The Reality of Grief

We survived our first holiday. It was rough. Her absence was obvious and it hurt. I'm dreading the rest of the holidays we have to face. Facebook memories is the greatest and worst thing. They are great to look back at memories from over the years but they are horrible when you are grieving the loss of someone who pops up on your memories feed every day. Today was worse. I've been on Facebook for 9 years. There were 8 years worth of Halloween memories with Catherine. Eight years worth of photos. Eight years worth of costumes. Eight years worth of Halloween memories. Some days it is like a car accident. You know you shouldn't look but you do anyway. I looked. And it made me so profoundly sad. Henry only got 2 years of Halloween with Catherine. Only 2 years of photos to show she existed in his life. His first Halloween she joked that she went as a teen mom and carried him around. His second Halloween she walked with him at the fall festivals. His third Halloween she wasn

Today marks 2 months since Catherine suddenly left our world. I'm not sure how it is possible. One would think as time goes by, it would be less painful but I can say that 2 months into this, every day seems a little more painful. With each passing day, we are realizing more and more her absence. We are realizing the things she will never do. We are grieving her loss even more. And despite being 2 months in, there are days when I still think I need to text her to ask a question. Or Sunday morning when I woke up, I thought I would let her sleep in because it was her first weekend with no band competition. And then the memory hits and you are faced with pain. Then the realization that there will be no more texts or sleeping late. Today has been tough. I woke up with anxiety and it has stuck with me all day. In fact, I'm not even sure how I made it through my work day. My chest was tight all day and I felt like I was on the verge of tears. I didn't realize how much this ha

Here are a few things you may not have known about Catherine. She volunteered with the local DAR, she loved trees (especially Magnolia trees), and she was obsessed with famous authors. So imagine my surprise and joy when I found out that the local DAR gifted my mother a tree from American Heritage Trees here in Lebanon. If you haven't heard of them, you should definitely peruse their website (Americanheritagetrees.org). They take seeds and clippings off trees from the homes of historical figures and develop them into trees you can plant. My mother asked me what tree she should get for her yard. She listed off numerous options and I told her Magnolia trees were Catherine's favorite. After a quick look on the website, I told mom to get the Magnolia tree from Helen Keller's home. The other option was a Magnolia from Robert E. Lee's farm but Catherine would have made sure that tree didn't survive. My girl appreciated what he did in history but despised the fact he was

I woke up this morning with a sense of dread. And I knew why. Fall festival day. The morning started out normal enough. I took Max and Charlie to their piano lessons and the baby came with us. After I dropped them off, Henry and I headed to Hobby Lobby to walk around. Lord knows that after having this many kids, I would have remembered what the terrible two's are all about. Henry was in rare form today. Argumentative, manipulative, and all around grouchy. We decided to make a floral arrangement for the house. Something that was cheerful with eucalyptus. My Aunt Susan always had it in her house and the smell was one that Catherine and I loved. Through the last 2 months I've decided that I love the look of flowers in the house but they become overwhelming over time. The shed their petals and need water and when you are barely struggling to get out of bed, your flowers are doomed to a rotten death. So a nice fake floral arrangement seemed like a good idea. I'm not very good

I woke up this morning and felt great. After a meeting last night, I felt like I have found my purpose and was looking forward to the future plans that were laid out at the meeting. I was almost too happy. And then without warning, the anxiety hit. I wasn't sure why either. It came on all at once and got worse throughout the day. The trouble with anxiety is that it comes and hits you out of nowhere. There is medication and you can try to breathe through it but if you don't know the cause, you can't prevent it from happening. The more the day went on, the worse that feeling in my chest got and it was almost to a point of unbearable. Then I got a phone call from the school. It was the nurse calling about Charlie. She also used to be the nurse when Catherine was little, so she knows the family. She called and immediately told me that Charlie was fine but that he fell in gym class and split his pants wide open. He was mortified and needed more pants. So I left work with the i

I shared this post from Jen Hatmaker and her husband 2 years ago today. Typically, looking at the "On this day" posts on Facebook is hard and I tend to quickly scan through. This one stuck out and I realized how real it was. I've often asked myself through this time, "What would Jen Hatmaker do?" If you haven't read her books, you are missing out. She is quite amazing. It has been 8 weeks since we lost Catherine. In a few days, we hit the 2 month mark. Through this time I've tried to be grateful and appreciate of all the helpers. They have been numerous. As someone that prefers to be the helper, being helped is strange. I often wonder what Jen Hatmaker would do during this time. She tends to handle things that come her way with lots of emotion but also grace and compassion. Her faith never waivers and despite anything she is faced with, she leans on her faith. That has been a big problem for me. Mainly because people tell me things like "Everyth

