Orphaned

Technically I guess that I am an orphan (as some have coined it) now that both of my parents have died. I don't really feel like that though, I have so many people that care for me that I don't have that lonely feeling that I associate with the word "orphan". I have (now that I've realized it) several families: Blood family, church family, band family, work family, friends family, and it goes on. There are still people I look up to, and people I feel I must "be strong for", so I don't really feel like an orphan.

Some of the things I miss about Nate

Hugging
His smacking kisses
Teddy (because he meant so much to Nate)
Our "surprised face" game just before going to brush his teeth
"Kakah klease" (cracker please)
Stamping feet run
"Choo-choo"
Giving him a bath
How he would run to the front of the car, point at the radiator and say "Hot"
"Who lives in a barn" game
Little Einsteins color and shape book reading
Hearing his crib music box in the morning
"Da-da!"
Tickling
Him helping me with the stuff in the dishwasher
Changing his diaper
"Vroom-vroom" game in the shopping cart
"Kakah klease" (because he said it so often, it's in here twice)
Finding trains all over the house
The sound of the motorized Thomas the tank engine all day long
Searching for Teddy for night time
"Nite-nite da-da"
Him kissing Ani good night (both of them were usually so sweet to each other)
"Suuuuuuuuuue!" when Auntie Sue would come over
"Einteins"
How he looked up into my eyes with the "you are everything" look
How I felt when I could tell him directly that I loved him

Sometimes I get stuck

Sometimes I just get stuck thinking about Nate and Ani and can't figure out what to do next. My mind just seems a blank and can't get restarted. It usually only lasts a couple minutes, but it's a very helpless feeling.

Christmas is still christmas...

As I've been preparing myself for the coming family get-togethers that will now be missing 2 more beloved family members, I've told myself that it just won't be Christmas without them. However, really, it's just the opposite, and for a very good reason. The fact that Jesus came here to pay our debt doesn't change when your son or mother dies, in fact it should really give us more hope, since we have been given grace to be able to see them again. Now, certainly it will be sadder to get together with family without Nate and Mom, but Jesus' promise hasn't changed, and remembering that might make the whole season just a little bit easier to get through.

I'll still cry for my son, and for not being able to see his eyes light up, but I'll see those eyes again some day.

Relationships...

So, for some reason, I've been pondering the statement "Money can't buy happiness/love". Probably because of the commercialization surrounding Christmas. What I think brings you happiness and love is your relationships. Your relationships with God, family, friends, co-workers. I think that maybe what gets in the way here is sort of a defensive reaction when you want to display or receive emotions from others. While it's an accepted form of comedy to say "I love you man", it's not always socially accepted to say that and really mean it. Maybe if we were more honest with others or ourselves regarding our emotions, life would be happier.

Money can certainly buy pleasure, but it's fleeting and insubstantial. It's an instantaneous feeling, not a grounded and persistent feeling like happiness or love.

Just my rambling...

Enjoying my siblings' company

I have really enjoyed being in my siblings' (including my in-laws) company this past week, even given the circumstances. I am reminded again at how blessed I am to have a great family. We have our disagreements of course, but that's what they are, just disagreements. I love my family completely.

I want to be able to spend more time with them, so I'm going to work on how to do that...

Let's not change any plans...

I am so pleased that everybody's behind going to our band concert tonight. It really is a different world for us for a little while, and lets us release a different part of ourselves. I'm even more pleased at how many of my family is coming tonight. I know that Mom wanted to go, and now so many of my family are attending. It's a great pleasure.

My happy laugh again

This should have been posted before yesterday, since I thought about it then. It seems a little odd now, after my Mom passed, but here it is...

I find that when I'm conversing with Ani now, I can laugh my happy laugh I had before the tornado. It's a laugh from deep down inside, and I laugh along with my happiness. I didn't set out to "re-enable" this laugh, really it came from Ani's expressions on her face. I just had to "happy-laugh".

Now that Mom's gone, I know that since I regained my happy laugh before, I'll get it back again with Ani soon.

Another introspective analysis...

Where, generally, does my pain come from regarding the loss of Nate? Is it my sorrow over not having him here on the earth? Is it my sorrow over not being able to love him or teach him? Is it my sorrow that he couldn't fulfill a potential here? Is it maybe my fear of what he possibly experienced during the incident? I wonder if that's a big part of it. I know that the experience won't matter to him in heaven, but I still can't quite shake the feeling that, even for an instant, he was utterly terrified during the tornado. The same goes for Ani, though I hope and pray that she too has lost that memory from her mind. The bigger problem I have with Ani is that I know she was scared, I saw her face just before I turned to go get Nate, which was when the tornado hit. I had just turned away from Ani towards Nate, and it hit. I know that parents can't prevent harm or danger, but I would never want my children to know that kind of fear before they're mature enough to understand what fear is.

Today is Nate's birthday

Today is Nate's 3rd birthday (and Christy's birthday too). I can't imagine how hard this is on Christy, since Nathaniel really matches what happened 3 years ago. He was a genuine gift from God (meaning of Nathaniel) to Christy and I.

We had a birthday party last Sunday for Christy and Nate. Sue had a good idea, we would buy toys that Nate would have liked, and then donate them. It was hard; hard to buy the toys, and hard to unwrap them. We are trying so hard to make this day a happy one, and focus on how wonderful he was here on this earth, and not focus on the fact that he's not currently here on this earth.

I cried when Nate was born, and now I cry on his birthday. How I miss my little boy...

How true it is that children fill a void that you didn't know you had.

Nate, my son,
a brief exchange we had, but so many memories.
I remember giving you your first bath,
I remember how you would look at me in complete trust,
I remember, oh so well, the sound of your toddler "stampy" walk/run,
I remember you asking for crackers,
I remember trying to comfort you after you burned your fingers,
I remember "lives in a barn" game,
I remember you saying "more!" for tickling,
I remember dancing with you,
I remember being your "Da-da",
I remember,
I remember,
I'll always remember.
I treasure,
I treasure,
You are so precious.

Another balancing act...

So, now Mom's in a nursing home, Ani needs me, Christy needs me, and I monitor the new house's status. There's no particular answer to my dilemma, but how often should I go visit Mom? I both want to, and not want to (so sorry to all you English language pros out there) at the same time. I want to go each day, but am I taking time away from Ani and Christy (and work too)? Others say that I need to do things for myself too. I know that the situation is fluid, and that changes come around that make it so that no particular apportion of time is possible. I also don't want to just wait until I feel guilty about _not_ visiting Mom, 'cause then I'll just feel guilty a lot. The easy answer is something along the lines of "go as often as you feel necessary for you or Mom". I guess that's something similar to "wait until you feel guilty", except it's more of an active thing, rather than passive. I want to go often so that Mom hears me and knows that I believe in her. I really wish she could tell me how often to come, but that doesn't work. I'm working on what feels right to me, and it probably doesn't occupy as much of my mind as this post implies. Part of writing here in this blog is to facilitate getting things out of the background recesses of my mind to the forefront where at least I can view them. All of you are just along for the ride...