Tag Archives: happiness

4321–Here We Are

24 Aug
Miramar National Cemetery

to dust we return

Hello.

I began this post with the above photo for my family (and friends) to see upon opening their notification of a new post from me.  For though the photo has captured the shadows of my husband and I, viewing the headstone of our son for the first time (yesterday), I know that we are surrounded by our family–in spirit–though the miles keep them from being present in the shot.

It has been a few or more weeks since I have had the ability to write.  I had jumped into my new full time job hot on the heels of jet-lag and more relevantly, in the throngs of sorrowful mourning.  And as it goes, my particular job has not been (so far) a slow paced environment.

There is so much about this road I am walking that is unknown to me.  While I do speculate my potential reactions, thoughts, and future choices, I speculate through the eyes of the ignorant and then quickly step into the shoes of the knowing.  Forgive me, I am speaking in riddles.

The unknown= “Perhaps traveling will be good for me.  The ‘getting away’ from it all will ease my sorrow.”  The known=  Nope.  Traveling, right now, is not good for me.  My soul ached for home.

The unknown= “Working will be a good distraction from mourning.”    The known= The two are not connected.  I work and feel sorrow, simultaneously.  Sometimes I cry at work, sometimes I don’t.  While working I am distracted, but the second I turn from my duties, I am met with the reality of my loss.

The speculation and ignorance come from not having walked, previously, this road.  This road, of course being, living life with the loss of a child.  And though I do borrow from those who have left their footprints on my path, as time has put them ahead of my stride, I still don’t recognize myself within the new terrain.  My thoughts, my reactions, my opinions.

Now I’ve had friends and family who read this blog and get quite concerned for me as a result.  I apologize to them for that.  If one can be in a place of ‘healthy mourning’ consider me there.  I eat properly, I sleep (though still with interruptions from nightmares from time to time), I laugh, I joke, I am not drinking alcohol, not using drugs, I’m caring for my daughter and husband (attending to their needs and wants and sharing in moments of enjoyment with them), I cook, I clean, I love, and I live.  And through it all, I ache for the suffering my son endured these last few years.  I ache for myself–the mother facing her son’s legacy as carved out on a stone tablet.  I ache for my husband–the father who’s natural positivity cannot touch this sorrow filled reality.  I ache for my daughter–the seventeen year old who has experienced too much of the ‘hurt’ in life at too early an age.  And, I ache for those who continue to ache with us.

Now I truly have more I’d like to say, but I am going to keep this particular posting on the shorter side (in Rivka terms).  I want those of you who need to spend time viewing the photo, to not be distracted by my voice.  The voice that comes through in my writing.

I invite you to view the picture with your own thoughts and reflections.  And I will return soon, Lord willing.

In the words of our Lord:  Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.  -John 14:27

 

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Taken for Gran-ite

20 Jul

I’m sure most of us, above the age of 13, have been advised “don’t take life for granted” or “life is short, don’t take the people you love for granted.”  Well if anybody understands the brevity of life, it is I (and those connected to me).  However, in order to live, I am finding out that the only way to carry on is to, in fact, take those we love for granted.  We have to.  We have to consider that we will speak again, see each other again, and fulfill our future plans together.  It is imperative for our mental health that we consider the next day will come!

Now mind you, as each next day comes (at rapid speed) I am still trying to grapple with the yesterday gone by.  And while in my grappling state, momentary living–living in the moment rather, gets to be a tough concept to abide by.  Especially as my life keeps traveling at a rate too fast for me to handle.  Check this out…

  • Brian and I spend the day with our son, Cole.  May 16, 2013
  • A telephone call from a sheriff and Cole’s best friend tells us our son is gone.  May 17, 2013
  • We bury our son at Miramar National Cemetery, San Diego.  Dates at this point are escaping my memory
  • We leave for a pre-planned (business/pleasure) trip to Europe.
  • We return from Europe and turn around and fly to Japan (business/with pleasure attached).  July 1-7
  • Home from Japan with severe jet-lag, the following Monday (July 15), I begin a new job an hour from my home.
  • Here I sit, on my couch, the Saturday after navigating my first week of work.

I have mounds of mail to attend to.  I am late paying my visa bill.  My toilet is sporting a new “brown color ring” on the inside of the bowl.  My kitchen counter looks like a cross between OfficeMax and the grocery store.  I have the census bureau sending me threatening notifications about the fact I am “obligated by law” to fill out the form.  My laundry is still under the impression that “konichiwa” is the proper greeting of the day.  I have phone calls I haven’t made and follow up I haven’t done in connection to the death of my son.  We have been offered a historical home to live in, in San Diego (next door to my new job), for free–minus utilities.  And while the offer is extremely generous and financially appealing, the idea of it terrifies me.  AND–this is a big “and”– I have family and friends who are in sorrow with us and who have been left in the dust of our whirlwind as well.