I am faced each day with different stories of death and grief. A lot of times people tell me they know how I feel because they faced a loss. I question that, a lot. When people tell me of the death of a loved one, I tell them I don't know their grief, but I do know grief. Because not all grief is the same. How do you quantify a level of grief? Is my grief the same as someone who lost a parent or sibling or spouse? I don't know. Sometimes it seems like there are clubs. Someone who lost a sibling club. Someone who lost a spouse club. Someone who lost a parent club. Someone who lost a child club. But what about within those clubs? Is someone's grief the same that lost a spouse and was married for 3 years versus 30 years? What about a young child that loses an infant sibling versus a grown up losing a grown sibling? What about someone that lost a child that was 2 years old versus 30 years old? I don't know their grief, but I do know grief. Within those clubs, we all gri

After a wonderful weekend away, we have decided that Catherine is everywhere. Especially when we need her the most. On Friday, as we were getting ready, she made her presence known. I was standing in the hallway checking my list and saw someone standing in the kitchen out of the corner of my eye. About 30 minutes earlier, I had borrowed a shirt from Catherine's closet. I turned to my right, thinking it was Josh in the kitchen, and no one was there. I said, "I see you there, yes I borrowed your shirt, yes you are coming with us, I love you." A few minutes later, I was finishing up as Josh was loading the final items into the car. All of a sudden I was overwhelmed by the smell of Catherine. I looked up the stairs to see if her door was open, it wasn't. I walked outside and started to tell Josh he was going to think I was crazy, and he was standing by the van, looking at a butterfly. A few moments earlier, it had flown right into his face. We realized our girl was maki

Ten years ago our family faced a huge loss. My cousin's 5 year old daughter passed away. It was a shock for our whole family. I remember being terrified of losing my own children. Death seems to happen to everyone else but when it hits so close to home, it becomes very scary and real. I started reading her blog (and still do) and following her through her journey. When my Catherine died, my cousin couldn't get to me fast enough. She came to hold my hand as I was inducted as a member of the club that no mother wants to join. In reading her blog, she always lists "Sparklies" of her day. Hannah was fancy and loved all things fancy. Rachael and I like to think that our girls are hanging out together now. As a result, I had my first run in with "sparklies" since August 30th. With my goal of self care, I try to get a manicure and pedicure every few weeks. It is my time to sit and be still. No one bothers me and my usual nail girl doesn't chat, except to tell

Sometimes the best way to describe my grief is that I'm walking a tightrope. There are times when I am walking easily on that tightrope, smile on my face. Then there are times that I wobble a bit but I'm still balancing. And then from out of nowhere, a strong wind comes and completely knocks me off that tightrope. Then comes the free fall into the grief.  Having that free fall into my grief has only happened twice since Catherine's funeral. One was the first band competition we went to and the second was last night. Both times resulted in crying, yelling, and inconsolable anger. It is a release of sorts. I work so hard to keep it all together. For my kids, my husband, my job. I hate to cry, especially in front of people and both times that I've fallen apart in an epic manner, it was in front of people.  Last night was supposed to be a night of fun with my coworkers. We went to the Titans game, tailgated, and hung out. Part of the reason we were all there last nig

My world revolved around Catherine. It always did. More so than the other children. I fight the anger and bitter feelings daily over her loss. Every decision I made for the last 16 years was because of her. Finishing college at almost 30, working late hours to make it to the next big position at work, showing her that it is hard to be a single mom, and all the other things I did to give her a better life. We were so close to the finish line and I feel like all the decisions and sacrifices I made were for nothing. Catherine is the only one who knew what it was like when we were so poor we had no electricity. Or when we were down to our last can of corn and that is what she ate for dinner while I played games with her and watched her eat. Catherine is why I have worked so damn hard to give more to my kids. And she apprecited it. I remember the first time that she confessed her shoes were too small and that she didn't want to ask for new ones because it wasn't in the budget. I loo

I have a million different things I want to share tonight. I do want to thank all of you that took the time to reach out the media in regards to the repeat false reporting on my daughter's death. I can assure you that the school system and the Lebanon Police Department have been in constant contact with me and they are just as angry and frustrated as I am over this issue. The LPD has assured me that they do not comment on the death of a minor and are trying to find out why the news would quote them as reporting that information. The media will do anything they can to get any salacious detail possible. They are irresponsible and have no idea the harm they are causing my family. But on to tonight's post. The boys had piano lessons this morning and I took them for the first time since Catherine died. It was difficult. The four of us would go and sing songs and listen to all the music that Josh hated. Catherine would take her flute lesson first and then while the boys were in the

