Yesterday was Christmas. It was a about as good as it could have been. I woke up early around 7:30 (I just can't sleep anymore and always wake up early even when I don't have to) got cleaned up and went and visited Aidan. We took Willie with us and dressed him in his Christmas sweater (yes, I am one of those people who puts clothes on their dogs; Willie is my only living child so whatever). He looked so cute. We brought a book with us called "You are my miracle" and read it to Aidan. It was very very cold yesterday and the wind was blowing fairly hard. The oak tree above Aidan's grave was practically bald from losing all of its leaves; leaves which no one cleans up, so I was constantly brushing off and pulling out leaves from Aidan's Christmas Arrangement. I also try and clean up the other kids' graves that are around him, I know they would do the same for Aidan. It seemed so strange to be at a cemetery on Christmas, but that is my life now. Other people on Christmas get up early make coffee and watch their children open up their gifts...I go to the cemetery and visit my son.
This was the first time that Andrew and I have brought Willie to visit Aidan and if other people had been there we wouldn't have actually taken Willie out of the car, but since no one was there and it was Christmas my sweet Willie joined us at Aidan's grave. This was the first time my entire family was together since July when Aidan was in my belly. I know Willie would have loved Aidan. He is such a gentle dog and doesn't mind it when the neighbor kids pull his ears; he just licks their faces and hands and will let them rub and love on him as much as they want. I know that Willie would have been the same with Aidan and once he would start to eat solid food, he would have been Aidan's best friend! :-) Willie is such a mooch and loves all people food (except for Asparagus and Spinach) so I know he would have been stationed under his highchair eating all the cheerios or other foods falling to the floor and would be jumping (literally) at the chance to lick Aidan's food filled face before I could wipe it. Not only did Andrew and I lose out on memories....but Willie did too.
We walked Willie to the back of Lullaby Land where Aidan is and as soon as we got there Willie went straight to Aidan's headstone and started licking and sniffing it. He passed by all the other head stones and went straight to Aidan's. It was as if he knew that his brother was there. I immediately started bawling and so did Andrew. We held Willie and talked to Aidan and read him his story. We told him how much we missed him and how this Christmas was supposed to be different. We told him how much we loved him and how we wished we could be together. How much his Mimi and Poppy miss him and love him and that we hope his Christmas in heaven is wonderful.....It was heartbreaking to be there, but it was wonderful because my whole family was there....together on Christmas.
We then piled back in the car and went home to open gifts. Santa Paws came for Willie (that's the Santa for dogs) and he brought him some bones shaped like candy canes, a new Christmas sweater, 2 new babies (stuffed reindeer that squeak) and some doggie cookies. He was very excited. Andrew got a new XBox 360 with Kinect from my mom and I bought him some games to go with it. He bought me Band Hero and a dance game and we spent the morning playing with our new toys....Yes, we are in our 30's...don't judge.
Finally around 1:00 we put away our new toys and started getting dinner ready. We hosted Christmas dinner this year for my parents and my uncle. My brother and his wife couldn't make it because my sister in law works retail and had to work the day before and the day after Christmas and they live in Oklahoma. It really sucked not having them here....especially since I made enough food for 10 people....I just don't know how to cook for a small number. This was our menu below...
Appetizers
Crab Cakes
Raspberry Chipotle Cheese Dip
Mushroom Whatnots
Chile Cheese Squares
Jarlsberg Bacon Dip
Main
Ham
Grilled Asparagus
Grilled Vegetable Salad with Bacon
Green Bean Casserole
Potato Casserole
Rolls
Dessert
Assorted Homemade Cookies/Candies
Chocolate Mousse
Coffee
Regular
Holiday Coffee (Baileys and Tuaca)
I think I have about 20 pounds of leftovers in my garage refrigerator, but everything turned out wonderful!
We cooked and created all day, then we ate, drank and watched two classic Christmas movies with my family, Christmas Vacation and Bad Santa. Finally when everyone was stuffed to the gills my parents and uncle went home and it was just Andrew, Willie and Me. We cuddled up on the couch with some wine and a movie and with the quiet filling our house I fell asleep. It was a good Christmas....as good as it could have been without my Aidan.
Love, Me.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
What is "Normal"?
What is "Normal"?
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Easter.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of my baby's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and his birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember him.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in Heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
-Author Unknown
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Easter.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of my baby's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and his birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember him.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in Heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
-Author Unknown
Love, Me.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
It's beginning to look a lot like....BAA HUMBUG!!!
