Yesterday I was productive. I got a lot of laundry done, I packed, I played with the kids. I did get the start of a wicked migraine somewhere around 10am and had to give in to the television for the kids. But medicine, gatorade and a lot of water and by 2pm I was feeling better. It is amazing how much time you can lose to migraines. I'm grateful I only get them every once in a while. It's really hard to function and parent and "read more books!" when your eyes can barely open.
So I was distracted and productive most of the day. But the end of the day, instagram conspired to throw a wall up. And I slammed into my aunt's name on the app.
And you know what ... it really stung.
She'll never post. Her account will stay live. But she'll never post. Not that she ever posted on insta. She just lurked and liked photos that I'm assuming the four people she followed, posted. But she'll never post. She'll never like one of my pictures. She'll never comment with some common sense, "don't-be-so-dramatic-Stacy" comment.
And it was just another wall with a big ole' sign: she's gone. This is the new reality. And you can't. Change. It.
I'm type A. I order and organize lives. I give instruction. This - for reasons unknown to me - does not translate into a particularly organized house. However. I pack for trips days to weeks in advance. I have menus planned for visits down to the snacks. I book hotel reservations months, months, months in advance. I have trips planned out for years. My photo catalog on my computer is an organized by date and tagged and geo tagged thing of beauty.
When G has an appointment I write everything down. I make a list of questions. I do look at current research and ask his doctor about his thoughts. I ask - again - if it were his child what would he do? I control chaos. Every day. Breakfast at 7. Snack at 9. Snack at 10:30. Lunch at 11:30. Snack at 3. Dinner at 5. Bath at 6:30. Bed at 7.
Every day. Rinse and repeat. Lunch box? Shoes? Back pack? Check check check. iPad today mom? Is it a weekday? Yes. Then you know the answer. Video games? Did it rain? No. Then you know the answer. How do we feel about secrets? They are bad. What do we do if someone asks you to keep a secret? Immediately tell mom. That's right.
Order brings order. Chaos breeds chaos. Order is all that separates us from the monkeys.
And I can't order this. I can't fix this. It's a full blown you-have-no-control situation and I don't like it.
In the hospital with my aunt I held her hand and I kept repeating ... I'm so sorry. And why would this be? And it's because I can't fix it. I can't make it better. Nothing makes it better. I prayed and prayed. I begged my prayer chain for miracles. Pray for a miracle. To no avail. I know they stormed heaven. I know her church stormed heaven. I know my family sent up prayer after prayer after prayer ... please. Please. Please.
To no avail.
And I struggle. Because I am used to being in control, in my little universe. When I hear someone is struggling I try to help. I can't help. I know this. My friend's mom was diagnosed with cancer. I can't help. But they asked for magazines and books for her while she went through chemo/radiation. I can shop. My friend's mom was diagnosed with cancer. I can't help. But I sent her a box of cookies and a note telling her I would pray. And I still pray. Dear Lord, please let her get that beloved "looks good" scan which is coming up. My friend separated from her husband. I can't help. But I brought her and her sons dinner. My friend had a bad week. I made her a lasagna. I am the Italian mama. I will feed you so you have nourishment through your grief. I will buy you a gift to make you smile. To know I'm thinking of you. I will take you to NYC when you are sad and you don't want to go ... because I know that you need to go. I try to fix. I really and truly do.
And for this. There is no fix.
And none of that brings her back.
I feel so robbed. ROBBED. There was so much left. So much more. The trip to Disneyworld that we're all planning ... she was supposed to be there. My timeline has always been 2020 because Julia would be five and that's when she'd be the right age for Florida. I want to honor her and honor us and be together to remember her because the only people in the world right now that know how important this woman is are those people. I don't like being or talking with other people. They know her. To be close to them is to be close to her.
Tomorrow I will be in Disneyland.
And I'm not as happy about it as I once was. I'm sure I'll still have fun. I'm sure I'll be okay. My kids are excited and their happiness is enough to get me through anything. And Julia will love it all, and I'm so excited to share that memory with her. And photograph it. So that one day she too can look back at pictures and think man ... we had some really good times.
We did. We had some really good times. We always got along. There wasn't drama. There wasn't fighting. It was always ... I'm so glad we get to do this lets cherish every moment because we live so far apart. We always always used every drop of vacation we ever took to see these precious people. And I think that's so important. In a day and age where more and more I'm met with people who say ... "I'm tired of using all my vacations for extended family."
I am so glad my parents weren't like that. I'm so glad that we went home to Kansas, every chance we could. I'm so glad we made the effort to be there when things mattered. And I'm so glad my Aunt did that for me, too. When she could show up, she did. And that's all that's important.
Looking at pictures is solace. We were all so happy. We were all so loved.
I miss her. I miss the family feeling whole. I don't like the missing space I feel, at the top of the chart.
But I'm grateful the natural order was maintained. I am grateful for what I did have. I am grateful for how wonderful she was and how much time I did get. I know we are guaranteed nothing.
I just don't like being hit in the face with it like this.
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