Sunday, November 25, 2012

Bad Things and Good People


A sunrise will always remind me that I am not in charge.
Early one morning, a few weeks before Kelci's accident, I was walking my dogs as I do most days.  It was summer, end of June, and the sun had just risen and a soft, misty dew fog enveloped the neighborhood. Others were seldom moving around at this time, and the solitude always gave me a sense of pure peace.  During this quiet time, random thoughts often popped into my head giving me compelling things to ponder.  One particular thought stuck with me so much so that I wrote it down upon my return home.  For weeks I sporadically thought of it, and after the accident I realized how prophetic it actually was.

What if bad things happen to good people so that others can learn from them.  Maybe through them, by the way they carry themselves, by the way they handle bad situations with grace and dignity, others will learn lessons.

When I first had the thought, I never once suspected it was a message to me, about me, but this seems to have become my life. It's not a job I ever wanted, or even thought I could handle, but here I am trying to embrace it.  Being a "poster child" for parents who lost children (or for those who have lost in general) is surely not what I want to be, yet it brings me comfort when something I say or do helps someone else, so reluctantly, I accept it.

In any event, the way I'm handling this is the only way I know how.  This is me.  I don't do what I do for others.  I just do what I do to survive, to some how make sense of this senseless situation.  To some how find goodness where none should seemingly exist.  I have found goodness in the kindness and generosity of others.  I have found goodness it finding ways to do good, positive things ins Kelci's memory.  I have found goodness in all that I still have.  My quest for sanity and understanding keeps pointing me to focus on inner strength, peace and hope and that manifest outwardly as strong and to some gives a sense that I'm "handling things well". 


Kelci and Michelle, San Fransisco, CA, June 2012
To that I say, as I say to a lot of things these days, "it is, what it is". I'm not doing anything any different then I would tell others to do. I'm not as strong as some might thing I am. I am just doing the best I can with the circumstances I have been forced to live with. You would be really surprised at what you can handle and how you handle things when you aren't given a choice.
I consider myself a good person. Since the accident, I have definitely question why this sort of thing happens to good people. I've even questioned a time or two if maybe I wasn't good enough and that I somehow brought this punishment onto myself. I know this isn't true. It's normal to question and ask why and have doubts when you are trying to answer the unanswerable.

Mostly, I just try to be a good person, and I try to focus on positive things instead of negative.  I did that before, and try even harder now.  Some days it's a real struggle and I have to fight real hard to get it right, but I do, because it's what I thing is the best.  I might not be right, and what I do might not be what is best for everyone, but it works for me, and right now that has to be my focus.  Much of my strength and courage comes from repeatedly asking the question, "What would Kelci want me to do?"  Knowing she would want me to find a way to be happy and help others keeps me going.  I know that she would be proud of me for trying to keep my head up, so I challenge myself for her.

There are some people who believe I might not be grieving enough.  That I'm pretending all is well and suppressing my emotions.  They are well meaning, but truthfully don't really know.  Dark moments creep in daily, how could they not.  Fortunately, these moments are reserved for my closest inner circle.  I am grateful that most of the world sees my strength and dignity, and I suppose I instinctively just know when and where I can be completely venerable. That's when the tears flow more easily and the unbearable grief is fully exposed. Often, this is when I'm all alone. It comes out, that's the important part. The whole world does not need to see me fall apart.

Each new day is different. 
Of this I'm sure, because it wasn't pretty when strangers on a plane got a glimpse of me in full on meltdown.  They had no idea why I was there, and I tried to hide it as best I could, unfortunately, covering my face with my coat was the only option available at the time.  I don't like to make others uncomfortable, and truthfully I'd rather show others that there might be another way.

I've been told I am teaching people trough my example.  It was never my intention, but perhaps I am.  Perhaps this is what was meant to be.  Perhaps the message was always intended for me.

 

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Thankful, in spite of...

 
I orignally posted this on Facebook, and like others, I've transfered it here to keep my thoughts all in one place, something that eludes me in reality.  Thanksgiving, for me, was not as horrible as I anticipated.  The nine mile run I chose to do in the morning helped with that I'm sure, as did the amazing people that I chose to surround myself with.  My family is a blessing and my strength. 
 
I know this isn't something that will work for everyone, but I put things here that help me deal with my grief.  Being around people, talking about Kelci, and having the percpective that holidays will happen wether I want them to or not and not giving them power help me.  What I mean by not giving them power is I choose to look at them as just another day.  My thoughts were this "I got through yesterday without Kelci, so I'll try again today, so what if it's Thanksgiving, it's just another day." They are all hard, but I choose to find ways to make them bearable. 
 
Posted to Facebook:
 
Most people would easily forgive me if I didn't do a typical "I'm thankful for" post this year. I have many reason to resist. I could be angry at the world, but I'm not. I have a darn good reason to be bitter, but I'm not. I'm sad, a piece of me forever will be, but I'm also so very thankful for so many things. I am thankful for my amazing daughter, Michelle , and son,  Brian, who both, in spite of everything, can still find reasons to smile and laugh and make other people so happy. 
 
