Tonight

Yesterday I decided that it's high time that I clean my room. Yup. Room was messy. My bed would be made most everyday, but there was clutter everywhere. I jokingly say that the melancholy in me has decided to take over because the phlegmatic in me has had way too much fun, lol. Seriously, I had to clean my room. Not to mention that I often get on my own kids for their rooms being unacceptable...not talking about that though.

So, yesterday I decided it's high time that I clean my room. I started slow, with a little pile in the corner, and worked my way toward another. Once I got those mostly taken care of (I had made way good headway!) it was time to get ready for work, with intents to finish those piles when I got home. Rest assured, those piles did not just 'move' to another spot in the room - they were taken care of! OH! I also went through one box (Yep, I had THREE boxes in my room that were put there when I moved into this house...TWO YEARS AGO!) (Did I mention that I was going to be vulnerable in this one???)

Today I knew I needed to finish the project, especially since I made a point to call my kids while I was at work and tell them that if their rooms are not taken care of they couldn't have a play-date on Sunday. I needed to make sure that I could have play-dates too ;-). What I didn't know was just how much that would entail. I went through all the boxes and found some things of Joey's that I thought he would love to have in his room. When he came in he saw those things and right away was upset. Those things were matchbox cars that Doug had gotten for Joey in some form or fashion, still in their packaging. That was his moment. Lizzie's came later when I told her that she had to sleep in her own bed that night because my bed was covered with 'clutter'. Mine came after they were in bed as I went through the last box...the box that had all of our (Doug and mine) nightstand things. I knew it would be rough, but I just did it...ripped the band-aid off and did it. And I was fine until I found a photo album that I remembered but I didn't remember what was in it, so I opened it and found that it was full of the comments left on Doug's FaceBook page shortly after his passing. Naturally I started reading them. I was doing great until I came to a dear friend who simply posted the lyrics to the song, "I can only imagine". I lost it for two reasons: one, that song is powerful to me and has so much more meaning than it used to and two, the person who wrote it is a dear friend and I know her heart. After that I couldn't continue reading without shedding more tears.

The moral of this? There comes a time when you realize that you're going to be alright and in that alright-ness you realize it's 'alright' to down-right throw a fit and allow yourself to have a good cry. It was about two hours ago that I went through that album and an hour since I finished my project (OK, it's not completely done! But WELL on it's way and there's no more clutter!) and I'm fine. My Jesus was with me in those moments and reminded me He is ever near ;-)

Little Things

I sit here this morning ready to take on my day. I got up at a decent time, got the kids up and started, and got my morning cup of joe. As it was brewing my boy (a Joe himself, hehe) asks me what an obituary is. "Why do you ask? Is it mentioned in the book you're reading?" I ask. "Yes" he answered. I then explain what an obituary is and proceed to explain that his dad had one. "He did?" "Yup" "Where's it at?" "We have a copy somewhere and it's online (through the funeral parlor we used). Want me to read it to you?" Surprisingly he says he does.

It surprised me because in all this time since Doug's passing I've let Joey be the guide, Lizzie too. I've let them tell me when it's OK to talk about dad and when it's not, I've not pushed them to do anything they've not wanted to do in regards to their dad. And of the two Joey has been the one not wanting to talk of Doug UNLESS he brings it up. Even when we had the viewing I stayed home with Joey while my best friend took Lizzie because he didn't want to go and she did. The only thing I did do was take Joey to the parlor the day of the viewing so we could have a private viewing. I didn't push Joey, but rather encouraged him as I didn't want him to look back and regret not seeing his dad one last time. During that private viewing Joey was reserved, but he had that moment.

So, today. I read him the obituary and knew that he probably wished he hadn't heard it, but he pressed on and listened. He teared up, but I'm sure it was for the same reason I did...good memories were rising to the surface and the realization that dad is not here hit again.

But my Joe is resilient and knows how to get the point across that he's done...right after we read the obituary and talked for a moment he turned his attention to the wire he was holding making it dance and marking the end of the conversation. I love my boy ;-)

There are times when I find that I don't wanna deal. I just want to wait until the storm passes over, til I'm home, or when the bills are screaming at me to get paid. But is that the way that God wants us? I don't think so.

I have the luxury of being on vacation for a few days and I'm really loving it...yet there's this persistent nagging that is the cause of this blog...school. But is it really school or just a habit that I've set up for myself and school is just the mask? School is needing to get done, but because I'm not at home with my usual routine I openly admit that it's harder to make the time to get it done and it's not screaming at me so it must be OK to put off...right? No. Let me make it known that I am getting school done while enjoying some much needed time off. Yet I'm being made aware of something bigger than just school: the fact that I would rather deal with the here and now and what's in front of me than the stuff that needs attention but isn't going to vie against other things for it.

Again I ask, is this what God wants for me? No. I believe that He would want me to deal with the pain now, with Him walking me through it, than later possibly alone and flailing about. That's what He does, walks us through the pain, through the sorrow, for a better tomorrow.