To All the Kind People Out There

I'm not going to lie, I spent most of last week in a foul, ornery place. I slept alot and didn't do much around the house. I didn't get the door when somebody knocked, and I had the ringer turned off my phones for much of the week. Did I even shower? Possibly once or twice, but sadly, I honestly can't remember because I was too busy being an ogre. Sorry if you were around for that, by the way.

Perhaps word of my cantankerism began to spread because a friend left a sweet note with cookies on my doorstep last Saturday morning. Then today, I opened my mailbox to find an unsigned, yet very thoughtful note and giftcard. The note was typed so I racked my brain trying to think of who the kind person could be. I'm grateful to say that I couldn't even narrow the possibilities down to 30. I have so many good friends, neighbors, in-laws, cousins, and family members that it could be any of you.

What I'm getting at here is THANK YOU!!! That thanks also goes to those who've sent us cards or messages filled with heartwarming words. I am certainly not deserving of the praise some messages provided, but believe me, they kept me from capsizing into that big wave of depression. The encouraging letters make it really hard to drown myself in self-pity and loss, dang it. That was a sarchastic dang, but please know my gratitude is genuine.

I am a lucky girl. I cannot begin to describe what an amazing husband I have and I mean that with every inch of my soul. He does ALOT for me, for our children, and for others in his family. I am constantly in awe of how he finds the strength and courage to not only forge through the storm, but to carry so many while he marches. Steve is truly a great man. I love him dearly.

Again, I'm sincerely thankful for your understanding, your compassion, your charity, and mostly, I'm thankful for your love and friendship.

Nothing Doing

I actually don't know why I still have a blog. I rarely update because my life is even less exciting than watching popcorn pop. Even worse is that I'm not complaining that I have nothing interesting to write about. Sure, I could use a good MB20 concert or an 8th trip to Wicked, but speaking from experience, boring isn't the worst thing to go through. Granted, Sundays without football will likely put me in a sinkhole and I'll be cursing this post like a bum without a bottle, but Spring is just around the bend. Before long, my lazy arse will reunite with metal bleachers and my ears will hear the harmony of bat pings and cleats walking on cement....aaaahh!!!

There are comforts in sounds you don't realize until customs of your past become treasured mementos, reminders of when life was good...when there was no diabetes, no cancer, and T was just a phone call away. Our biggest worry back then was how many more games Steve could throw without walking in the tying run or needing a shoulder transplant. Those were the good ol' days.

I guess the lesson is that without these days, it would've taken me longer to appreciate those days. Steve appreciates those days too, but he doesn't share my same regard for the slower schedule. Stagnancy allows him more time to dwell. Either way, we want to be done with this freezing weather. We're definitely anxious for the warmth and solace of fastpitch at the ballpark

That's My Brother

We had a great night watching videos and remembering T last night. Mandy and Gav brought their best when they found the video we thought was lost. Now I owe Gav 20 bucks which is much, much less than this masterpiece is worth.

It's actually a video of the VHS playing on our TV (I'll gladly spend the rest of my day trying to put it on a dvd.) Because both of Steve and T served missions, they didn't see each other for almost four years. Them reuniting was one of the most precious moments I've witnessed in my lifetime. I think it's only fair to share on my blog, on facebook, everywhere!

Merry Christmas Anyway

I took the term "light up my life" a little seriously this year. I never did like that song, but I figured we could use some extra cheer this season. What I cannot explain is why I spent so much time fixing up the outside when the inside has been in desperate need of cleaning and organizing for the last um...year and a half or so. Yes, that's when we moved in.

Maybe it's because no matter how hard I try or how many times I put things away, they return to the kitchen counter and table within minutes. In the past I've told people that I don't believe in magic but I'm officially recanting my statement due to the junk reappearing trick that happens in my kitchen on an hourly basis. Above is how the exterior looks and for your holiday pleasure, the interior is below.
I realize it's full of Christmas stuff, but do not be deceived, there's always a collection of this, that, and the other on there. It's awesome.

As much as I'd love to write more about my housekeeping measures, it's time to move on to something more nailbiting. I've recently become reacquainted with my good friend, mr. cough drop. It just wouldn't be Christmas without him. I'd like to thank him and his friend, the cough, for visiting me faithfully every November and December.

Of course, it's not surprising how much I think about past Novembers and Decembers now. There are so many precious memories and traditions in this time of year. They are bittersweet to remember right now but I suppose one day they will be more sweet than acrid. We have missed T painfully for six months. I try to prepare for the things we know we're going to miss before they arrive, but sometimes an emotion or a little forgotten memory springs up without notice.

