Navigating the landmines

Every day I'm faced with landmines. These are emotional landmines that come out of nowhere. You are unprepared and despite trying to avoid them, they rip your heart apart and hurt as much as the day you lost your loved one. I'm hit with these landmines daily. Catherine is everywhere. 

It has been our Sunday morning tradition to go to breakfast with Catherine and Henry on the weekends we didn't have the other 3 boys. It was especially important during marching season because we didn't see her much. We would go early to Cracker Barrel, beat the crowd, and be done in time for church. About every couple months, Catherine would make an excuse to leave the table at the end of our meal and would purchase a salt and pepper shaker for me. They went with the season and never cost more than a few dollars. She would proudly give them to me in the car on the way home and we joked that at the rate we were going, we were going to have to get a curio cabinet for all my salt and pepper shakers. The last set she got me were flamingos. I have tons of these little sets and I remember each time she purchased them for me. It was our thing. We went to Cracker Barrel with Henry this morning. When we pulled into the parking lot, it hit me that there would be no more salt and pepper shakers bought for me by my Catherine. The boys didn't know about it because they weren't with us. It was our thing and it broke my heart. We went in and negotiated with Henry through breakfast and at the end of our meal we went to pay. I spaced out and walked away, looking for a salt and pepper shaker. In doing so, I failed to tell Josh who was left to pay the bill with a cranky Henry. I remember looking all over the store and not finding anything and then realized I had walked away from Josh. I couldn't find him. All at once I saw a very angry husband and pissed a off Henry coming through the store. I knew at once that I messed up. My husband hit a landmine. My landmine was the salt and pepper shakers, his was losing Henry. While paying, he let go of his hand, thinking I was there and Henry ran off. Josh realized it and panicked, looking for our child while I was wandering the store aimlessly. He found him in the dining room and then found me. It was an interesting drive home. Luckily we are really good at communicating and a few tears later, we figured out where we each went wrong. 

We headed to Wal-Mart to give that landmine another try. It wasn't bad. Until I saw a parent of one of the children that terrorized my daughter in her final days. I had a moment of rage but managed to keep it in check and finished our grocery shopping. A song came on the radio that was another landmine. My gut instinct was to turn it off. Instead I told Josh why the song was so special. A little voice in the backseat said "Mommy, I like that song!" Yes, the baby is speaking in complete sentences. I avoided the anxiety by making the choice to talk about it rather than shutting down. It hurt but was very cathartic. 

The day wasn't good. I was very crabby and emotional. My patience was thin. I took it all out on Josh and Henry. Sometimes the grief is so overwhelming and I miss my girl so much that it is all consuming. I'm surrounded by people but I'm lonely. God, I miss her so damn much. At the moment that I thought I couldn't take it anymore, I got a message to check out my front porch. Last week I reached out to a very talented friend and asked if she could turn one of Catherine's quotes into a piece of wall art. She delivered and then some. All my anger and grief disappeared for a moment when I saw her creation, complete with my daughter's signature. This is going above the piano. It screams Catherine and she captured the very essence of my girl. 

The rest of the day was spent fixing the dining room table and then I left to go work on my new chairs. Another angry day was spent tearing the upholstery off another chair. My fingers  are cut and blistered and I feel new again.  It also helps that my chair therapy is done with my dear friend Katherine who happens to be the mother of Catherine's best friend, Julia. Spending time with them helps more than anyone can imagine. I'm still connected to a teenager and she knew and loved my daughter. Julia and I both spoke of our grief and made jokes and had a good time. Katherine and I made terrible jokes, burned all the fabric from the chair once we found a bug, tacos were eaten, and there was a ton of laughter. Julia and Catherine loved that Katherine and I were friends. Being with them allows me to have fun and laugh without any of the guilt. I feel like Catherine would approve. I'm so blessed to be supported by people who get my grief and help me through it. The landmines suck and I'm careful in my navigation but they still happen. Having the tools and people in place, make them easier to navigate.