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 looked at her and told her that they were in the budget and that is why I had worked so hard all those years. It was for her. The boys don't remember what it was like in those days because they weren't born yet or they were too young to notice we went without a lot. My world revolved around my daughter.
While this was a good thing for her, in some ways it meant I didn't have that same relationship with my boys. Don't get me wrong, I love them with all my heart and would do anything for them but I wanted Catherine to see that getting pregnant at 19 with no college degree or job skills was hard as hell. The boys never went without. Catherine is the only child I've ever given birth to that I had an instant connection. I loved my boys the first time I laid eyes on them but it wasn't the same. Catherine and I had a bond. With her gone, I feel like half a person. And I'm mad.
Connecting with the boys before her death was hard. I was the mom and while I am good at fixing injuries and breaking up fights and snuggling, I'm not good at other boy stuff. Video games and legos and action figures are not my thing. And Lord knows I've tried. Everyone got super frustrated when I tried to learn Minecraft and that one time I tried to help with Legos, I got a bit crazy and controlling. It has been difficult to connect with them after her death. She consumed so much of my time that I didn't feel left out. With her gone, I'm the only girl and I feel like the odd one out every single day. Add in the fear of losing them too, and it doesn't make for a happy person. This definitely adds to my depression. So what is a mother of boys to do? Find common ground.
Being a single mom for all those years had its perks. I am able to do a lot of things that shock them (and even Josh sometimes). They all watched as I installed the new dishwasher and they were a bit shocked the first time I changed out a dryer cord or switched out an electrical outlet. They have stood in disbelief as I removed the pipes and bathroom sink when we did our floors in the house when we moved in and they watched as I did other things that didn't seem to be "common" for just a mom. In my quest of dealing with my grief, I have decided to redecorate the house. Josh and the boys are just along for the ride and have been great help. This weekend we tackled the dining room. The table that my parents bought 30 years ago was given some much needed love. We got to use power tools and paint and stain and staple guns. Common ground. And they enjoyed it.
Today when Josh took Hughes back to his mother, Charlie stayed with me while Max and Henry went with Josh. Charlie and I decided to recover the extra chair we have in our dining room. The old cover was nasty and didn't match the new look. Out came the fabric and staple gun and Josh's bag of tools. Step by step we recovered that cushion. I enjoyed showing Charlie how to use a staple gun and he enjoyed giving me some ideas on how to add some flair to the cushion. We chatted and worked and had a good time. It was a nice moment. It was that common ground I've been desperate to find with him. This morning, Max wanted donuts. So we loaded up and went to Dunkin Donuts for a couple dozen donuts and some coffee. Just me and him. We chatted and had a nice time while it was just us. More common ground.
Every day is a struggle without Catherine. I miss her more than I ever thought possible. While working on one of our projects today, I could see her sitting on the couch, leaned over the arm, woobie in her face, while she gave witty commentary on our project. She is everywhere and her absence is unbearable. People who say it gets easier are idiots. It gets easier to function but the grief and pain are as bad as they were the morning I found her. But while she is gone, I have to remember that the boys are still here. In order for this to work, I have to find common ground. And little by little, we are getting there.
While this was a good thing for her, in some ways it meant I didn't have that same relationship with my boys. Don't get me wrong, I love them with all my heart and would do anything for them but I wanted Catherine to see that getting pregnant at 19 with no college degree or job skills was hard as hell. The boys never went without. Catherine is the only child I've ever given birth to that I had an instant connection. I loved my boys the first time I laid eyes on them but it wasn't the same. Catherine and I had a bond. With her gone, I feel like half a person. And I'm mad.
Connecting with the boys before her death was hard. I was the mom and while I am good at fixing injuries and breaking up fights and snuggling, I'm not good at other boy stuff. Video games and legos and action figures are not my thing. And Lord knows I've tried. Everyone got super frustrated when I tried to learn Minecraft and that one time I tried to help with Legos, I got a bit crazy and controlling. It has been difficult to connect with them after her death. She consumed so much of my time that I didn't feel left out. With her gone, I'm the only girl and I feel like the odd one out every single day. Add in the fear of losing them too, and it doesn't make for a happy person. This definitely adds to my depression. So what is a mother of boys to do? Find common ground.
Being a single mom for all those years had its perks. I am able to do a lot of things that shock them (and even Josh sometimes). They all watched as I installed the new dishwasher and they were a bit shocked the first time I changed out a dryer cord or switched out an electrical outlet. They have stood in disbelief as I removed the pipes and bathroom sink when we did our floors in the house when we moved in and they watched as I did other things that didn't seem to be "common" for just a mom. In my quest of dealing with my grief, I have decided to redecorate the house. Josh and the boys are just along for the ride and have been great help. This weekend we tackled the dining room. The table that my parents bought 30 years ago was given some much needed love. We got to use power tools and paint and stain and staple guns. Common ground. And they enjoyed it.
Today when Josh took Hughes back to his mother, Charlie stayed with me while Max and Henry went with Josh. Charlie and I decided to recover the extra chair we have in our dining room. The old cover was nasty and didn't match the new look. Out came the fabric and staple gun and Josh's bag of tools. Step by step we recovered that cushion. I enjoyed showing Charlie how to use a staple gun and he enjoyed giving me some ideas on how to add some flair to the cushion. We chatted and worked and had a good time. It was a nice moment. It was that common ground I've been desperate to find with him. This morning, Max wanted donuts. So we loaded up and went to Dunkin Donuts for a couple dozen donuts and some coffee. Just me and him. We chatted and had a nice time while it was just us. More common ground.
Every day is a struggle without Catherine. I miss her more than I ever thought possible. While working on one of our projects today, I could see her sitting on the couch, leaned over the arm, woobie in her face, while she gave witty commentary on our project. She is everywhere and her absence is unbearable. People who say it gets easier are idiots. It gets easier to function but the grief and pain are as bad as they were the morning I found her. But while she is gone, I have to remember that the boys are still here. In order for this to work, I have to find common ground. And little by little, we are getting there.
Your words are so profound and honest. Love reading them, but I have to admit it makes me so sad and I do cry. Love you Erin!
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