Many people ask how Steve and the rest of the family are doing. It's a tough question to answer. The sadness and loss are ALWAYS there, below the surface. You never know the hour, day, or week that you're going to completely drown in it. It's not predictable or explainable. Mandy describes it perfectly as the hole. If you've lost a close person who you really, really, really love, you know that it's not just a hole in your heart, it's a hole in your entire being. The hole constantly takes your breath away, freezes your brain, stops your heart, and weighs down every organ in your body. It's so crippling that you can't believe what has happened and even after six months, you continually ask yourself if it's real. It's still hard to imagine that we don't have T, everything's so different without him, we love him so much.

Now that I've cried my eyes out, I don't know how to move onto the other things I wanted to say so I'll just end with this quote that's been on mind since I read it a month ago. It was originally attributed to Churchill but the quote police are now saying it wasn't him (too bad because it's a good one.)

"You make a living by what you get; you make a life by what you give" ~unknown

When it's all said and done, I would like to say that I gave as much love as I could, not just at Christmas but year-round. I'm still a work in progress.

Thanks to everyone for all the love you've shown us. Merry Christmas in the best way you can grab ahold of it. We love you all!

Grateful...Grateful Not...

Seems like I live in a world of "should's" that rarely turn into "did's" lately. I haven't updated my blog because I feel like I should write about what I'm grateful for since we're close to Thanksgiving now. I also feel like I should write equally about the happy and sad things we're experiencing, but when I sit down to write, the sad stuff takes over and I decide that I should not write after all. Instead of writing, I'll go public with my lists of both:

What I'm Grateful For

Good, happy children
Mint Oreos
Sweet, funny husband
Giving, loving family members
Gill, Colorado (because I can still feel my Grandpa there)
Friends who help you plant tulips in the snow because you procrastinated
Cootman
Friends who pretend to like coffee
Broncos kickin' ass and takin' names game
Insulin pumps
Ikea pillows
Antibiotics
Pink Houses
Furnaces
Mrs. Quarnberg
Cooperstown & Coolhand (Brooks would be bored out of his mind without them)
Cousins
Football
Good boss
A garage
Diet drinks

What I'm not Grateful For

Reading the article about dog fighting in LHJ
That "an eye for an eye" is no longer an acceptable form of punishment
Mint oreos
Physical pain associated with grief
Watching the love of your life experience true loss, complete heartbreak, & physical pain associated with grief (and having nothing to console such)
Cramps
Diabetes
Fat
Jewelers commercials
Early mornings
Losing Tug
Cankers
Laundry
Raiders
Chargers
People who eat just before teeth cleanings
Idiots who park in the school drop off zone every damn day

Maturity

It bugs me when 30-something year olds act like teenagers...

Time to grow up people...seriously.

New Sheriff in Town

It's been said that when you have a pet pass onto the other side, there's a possibility they can communicate to you through another animal. At this point in my life, I don't care if you call me crazy, insane, deluded, whatever, but I believe the theory. I'm not saying that Tug is trying to speak prophetics or guide me in any direction, but sometimes Coot looks at me in the just the right way and I know Tug is with me.

Cootman came to us while his family went on vacation in May. Coot was 9 months old and was on his second family, but they were also considering giving him away. He was urinating in their house, so they frequently kept him in the garage or tied him to a leash in the house. I don't fault my friend because Coot was the first dog her and her husband ever had. If you have a smaller dog, you are familiar with occasional accidents and clean-up. If you are Steven, you're not as patient about this either, but luckily you have a wife and kids that are.

Anyways, Coot being their first dog wasn't working out like they thought so we happily agreed to keep him. I swore I'd never get another pet after losing Tug. I didn't want to experience that heartache and emptiness ever again in my life, but then Tug sent us a little band-aid. Our new heart patch had the same name as our nephew Cooper, so we tweeked his name a bit (he never knew the difference) and here we have the Cootster.

He doesn't have many potty mishaps anymore and he is awesome with Emma and Brooks. He sits by Brooks every morning and gets read to, or talked to, or anything that provides attention.

He "helps" with dishes...He leaps super high for everything...

He "helps" me find stuff...

And mostly, Coot just follows me around and makes sure I'm never alone. I am someone's world again. I still kiss Tug's collar on my bedpost every night because I miss him earnestly, but when I kiss Coot on his temples, I am literally kissing Tug too. Those are the glimpses of heaven that I'm allowed several times a day and the saints know I need 'em.