We have a spot in our backyard that a tree once stood. A storm took it out years ago and nothing really grows there. It is an ugly spot that consists of dirt and a small indention where the tree used to be at some point. We can't even grow grass there. My morning routine since I went back to work over a year ago was to let the dogs out back and stand with them for a minute. I'm at that spot every single morning. The morning before Catherine died, I was in that spot. There was nothing there. Just a bald spot in our yard. The morning she died, I hadn't let the dogs out yet. I realized that Catherine wasn't up and went up to get her. Little did I know that she was gone. The rest of the morning is a blur. Getting the boys out of the house, dealing with paramedics that didn't want to tell me she was gone, being questioned by detectives, and having family show up, my morning routine was off. When everyone left, I went out back to check on the dogs and in the spot that

Let me start by saying that I'm angry and I've thought about this post for some time. The issue has come up quite a bit the last week. A sweet soul left this earth and suddenly the parents of Wilson County decided to address the issue of bullying. They wanted to use my daughter's death as an example as well. The problem with that? My daughter didn't end her life because of bullying. She didn't even end her life. What the parents of this fine county did was exactly the thing they have been rallying against all week. To claim the cause of death of my daughter was suicide was a form of bullying. Especially since her parents don't even know the cause of death. Imagine waiting on that phone call and seeing everyone running with misinformation while you are still coming to terms with your child's death and knowing that eventual phone call with the cause of death is coming. Did you know it takes 8-14 weeks to get back a cause of death? We are 6 weeks into this and

We have all heard of "Fight or Flight" but this journey doesn't give that option very often. It is more of a "Flee or See" situation. When I am facing a situation that is going to cause anxiety, I have to decide if I'm going to flee the situation or see it through. I have had quite a few of these moments. When a song comes on that brings up memories of Catherine, I am faced with leaving the room or I can see it through and let the memories come over me. Sometimes I take it all in and see it through. When a song came on the other day that was our favorite, I wanted to flee and leave the room but instead I was able to see it through. I let the happy memories wash over me and while it was painful, the memories were nice. I'm faced with these situations daily. There are quite a few that I want to flee but I'm forced to see it through. Sometimes my mind wanders and I am taken to the morning I found her. The vision of her laying there in her bed brings

"It matters not how slow you go, as long as you don't stop" That was in a bath bomb that was brought to me by a dear friend today. I was excited to get to visit with Michele tonight and she brought goodies! A pack of journals and a bath bomb. I'm typically not one that uses that sort of thing but my muscles are sore today and with all the anxiety of the weekend, I figured it couldn't hurt to take a bath with this lavender scented bath bomb. As it fizzed away and turned my bath water a lovely shade of purple, a little message appeared. It was like a fortune from a fortune cookie. I read the message and chuckled. It is funny to me how are able to make a fortune from a fortune cookie work to our current situation. They all apply. This message applies to a runner, or someone's career, or even someone learning a new task. To me, it had meaning for this grieving season I'm currently in and trying to escape. Grief is all consuming. So is depression. They se

Today was the day that we were to drive to Memphis to take Catherine's sister the custom charm we had made with her ashes in it. That isn't something you send in the mail. Plus I love a visit with Britt and we were looking forward to the trip. A trip to Ikea while Britt worked her job and then meeting up with her after work for a visit and a meal. You always have to feed a "starving" college student! The morning started off early and we were on the road by 7:30am. All was well until I saw that an article had been posted by the local news about the bullying epidemic in our town. My stomach was in knots. I read the article and was horrified to see that they claimed that this bullying epidemic had caused a suicide epidemic. The video of the interview was worse. They claimed that two students had died due to suicide this school year at our local high school. Only two students have died which means they falsely claimed my daughter had committed suicide. I was furious. Th

When we are in middle school and high school, we are faced with many challenges. Bullying, puberty, social issues, and so much more. If you are lucky, you will have a close knit group of friends that help you through all that stuff. We moved around a lot when I was younger. When I started the 5th grade at a little county school here in Lebanon, it was culture shock. But I met people that would become part of my life. When I started high school, our group grew. There was 5 of us and we did everything together. We got each other through bullying and puberty and social issues and boy issues. Sandy, Rachel, Beth, and Denise were the women that got me through the shitty teen years and beyond. As an adult, I'm so blessed to still call them my friends. Sandy called the day Catherine died and the conversation went like this: Sandy - "Are you home" me - "Yes" Sandy - " I'm on my way" And then she appeared. And she stayed. She brought me waterproof

This particular subject has been on my mind for quite a few days. My husband and I discussed it and while we felt the following needed to be said, we were afraid to send a different message. I've prayed about this post and I keep feeling pushed to write it. For starters, this is not about my daughter's cause of death. We do not know it. We plan on not finding out. When they call with the results, the only thing I want to know is if it is something that could happen to my boys. That is it. Knowing her cause of death won't bring me peace. It won't bring her back. It won't change anything. She will still be gone and my heart will still be torn into a million pieces. My sweet daughter died peacefully in her sleep. There are numerous ways she could have died in her sleep. Knowing won't bring her back. One of the first things I'm asked is what happened. I usually respond with something in regards to her passing in her sleep. One would think that should be th