Hello All,
Thanksgiving this year was the worst of my life. It should have been happy, I should have had Aidan with me, but instead Andrew and I spent it apart. Him in St. Louis and I in Oklahoma. Both my and Andrew's Thanksgivings were equally horrible. I got to listen to my family talk about my cousin's kids and all that they have been up to, including stories about her baby boy who was born a month after I had Aidan (like I really needed those anecdotes) and Andrew got to listen to all kinds of baby talk because his sister is pregnant and is due in January. I think that Andrew and I would both agree that we would have rather been in our own house maintaining a solid and sustainable drunk for all of the Thanksgiving weekend. I'm just glad that neither of us actually acted on our inner thoughts and no one got Bitch Slapped or severely tongue lashed.
I'm not saying that those stories and that happiness that our families felt the need to expose us to can't happen. I'm all for people talking about baby stuff and being happy....just not around me. When I'm not around please by all means talk about showers or cute things they did or said or boppys, but when I'm there, please talk about something else. Anything...the death penalty...your recent cake ball recipe...how Night at the Museum 2 was just not as good as the original...ANYTHING ELSE!! Sometimes I feel like I'm in a time warp, or the twilight zone when people talk about baby stuff around me, I just want to say SERIOUSLY!?!? or like that SNL skit "REALLY?!!? REALLY?!!". I digress...
Now were are on to Christmas. I have to friggin force myself to be in the Christmas spirit which really sucks. I usually love Christmas, I love baking and going to parties and sweaters and all of that. Now I have to force myself to at least pretend to be joyful. Forcing myself to do things has been a theme in my life these days. Forcing myself to smile. Forcing myself to be happy for other people. Forcing myself to take care of my house and myself. My hope is that one day I won't have to force myself to do any of these things, that after a while I will want to do those things and it will happen naturally. Although, I don't really know when that is going to happen...I don't think any time soon.
We went out and visited Aidan this past Sunday. I can't remember whether I have mentioned it before, but Aidan is buried in "Lullaby Land" which is a section only for children who die younger than 2 years old. Now that it is the holiday season parents are starting to decorate their children's graves with poinsettias and red green and white flowers and other holiday things. My mother had a grave blanket made for him (see picture below). It is just beautiful. I laughed to my mom when I told her how beautiful it was on the phone and how he had the biggest and most extravagant grave decoration out there. It reminded me of when I was little. My mother never under does anything, she has always been an over doer, and to her credit I believe that she has rubbed off on me a little in that department.
I always had the best birthday parties, the most presents, the nicest clothes, in my mother's eyes nothing was too good for me. I remember for my 11th birthday my mom took 10 girls to Six Flags and she had matching shirts and sun visors made for everyone to wear. I was in pageants when I was little and always had custom dresses made so no one else had anything like my dress. When I was in 5th grade most of my clothes came from a store called Animal Crackers where the average cost of an outfit was around $300 (and yes that was back in the late 80's early 90's) and I had an outfit that even had a name "Star Wars". I always had private lessons in cheerleading or gymnastics. I had a brand new Chevy Camero when I turned 16 and my homecoming dress my senior year in high school was a Bob Mackie original. I have to say that when I was little I did not truly appreciate all that she did for me, in fact I was almost embarrassed due to the fact that several kids were mean to me because of jealousy, but now that I'm older the extravagant things that she did for me and the sacrifices that she made for me are what I remember most. The fact that she went without new clothes so that I could have ones named "Star Wars", that she would take me to have my nails and hair professionally done at 12 and she would color her hair in the sink at home; that she would use grocery money she had saved or money from her rental property on my private gymnastics lessons rather than on herself. I love you mom.
I really have the best mom in the world and I know that if Aidan had lived, he would have been the most spoiled child ever because not only would he have been spoiled by Andrew and me, but by my mother as well...and even though that chance may have been taken away, we are still taking every opportunity to spoil him....he is the only child out there with a huge arrangement and a granite lined bronze vase (not in the picture under the grave blanket).
**I know the pictures aren't very clear. His marker says "Aidan Jackson McCaffrey July 27, 2010 "For this child I prayed" 1 Sam. 1:27" His neighbors are Sebastian to his left and Olivia to his right. They both passed away in June.**
In other news, my grandma is almost done with her Chemo and the last blood test showed that she is 1 point from remission. We are all so thrilled and thankful that she will have more time with us. My aunt is progressing in her treatment and has had a double mastectomy and is just starting her Chemo, so please keep her in your prayers.
So, I guess this brings me to the end of yet another random post. Forgive me if it is disjointed, I started and had to come back to it several times. :-) I really hope that your holiday season is better than mine...looking forward to a better 2011.
