the top of the ladder just to see what happens, I'm afraid.  Or maybe I'm just afraid.  Anyway, a mom was helping her little boy up the slide and we exchanged ages of the boys and small comments about their outgoing personalities.  She said something along the lines of, "he's the youngest of three boys so he is going to have all kinds of bumps and bruises keeping up with and learning from his older brothers."  My brain stopped for a second. I had never thought of it that way.  Owen is the youngest of three boys, too.  I smiled to myself and agreed with the mom.  And a tinge of sadness settled in my heart.  The things Owen could be learning from Chase right now....

My uncle is/was deathly ill.  He's a heart transplant patient from over a decade ago, has recently had a kidney transplant (because that's what you get to look forward to when you get a new heart eventually) and unfortunately got a really bad infection in his system a week ago.  He was on the verge of death.  I was sad because I know my uncle pretty well.  I mean I grew up with him, even though I haven't spent much time with him in the last 15 years.  His health declined and my mom was talking about the issues they are dealing with.  Talking about what happens if he doesn't make it through his next surgery or the next one.  I was sad for him, until one day I found myself going through pictures of Chase I came across.  And the tears poured.  My thought was that he would get to see Chase soon.  That thought was comforting, but made me miss my boy even more.

So these are a couple instances as of late, but they happen all the time.  I am a happy mom.  I love my kids more than anything and can't wait until they get home from school.  I am so excited for summer.  But the cloud is always there.  No matter how sunny it is outside.  It's just how I live.  I heard someone say, "it was my worst mother's day ever."  And, though I was sorry for them, I thought of my worst mother's day ever--less than a month after Chase died.  I wish it wasn't like that.

I look at other 3-year-olds and try to see my boy.  I look at Owen, and see Chase just 20 months older than him and I imagine what he would look like, act like, sound like.  I miss him.  As much as I ever did.  But I am happy.  A happiness that took me a while to find again.  I can talk about him to strangers without crying.  I try to include him whenever anyone asks how many children I have, but not always.  And I never look at anyone without knowing that they have a story behind their shell, as well.  No matter how happy, how sad, how mean or how nice they are.  This I can thank Chase for.

I see my grief as a plateau kind of.  I have moments here and there of greater sadness and of course the holidays are bigger peaks.  But I am thankful that my kids and my husband and my whole family talk about him so much that his name isn't unspoken.  He's a part of our family.  Just as my grief is a part of my life.  It will never go away completely.

Linking up with Angie at Still life with Circles.  Thank you friend!

Five Minute Friday: Real

I just want to start out by saying I spent some time over at The Gypsy Mama earlier this week and was lucky enough to read this post.  It was like getting that extra shot when you really need it--like the raise at Christmas time, the compliment when you are feeling ugly, the salty after you've eaten the sweet, the cheer when you are finishing the race.  I bookmarked it...to go back to when I need that again.  
I'm going to do 5 Minute Friday again...missed last week and I wish I hadn't.  I still want to go back and do that one some time.  Here goes my unedited, raw feeling fun this week (btw, my 5 minutes doesn't include the 15 it took to find and choose a photo!):

GO
Sometimes balloons really do reach heaven.
Love.  Human error.  Forgiveness.  Not perfect. These are all real to me.    
The soft skin of my baby's little feet.  Running around the house.  Pitter patter like music to my ears.
Puberty.  My oldest is growing up.  We have adult like conversations.   The looks she gives me.  The knowing looks.
Hormones.  My second oldest is moody.  Just like I was.  And am.
Pure.  My boy--just turned 7.  Not a baby anymore.  Loves me and the only one in the family who doesn't like to upset me.  He really regrets it if he does anyway.  
Family--my sister won't talk to me.  Do we get to an age where our sisters are secondary?  When our kids are old enough to have those adult conversations, do we not need our sisters anymore?  Or does it just take more work?
Future--worrying about what lies ahead.  Is it worth it?  I'm nearly 40 and really I just go with the flow.  Truly.
Questions.  You have to ask them to figure out what is real.  Evaluate.  
Blue skies.  Sound of the lawnmower.  Images of summer in my head.  Picnics with Patric and the kids.  Butterflies.  Clouds.  REAL.
STOP
Okay, that is much harder than you think.  I'm not very good at this activity yet, but i figure practice will only help.  I'm learning to think about it before I actually start typing.  Maybe that's not how best to do it but I'll try anyway.  I just love topics to make you think and that don't give you any borders or guidelines. It's kinda like life.  It's overwhelming what there is you can think about and write about.  But you have to pick something and go with it.  Or just let it flow from your fingers and wing it!  Now off to read someone else's post! 

Sent to Heaven

Owen walked around with a balloon all day from my nieces birthday party last night and when we finally took it off of him, I guess he was done with it, Karly took it. And went to work. She wrote on it and drew pictures and went around asking everyone if they wanted to send a message to Chase. When she was ready, she released it and we all watched the balloon go. It was pretty impressive. It was a dark blue balloon in an almost cloudless sky and the balloon went straight up from us. We watched the balloon for about 20 minutes. We watched it shrink to smaller than a pinhead, floating in a impressively straight path. There were no trees, no clouds, nothing to obstruct our view of it the entire flight. It was like watching it go straight up to heaven. I could almost see it float into Chase's hands. It is so cool that Owen could share his balloon with his brother. So it is in my eyes anyway...

Making Memories of their own

The kids left me today.  Took off for, oh, I don't know, probably 15 minutes before I knew where they were.  They left, told me where they were going which I was okay with and I went on with my work.  Then decided to check on them after getting Owen down and they were not where they said they'd be.  

I hollered a few times.  

Nothing.

I rode around on my bike, not too far from the house.  

Nothing.  

I went back up where they told me and hollered again.

Nothing.

And then finally I hear, "yeah, mom, we're coming!"

A big sigh.  And then they tell me where they were.  

Chase-a-topia.  

They miss Pearsolonia more than ever.  It's their old hideout where we used to live.  It was basically a dirt hill behind our house but their enchanting hideaway nonetheless.  They have many memories of it.  

And then I realize these memories....they are theirs.  I remember when all their memories had me in them. But not anymore.  They are busy.  Busy making their own memories and I'm no where in sight even.  I can hear it, "remember that one time when mom had no idea where we were? That was when we found Chase-a-topia!"  Reese showed up with shells of some crawdad-looking thing and enough excitement in his voice to tell me this was an important voyage.  It was a perfect opportunity for a lecture on informing mom of your whereabouts at all times....but also a lightbulb moment for me, too.  They are creative little creatures, my kids.  Give them the world to explore and it is amazing what they will find.  And Chase is never far from those memories.