The Reality of Grief

Today was the 3 month mark since we lost Catherine. I'm not sure how I was supposed to feel today, other than sad. Throughout the last 3 months we have done what we needed to survive. I can tell you that 3 months later, it isn't any easier.  By doing the bare minimum, lots of stuff has been neglected. Things like hair appointments and vision appointments and well checks for the kids didn't seem to be on the list of stuff that matters. We know that it matters but it just wasn't on the priority list. Most days it is just to get up, go to work, feed kids, and make it through with minimal meltdowns and panic attacks. After realizing that Charlie wasn't handling his grief well, we opted to take him to the pediatrician for some guidance. He admits that he is angry and sad. He told us that he hated life. Those are all red flags. He also swears that he sees a man walking around the house. So off to the doctor we went. I honestly expected them to tell me that he needed to

Catherine and I watched "13 Reasons Why" when it first hit Netflix. I remember looking at Kate Walsh's character and thinking she looked like hell. Hollywood tends to make depression stereotypical in its portrayal. Greasy hair, bleary eyes, grayish, laying around, and just looking like they have given up on life.  For the real world, that isn't what depression looks like. Some people silently suffer from depression and no one ever really knows. Some people look a bit like Eeyore. But it isn't always like they make it in the movies. Like the Kate Walsh character, I too lost my daughter. The day after Catherine died, I asked my sister to cut my hair short. I didn't want the greasy ponytail look like I saw in the movies. I got waterproof mascara because I figured I would be crying all the time and bleary eyed. Yeah, none of that happened. Instead, I got up, fixed my hair, didn't put on any makeup, and went on about my day.  People tell me all the time

So we survived our first holiday. It wasn't easy and I have had many moments of panic and sadness. I miss my girl so very much. There are moments that I still can't believe she is gone. I took the day off Wednesday to mentally prepare for the coming days. In years past, I would take off the day before Thanksgiving and Catherine and I would watch crappy Christmas movies until we ran out of time and raced around doing prep work for the holiday. This year, I spent the first half of the day watching crappy Christmas movies alone. Until Sandy came in and watched one with me. It helped with the anxiety and sadness of missing her. That afternoon, I picked up Katherine S. and she treated me to a massage. It was much needed and I felt more relaxed. Thursday morning the plan was to head over the Stranahan house in the morning to help prep. For some reason, I just couldn't get going. When we finally left, I had to swing by Sandy's house to drop something off. Another mother th

So here we are, the week of Thanksgiving. Our first major holiday without Catherine. We have vowed to do things our own way and in our own time. This Thanksgiving we let all our family know that we wouldn't be around this year. Some took it better than others but everyone was supportive and understanding. For us, doing Thanksgiving with family is a glaring reminder that Catherine isn't there. So we are doing it our way and going to the family of Catherine's best friend. I know, it seems weird. Her absence is known there BUT there is humor that is injected into the situation at every possible moment. I'm told things about Catherine that I didn't know. The Gayle to my Oprah is really good at listening but not dwelling. It isn't sad there. It is one of my happiest places and I am so happy they are including us this year. A new tradition and doing it our way. Next year will likely be different but this year is being spent how we want to spend it and on our terms.

I've mentioned sewing on this blog a lot. It is something that used to bring me great joy. It is something that I struggle with today. While I've started sewing again, I'm having a hard time with it. The few outfits I've tackled took less time than ever before. I couldn't figure out why. Never was I able to cut out a pattern for an outfit and have it completed in less than 2 hours. Until it dawned on me. Catherine isn't there. We used to chat while I sewed. Most times I couldn't hear her over the machine so I would stop sewing. Or she would play the ukulele and I would stop sewing and listen. It was time spent together. Catherine was such a different teenager than what I had expected. Whenever I got a new pattern or fabric, I would show her and she would love it! I would grade the pattern in such a way that we could both wear my creations. What 16 year old would proudly wear a "mom-made" shirt or dress to school in this day and age? When I star

I've always promised full disclosure on this blog. Where we are, what we are doing, and how we are doing. For 2 months I've been fighting the guilt. Today it got to me and it hit me hard. For those of you that don't know, I was 19 when I got pregnant with Catherine. It was scandalous. I was unmarried and my prospects didn't look good for the future. People said there was no way I could raise a child. They said that being born from a teenage mother, her odds weren't good for a future. She likely would get pregnant before she graduated, if she even graduated. One time I mentioned that if I ever had another daughter, I would name her Molly. Someone told me that I should focus on actually raising the daughter I had because I was doomed to fail. It was rough. And I focused all my time and energy into raising Catherine. One of my favorite teachers once told me that the best revenge is to prove someone wrong. So that is what I did. I set out to prove everyone wrong. Ca

Some days just suck. I think everyone has had a day that sucks this week. Today is one of those days that I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water. I tried very hard today. I worked to fake it until I could make it. But for some reason the anxiety held on strong. We have a hard and fast rule in this house that we don't decorate for Christmas until the day after Thanksgiving. I've never broken that rule. Until this year. My thinking is that if we put Christmas up now, it might make the transition smoother. I don't know if we can say to the kids, "Hey! We survived Thanksgiving, now let's survive Christmas." For us, Thanksgiving has never been a holiday that much mattered. We've done the family thing but we don't have many traditions. Mainly it has been Josh, myself, and Catherine. The baby joined the crew 2 years ago. We decided to do our own thing this Thanksgiving and make a new memory. It will just be too hard going to our families'

One of the things I've dealt with over the last 2 months is the issue of forgiveness. It's a tough one. There is a list, and while it isn't very long, it is still there. Catherine's father, the other half of her DNA, wasn't around. Ever. When he did the occasional show up, he caused her great stress and pain. One time I watched her break out into hives when she saw him. He owed (and still does) a huge amount of child support. He didn't show up to the funeral or visitation. Or any other event in her life. He missed birthdays and holidays. When she was 4, she announced at Thanksgiving that her dad drove around with his beer between his legs. I could tell all manners of stories about this man. But at the end of the day, he gave me the greatest gift. He gave me Catherine. Imagine my surprise today when I found out he was unhappy with the obituary and called the funeral home and newspaper to have it changed. He wanted to be completely removed from the obituary. He

When Catherine died we immediately started taking inventory of her stuff. We found her car keys, wallet, backpack, and other items that could give us clues as to what happened. She had done her laundry the night before, she left her band bag in the car since she had late practice, she brought her backpack in and did her homework. The one thing we couldn't find were all her flutes. It stressed us out. They were her prized possession. When I started band many, many years ago, my parents got me a flute. It was a Selmer and pretty nice. It was the flute that I learned on until my parents bought me a REALLY nice flute. When Catherine started playing the flute, I gave her my Selmer. It made sense. Through the years, my dad bought her a Baldwin that played better than the Selmer. On her 15th birthday he bought her the same REALLY nice flute that he got me at that age, and on her 16th birthday my dad bought her a piccolo. That is a total of 4 flutes and a piccolo in this house. Initially