considering columbariums

Tiffy's death anniversary approaches again, and I'm wishing we had a space we could visit when we are thinking about her, maybe want to talk to her. I always envision something like a columbarium, such as this one, but one that isn't sealed. Something we can add pieces of, memories of, Tiffy as we are able. I don't think this is what they're used for, though.

I don't know why I continue to be bothered by this. I don't like the usual standard American fare of memorials or funerals. So what do I want?

Closure, obviously.
Not gonna happen in this family, though.

not to be overly dramatic or anythng...

... but I'm thinking 2012 is the magic number.  Hopes for 2011, I hereby relinquish you.  Go do your ankle-biting drain fly, waste-of-a-weekend, Tyler Swift-loving (yes, I said it), hangover-inducing thang somewhere else.

missing my family

While John packs the house alone, I am working between 11 - 13 hour days as we near our move-in date.  Five days and counting.

And tomorrow is Tiffy's birthday.  I should be hanging out with the family as they gather to talk about memories, history, songs... but will be at work until late at night instead, speaking at a Women's Networking event.  If I wasn't a co-leader of the Women's Networking circle, if I wasn't speaking at the event... there would be no way you could keep me away from my family that day. Even letting that stop me makes me feel pretty pathetic.

So tired. Through no one's fault in particular, there is peace no where to be found right now.

things are looking up for the holidays

We had so many family and friends show up to Lindsey Jams this Friday, some quite unexpectedly.  I wonder if they're feeling the holiday coming on, and are looking for family?  Practicing for Thanksgiving?  Or maybe running from that 'alone in the house on a holiday' dread.  Whatever the drive was, we were so happy to see everyone.

Mother & sons #2-4 (of 5)

EC&O, shining bright

 ~ * ~

Skimming through some posts from the last year, I realized the difference between how I was feeling half a year ago versus these last couple months.  There is nothing to say at this point about the effects of Tiffy's death; that would be an exercise in useless masochism.  But regarding the changes in my life around the surgery and promotion at work, I realize I am just plain happier.

Even averaging 60-65 hours a week on the job, the ball of stress I had in my stomach is no longer a permanent resident.  In fact, it rarely shows up at all. My ribs no longer feel like they're encroaching on my lungs, and that I'm suffocating myself in my own frustration and tension. I walk around the neighborhood and downtown Seattle when I want.  I work from home when my schedule allows, and spend some highly desirous time with my family (even if it's just being in the same four walls.)  I have... what's that feeling? Energy. It's amazing to recognize that buoyant feeling, that reserve, after having nothing in the tanks at all for a year or more. 

Is it... the feeling that the downward spiral has slowed? Perhaps halted altogether? Does the rest of the family feel something similar, that the worst has happened -- "How can it get worse now? It can only go up from here... right?"

seattle out of the darkness walk

In memory of Tiffy, my family and I will be joining the Seattle Out of the Darkness walk at Green Lake Park, October 10th.  While I don't believe this program could have made a difference for Tiffy, I do believe it could make a difference for others who are contemplating suicide. And since I wouldn't wish the pain of losing family to suicide on my worst enemy, I want to support this effort.

The Out of the Darkness Community Walks are 3-5 mile walks taking place in over 200 communities across the country this fall, with the proceeds benefitting the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP). By walking in the Out of the Darkness Community Walks, you will be walking with thousands of other walkers nationwide to raise money for AFSP's vital research and education programs to prevent suicide and save lives, increase national awareness about depression and suicide and provide support for survivors of suicide loss. In deciding to walk you are taking us a step closer to making suicide prevention a national priority.

 

Where: Green Lake Park, Seattle, Washington
Starts: 10/10/2010 @ 9:00am
Ends: 11:00am
Check-in Time: 8:00AM to 9:00am
Registration Cutoff: 10/09/2010 11:45pm
Donation Cutoff: 12/31/2010 12:00am
Contact: Jo McNeal
Phone: 425-482-0965
E-mail Address: jmcneal@afsp.org

veil of tears

"Veil of tears" was just part of John's existential conversational meandering after I heard that my Grandma died today. So close after Tiffy's shocking and tragic death, it's a totally different experience when the one who died is 95-years- old, and vocal about being 'ready to go'. Her body was eaten up with cancer, and she drifted off in a morphine coma. Though I know my mom was one of the closest people to her these last years, she was telling me tonight how torn she was between whether or not she should be sad. Grandma was so old, in pain, said she didn't want to linger, and would soon be dancing in heaven with Grandpa... but I can tell she was just trying to convince herself.

Must be nice to have that image to comfort yourself with.

We've been expecting this news for days now; it seems I can't watch a movie or read a book that doesn't feature a loved one dying, and my resistance is weak these days. Teary and melancholy; bittersweet because I'm also enjoying a couple peaceful days with my family before I head back to work next week. It's strange to be content one minute, sad and dreary the next.

Funeral. I find American funerals, and "grieving" culture, absolutely inadequate. Utterly insufficient. Fake and dreary. I've learned to despise it these last months. I don't suppose it'll be getting better any time soon.

fun on the fourth

This year was a bittersweet one, our first fourth of July without Tiffy. We ate too much, played on the trampoline, watched fireworks and then sat around the firepit for s'mores and singing. Emily sang a song Tiffy wrote, which was amazing to hear.

But this holiday has always been about fun with the family. We missed those not present, but with so many kids around, there was no way the day could be all somber.

I shot this video of the trampoline antics.

Also, the last year of the infamous "Lindsey Presentation", where the older brothers of John's family made a big presentation as they set off fireworks, to include, but not limited to: singing, skits and many wisecracks. (It is also acceptable behavior for mucho heckling from an easy-to-please but full-of-spice crowd.) We've spent many years of fun with this tradition--born about 14 years ago when we had babies and little money--and it's been decided that the tradition needs to be handed off to the next generation, which have finally reached an age where they'd like a part in the family traditions.

in memoriam

Click here to view this photo book larger

swollen eyes

Swollen eyes after a night of crying. Too many little shoulders to hug, too little comfort I can provide. Hard to be supportive when your tears won't stop; are they trying to comfort me while I'm trying to do the same for them?

A daughter, a little sister, a best friend, a second mother... to me, a little girl I've watched grow from a quiet 8 years to a masked 25 years. Beautiful and funny, but held apart. Was respecting that wrong? Too late to ask.


John, older brother with such a strong need to mask as well, "Viking and African warrior heritage; it's in the bones. Mustn't show weakness." Careful negotiations required to comfort weakness that can't be shown. Obsessive worrying into the night induces nothing but insomnia. No good to be had there, but saying so is useless.

Anyone can enjoy a sunset, though. Everything's too glorious now, the weather, the sky -- is it a joke of the universe, or a gift? I will assume the latter.

grieving

Words are lacking.