Love, Me.
Thanksgiving this year was the worst of my life. It should have been happy, I should have had Aidan with me, but instead Andrew and I spent it apart. Him in St. Louis and I in Oklahoma. Both my and Andrew's Thanksgivings were equally horrible. I got to listen to my family talk about my cousin's kids and all that they have been up to, including stories about her baby boy who was born a month after I had Aidan (like I really needed those anecdotes) and Andrew got to listen to all kinds of baby talk because his sister is pregnant and is due in January. I think that Andrew and I would both agree that we would have rather been in our own house maintaining a solid and sustainable drunk for all of the Thanksgiving weekend. I'm just glad that neither of us actually acted on our inner thoughts and no one got Bitch Slapped or severely tongue lashed.
I'm not saying that those stories and that happiness that our families felt the need to expose us to can't happen. I'm all for people talking about baby stuff and being happy....just not around me. When I'm not around please by all means talk about showers or cute things they did or said or boppys, but when I'm there, please talk about something else. Anything...the death penalty...your recent cake ball recipe...how Night at the Museum 2 was just not as good as the original...ANYTHING ELSE!! Sometimes I feel like I'm in a time warp, or the twilight zone when people talk about baby stuff around me, I just want to say SERIOUSLY!?!? or like that SNL skit "REALLY?!!? REALLY?!!". I digress...
Now were are on to Christmas. I have to friggin force myself to be in the Christmas spirit which really sucks. I usually love Christmas, I love baking and going to parties and sweaters and all of that. Now I have to force myself to at least pretend to be joyful. Forcing myself to do things has been a theme in my life these days. Forcing myself to smile. Forcing myself to be happy for other people. Forcing myself to take care of my house and myself. My hope is that one day I won't have to force myself to do any of these things, that after a while I will want to do those things and it will happen naturally. Although, I don't really know when that is going to happen...I don't think any time soon.
We went out and visited Aidan this past Sunday. I can't remember whether I have mentioned it before, but Aidan is buried in "Lullaby Land" which is a section only for children who die younger than 2 years old. Now that it is the holiday season parents are starting to decorate their children's graves with poinsettias and red green and white flowers and other holiday things. My mother had a grave blanket made for him (see picture below). It is just beautiful. I laughed to my mom when I told her how beautiful it was on the phone and how he had the biggest and most extravagant grave decoration out there. It reminded me of when I was little. My mother never under does anything, she has always been an over doer, and to her credit I believe that she has rubbed off on me a little in that department.
I always had the best birthday parties, the most presents, the nicest clothes, in my mother's eyes nothing was too good for me. I remember for my 11th birthday my mom took 10 girls to Six Flags and she had matching shirts and sun visors made for everyone to wear. I was in pageants when I was little and always had custom dresses made so no one else had anything like my dress. When I was in 5th grade most of my clothes came from a store called Animal Crackers where the average cost of an outfit was around $300 (and yes that was back in the late 80's early 90's) and I had an outfit that even had a name "Star Wars". I always had private lessons in cheerleading or gymnastics. I had a brand new Chevy Camero when I turned 16 and my homecoming dress my senior year in high school was a Bob Mackie original. I have to say that when I was little I did not truly appreciate all that she did for me, in fact I was almost embarrassed due to the fact that several kids were mean to me because of jealousy, but now that I'm older the extravagant things that she did for me and the sacrifices that she made for me are what I remember most. The fact that she went without new clothes so that I could have ones named "Star Wars", that she would take me to have my nails and hair professionally done at 12 and she would color her hair in the sink at home; that she would use grocery money she had saved or money from her rental property on my private gymnastics lessons rather than on herself. I love you mom.
I really have the best mom in the world and I know that if Aidan had lived, he would have been the most spoiled child ever because not only would he have been spoiled by Andrew and me, but by my mother as well...and even though that chance may have been taken away, we are still taking every opportunity to spoil him....he is the only child out there with a huge arrangement and a granite lined bronze vase (not in the picture under the grave blanket).
In other news, my grandma is almost done with her Chemo and the last blood test showed that she is 1 point from remission. We are all so thrilled and thankful that she will have more time with us. My aunt is progressing in her treatment and has had a double mastectomy and is just starting her Chemo, so please keep her in your prayers.
So, I guess this brings me to the end of yet another random post. Forgive me if it is disjointed, I started and had to come back to it several times. :-) I really hope that your holiday season is better than mine...looking forward to a better 2011.
Love, Me.
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