So when I actually try to get my head around my life, my yesterday, my today, and my tomorrow–I find myself needing, absolutely requiring, that my loved ones, my circumstances, my world,  remain intact.  I mean it is all happening too fast for me…  I have to “take for granted” that they will be here tomorrow, if I am to make it through my today.

Now I must go de-clutter the kitchen counter, put the roast in the crock-pot, cut the fruit so it doesn’t rot, sort the beans and put them to boil, make breakfast for the rousing crew, and fill out the damn census form before John-Law comes a knocking at my door.

Any thoughts from the peanut gallery (a term I use to pay homage to my children–they are my peanuts–and I can still hear Cole’s voice)?

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Odds and (goofy) Ends

25 Apr

Truth is, I have written many a post while standing in front of my bathroom mirror applying the necessary makeup with which to meet the day.  But then I am off and running, in many directions, though none of which proves to be an effective method for taking off the extra 15 pounds (6.8 kilograms) that has made its home around my waist.  Now that that has been said, I say, “welcome back”…to myself!

Sheesh, sometimes just living is all I can handle; let alone formulating thought beyond “duh?”—so it has been these last few weeks.  And because of the many trains of thought that have been running through the station of my mind, I will utilize this post as a sharing ground and by doing so, hopefully return next time to musings beyond the fragments I will utilize today.  …like always, I make no promises!

  • This morning I stared at the coffee bean grinder, while it was grinding my beans, and blankly kept the button depressed while the, already pulverized (now) grounds, twirled and whirled within the encapsulated bin.  I finally caught myself and asked, “Rivka what are you doing?”  “Nuthin, why is it a bad sign when spinning coffee grounds prove entertaining?”  Let us let the answer to this one lie dormant…please!
  • Where is the summer weather I know and love?
  • We hosted my coming of age niece for a week last week; our time together was delightful.  I am exhausted!
  • Our family has learned (I say “has” because we are in fact enacting the following concept) to operate within a strange, new normal.  At least it feels strange to me.  My son’s health is poor…this is not new news.  And we have learned to operate within a crisis state by vacillating between attending to the extreme and attending to other aspects of life, simultaneously.  Let me explain.  I have learned to utilize my days’ allotment of energy to step up to whatever the occasion at hand might be.  Such as, coordinating healthcare maneuvers for my son while sharing Hollywood’s iconic locations with my niece.  In fact, I picked her up from the airport Sunday morning, drove her to my house, picked up my son and drove him to the emergency room, took him home after he received the proper treatment, returned to my house to step back into the shoes of ‘happy hostess’ and made a decent dinner which we enjoyed together.  The last time my son was taken to the ER my husband and I were attending a Bat Mitzvah, 500 miles away.  It was that day I learned how to practice this new place of normal–happy for the young lady of honor while fielding questions of concern via text.  I even danced that night.  And this past week I moved between these two vastly different planes like an old pro.  My conclusion?  Life is life…this is mine (ours).
  • A cancer diagnosis sucks.  It sucks because the looming statistics attached to the particular type are always with you, even when you ignore them.  Because of this truth, my son is scheduled for MRI’s of his brain tomorrow night.  Result of his health bouncing between bad to worse, back to bad again (at worse is when we head to the emergency room).  I miss my son.  Esther misses her brother.  We miss his joy, we miss his hope, we miss his wit.  Brian would never say something so negative!  🙂
  • It is a strange place of existence, carrying on in life while housing a broken heart…for many of us, this is normal.
  • My daughter attended a high school Prom this past Saturday evening.  I thought she didn’t care much about it, turns out I was wrong…dead wrong!  Screech, shift gears, and voila, my attention became all hers.  Thankfully I have an understanding niece!  In fact, she became integral to the cause…photographer.

    Prom photos

    Esther ready for Prom

  • I have a headache, today is the third day I have awoke to its imposing presence.  Last night Brian asked me a financial question, I told him I do not calculate well at night, nor with a headache, which made it impossible for me to pursue getting him an answer as both were a present factor.  Today he expects to revisit the topic, at least it’s morning!  In fact, it is still early.  Strange thing happened for me today (yes another one), I awoke and thought it was roughly 7a.m.  You see our electricity was turned off yesterday due to pole repairs.  As a result, my clocks (coffee pot included) are not set correctly.  And since I kept my cell phone turned off I was truly unaware of the hour.  Brian awoke and joined me as I was finishing breakfast…at, I thought, about 7:30-8:00a.m.  He checked his phone and reported it was only 7:13a.m.  Wow, I gained a whole hour!  …I wonder at what time I awoke this morning?  No wonder the spinning coffee grounds fascinated me so! 😉

Well as the Looney Tunes family of cartoons would say, “that’s all folks!”  And just as I am finishing expelling my fragmented thoughts, Brian shows me a photo of my paternal grandparents, Harry and Bessie, on their wedding day in the 1920’s.  I must now go and ponder why I don’t know more about this fascinating couple.

nostalgic family photos

Harry and Bessie

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