I've never been one for social anxiety. That is my husband's role. The introvert. I've always enjoyed big crowds and while it was exhausting, it was never an issue. Today we had the ALS Walk at Lipscomb. My company and it's foundation are huge supporters of ALS and we show up in big numbers for this walk each year. Everyone brings friends and family members. I enjoyed it so much last year. It is a pretty emotional and powerful event. While I've gingerly walked the landmine of questions about Catherine at work, I was unprepared for the spouses of my coworkers. I've met so many of them the last year and whether it is through a Christmas party or other company event, we have gotten to know each other. I was unprepared for the hugs and condolences and questions and offers of assistance. As a planner, I'm unsure why I didn't plan on this happening. I suddenly became overwhelmed and couldn't find my husband. Throughout all this, we have clung to each other. He is my guidepost. My lighthouse. The one thing I want and need when it all becomes too much. As much as I felt loved during those moments, I was suddenly feeling the oncoming anxiety. And when I thought it was too much and I was going to fall apart, there my sweet husband appeared. We posed for the group photo and then found a quiet spot. My escape buddy. I calmed down and we ended up having a great time at the walk and spent it with some friends who are directly affected by ALS. We chatted through the walk and it made the moments before seem not so intense. When it was over, we got out quickly. Sometimes it is hard being around large groups of people, especially happy ones. We are not happy people and we want to be irrationally angry at people who are acting like the world is fine. The world is not fine, at least not ours. It is missing Catherine. I didn't much enjoy being out of my comfort zone today but it was nice to feel the love and see the love. And best of all, Henry was the most perfect child through it all!
When we got home, we found our neighbor from across the street mowing our yard. Moments like that are weird for us. As people that enjoy helping others but don't like to ask for help, it warmed our hearts but made us feel guilty. But he wanted to do it and it made him feel helpful. And honestly, it needed to be mowed. As soon as he was done, one of my favorite people showed up with Halo Top Pumpkin Pie ice cream in honor of our girl. She drove all the way to Gallatin to get it and thought of our girl. Catherine would have jumped in the car with her to get that ice cream, no matter where it was located. Little stuff like that brings so much joy. My greatest fear is that Catherine will be forgotten. Reminders like Pumpkin Pie ice cream make us realize that she can't be forgotten. We ended up taking a 4 hour nap this afternoon after everyone left and the baby laid down for his nap. It was weird and not like us, but obviously needed.
We ended up spending the evening in Murfreesboro with Josh's family. His mother, sisters, their husbands, and one adorable niece were all there and it was a lovely escape. We grilled out and watched Henry and Stella play. Being only 6 months apart, they are quite the pair. I hope they become thick as thieves as they get older. We laughed and shared stories about life in general. The topic of our girl was somewhat off limits. At some point it becomes too much. You start to have fun and some of the grief melts away, even for a second, and then suddenly we are brought back to our heartbreak at the mention of her death. End of the day is the worst for us. Grief is exhausting. At some point it all becomes too much and you want to escape from it. We are lucky that our family gets it and respects our wishes. The next time we go over there, we may spend the whole time prattling on about our girl. But tonight it was too much. It was a great time and our Henry was actually quite wonderful. His bedtime is 7pm and he didn't go to bed tonight until 10pm and was an angel.
I want to end this post with a promise. That promise is transparency. I refuse to sugar coat anything and make it seem as though this isn't the most horrific thing I've ever gone through. I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve on this blog. My hope is that it helps another grieving parent or someone who knows another grieving parent. At some point in the near future, my sweet husband may contribute to this blog. We hope everyone is having a good weekend. And remember, love the living and life is short, eat the damn pie.
When we got home, we found our neighbor from across the street mowing our yard. Moments like that are weird for us. As people that enjoy helping others but don't like to ask for help, it warmed our hearts but made us feel guilty. But he wanted to do it and it made him feel helpful. And honestly, it needed to be mowed. As soon as he was done, one of my favorite people showed up with Halo Top Pumpkin Pie ice cream in honor of our girl. She drove all the way to Gallatin to get it and thought of our girl. Catherine would have jumped in the car with her to get that ice cream, no matter where it was located. Little stuff like that brings so much joy. My greatest fear is that Catherine will be forgotten. Reminders like Pumpkin Pie ice cream make us realize that she can't be forgotten. We ended up taking a 4 hour nap this afternoon after everyone left and the baby laid down for his nap. It was weird and not like us, but obviously needed.
We ended up spending the evening in Murfreesboro with Josh's family. His mother, sisters, their husbands, and one adorable niece were all there and it was a lovely escape. We grilled out and watched Henry and Stella play. Being only 6 months apart, they are quite the pair. I hope they become thick as thieves as they get older. We laughed and shared stories about life in general. The topic of our girl was somewhat off limits. At some point it becomes too much. You start to have fun and some of the grief melts away, even for a second, and then suddenly we are brought back to our heartbreak at the mention of her death. End of the day is the worst for us. Grief is exhausting. At some point it all becomes too much and you want to escape from it. We are lucky that our family gets it and respects our wishes. The next time we go over there, we may spend the whole time prattling on about our girl. But tonight it was too much. It was a great time and our Henry was actually quite wonderful. His bedtime is 7pm and he didn't go to bed tonight until 10pm and was an angel.
I want to end this post with a promise. That promise is transparency. I refuse to sugar coat anything and make it seem as though this isn't the most horrific thing I've ever gone through. I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve on this blog. My hope is that it helps another grieving parent or someone who knows another grieving parent. At some point in the near future, my sweet husband may contribute to this blog. We hope everyone is having a good weekend. And remember, love the living and life is short, eat the damn pie.
Please just keep writing. It's so helpful. There is so much I related to reading this. Please know, Catie will NEVER be forgotten. That was my biggest fear as well. It's not going to happen, I promise.
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