Hope

Monday was a really fun day. My partner in crime and I spent the day out and about. Our main goal was to drop instruments off from the middle school at a repair shop in Nashville but there was stuff to get into in that area. After dropping off the instruments, we hit the stores.

Our very first stop was Michael's Craft store, because you know we needed more craft stuff. We were walking up and down the aisles when the topic of the high school graduation came up. It is funny to me what can trigger a panic attack or an attack of grief. I've known it was coming and most days I'm okay with it. But for some reason, the grief hit fast and hard in that moment. I started to wander through the store, aimlessly, looking at things to get my mind off of it. Catherine and what would have been her high school graduation was renting a lot of space in my head. I felt the weight of sadness and the change was noticeable. Breathing through it or thinking ahead to the future wasn't working. The panic was coming in waves. For the first time in a LONG time, I took a xanax. And then I stopped and prayed. I just wanted hope. I asked God for hope and something to bring joy in a season that is going to be hard. About 20 minutes later, the panic had passed and I assured my partner in crime that I was fine. Because she totally knew something was up. The rest of the day was great. We hit all our favorite stores, ate a HUGE Italian dinner, and caught lots of sales. Our trip to Nashville to drop off instruments turned into a 12 hour day of fun. We even got the most delightfully tacky piece of wall art at Goodwill.

Reason #1,956,432 why we need "adultier" supervision

Tuesday started out with a doctors appointment. Josh took the morning off to go with me, as this has been an ongoing issue. I'm happy to report that improvement has been made and the possibility of surgery has been delayed. We came home and were working around the house when there was a knock at the door. Max was home sick and answered it. The man at the door asked Max if he could speak to his mother. Josh called me to the door and the man said "Hi, I'm Dwayne Reed and I'm here to give you a free roof." My cynical husband just looked at him and I was incredibly puzzled. 

So here is a little backstory. A few months ago, our dear friend Paul Thaxton called Josh and asked if he could enter us into a contest. Of course my husband asked about the catch. Paul told us that there is a roofing company that takes nominations at Christmas time for people that need a new roof. Paul is an amazing craftsman and knew the company and owners. If he said it was legit and they were a good company, we believed him. So Paul entered us into a Christmas contest for a new roof. If you have seen my roof, you know it is something that we need to replace in the very near future but it is an astronomical expense. 

Back to Tuesday...."Hi, I'm Dwayne Reed and I'm here to give you a free roof." My husband's look told me that he was about to ask the catch. We had forgotten about the contest. Dwayne then informed us that we won the contest. We won the free roof. I burst into tears. Hope. It happened. There was hope. When I prayed Monday for hope, I wasn't praying for anything in particular. Just something that would bring hope and maybe even some joy. I was in shock. We won a new roof. My first questions was how? Dwayne told us that they had the names in the hat and were shuffling them before they drew the name and one piece of paper came flying out of the hat and landed on the floor. They said that whatever name was on the paper on the floor was the winner. It was ours. The next thing I said was "Catherine" and shook my head. The tears still flowed. Happy tears. Joy. Hope. Relief. Later that afternoon I realized how adult it was to be excited over a free roof. 

Grief is ever changing. I laugh when people say it is a process. I like to think of grief as being a bipolar, schizophrenic wacko that likes to mess with the grieving at the worst time. Some days are really okay. I find joy and hope and blessings. Other days, it sucks. I miss Catherine. I'm mad that she isn't graduating. I'm sometimes jealous of those with kids that are graduating this year. Some days I'm furious. Catherine worked so hard in school. She was in every extra curricular activity she could do and worked hard for her grades. Counting Pre-K, she completed 12 years of school. That is 12 years of school and achievements that are erased. They no longer matter. They don't count. There is no finish line. They will skip over the name Catherine Madeline Batcheler at graduation in May. Only her immediate family will remember that hard work. I fight with that anger more often than I would like. And so to counter balance that, I look for hope, joy, blessings, and pray that they come when I need them the most. I find joy in the senior pictures that hang on the wall. I find joy and hope in the Class of 2019 that will graduate in May and go out into the real world. I've known some of those kids since they were 4 years old. I like to think that hope, joy, and blessings are the antidote to ugly moments of grief.

Monday had a moment of ugly grief that threatened to ruin the day and then Tuesday brought hope and joy. And while it didn't erase the grief, it caused the grief the retreat. Even for a short while.