I am thankful for my strong, handsome and incredibly sweet husband, Ray, who without, I would be lost. 
 
I am thankful for the rest of my family, near and far, that have done more for me than I can ever repay. Thank you for being there for me. 
 
I am thankful for the amazing friendships that have both formed and strengthened over this year. My world is immensely brigther because of all of you. I am thankful for all the prayers that have been said on our behalf, for all the dinners that have been cooked for us, for all the smiles and hugs we have recieved, for every little kindness that has been shown to us these past 4 months. They have given me more strength than you will ever know. 
 
I am thankful that Kelci's peaceful, loving spirit has touched so many lives and that her light will shine forever. I am so grateful for all the wonderful moments that I was blessed by her presence. Her time here was cut short in quantity, but she made up for it in quality, and the time we had was so overwhelming abundant it will carry us through a lifetime. I am thankful that love is never ending. 
 
I have known great saddness, but I have also been blessed with so much. I have shed more tears than I could ever count, but have spent hours laughing (with many extra laugh lines to prove it) and smiling too. My heart is forever broken, but patches of love and hope can hold it together. Love is strong glue. Give extra thanks for all you have this year and extra hugs to those you love. Happy Thanksgiving, much love and many blessings to all of you. Now, forever and always I am with Kelci.

Monday, November 5, 2012

Holidays

I'm trying hard not to think about the upcoming holidays, but it's pretty hard not to do when I'm constantly bombarded with holiday related stuff.  From overheard conversations at work, to shelves in stores already filled with holiday staples and newspapers overstuffed with holiday fliers.  A couple of months ago I came home almost every day to a mailbox full of sympathy cards. That dwindled as the weeks passed and it's now been replaced with an onslaught of catalogs and advertisements filled with great buys and holiday cheer.

Trick-or-treat, Thanksgiving Feasts and Christmas don't stop just because someone is grieving.  What will we do is the big question.

We've already decided that we will be doing things different. We need new things to focus on because the old traditions and the way things used to be have been ripped to shreds.  Normal no longer exists here.

This includes a Thanksgiving morning 9-mile race for my son, Brian, and I and two of our friends. We'll be running as Team Kelci in our tie dye t-shirts, and maybe after I'll be to tired to focus on anything but making the turkey.  Any other non-traditional things are welcome that day too.  I've been tossing around an open house pot luck so we can fill the house with food, family and friends.


Christmas hasn't even entered the thought pattern yet. It's there, but I'm choosing not to accept it.  It's excruciating just hearing other people talk about there plans and knowing that I'm going to have to live through this.  I have thought of something to do leading up the day to give us something positive to thing about.

When Kelci was a little girl, first or second grade, so 6 or 7, our wonderful neighbor Mrs. Smith gave her a pine tree shoot that she had received from the Arbor Day Foundation.  We planted that little tree by the house and then had to replant it a few years later when realized how big it was going to grow.  Each year it grew taller and taller and fuller and fuller and Kelci never let us forget that it was her tree.  Kelci's tree is now about 20 feet tall and sits in the middle of our front yard.  Not the best planned tree placement, but it's there and it's staying right where it is.

This year, I'd like to turn Kelci's tree into a Peace and Love Tree for the holidays, maybe keep it up through February (her birthday and Valentine's Day), as a tribute to her, and hopefully as a way to bring some comfort to all of us in what we are anticipation being a really tough time.

Ray, Brian and Michelle like the idea of something different too, and we have asked family and friends to help us fill the tree with peace signs and hearts or whatever symbolizes peace and love to them. When the idea came to me and I started planning it, I realized it gave me something to look forward to and to even get a little excited about for the holidays.  Keeping busy and doing good things in Kelci's honor have held me together, so I'm going to keep on going with what is working.

In the weeks after the accident the amazing outpouring of messages and cards we received helped so much.  They brought us so much comfort, and even now, we re-read them over and over, and they still bring comfort. Maybe the tree will work a little magic too. I'm hoping it will be like that with new ornaments on the tree. Imagining a great big tree smack dab in the middle of our yard being filled with beautiful little random tributes to my daughter puts a smile on my face and peace in my heart.  It's right out there in the yard for anyone to access, and honestly, we all think it might give us a nice diversion.  I'm pretty sure an outdoor tribute, on her tree, would make Kelci smile too.

Right now, the plan is to have a tree lighting on December 1st (my motto remains no Christmas before the Christmas month, how odd that one tradition still clicks) and perhaps include a casual hot chocolate and soup social--Brian has agreed to let the RV he purchased be the serving station in the driveway. 
This new life is very hard, every day is a challenge, special days bring even greater challenges.  Doing things like this, planning things for Kelci, to honor her, gives our family something to look forward to...it's different, but it's what we have now. A wise and wonderful friend of Kelci's reminded me that together with the help of each other we'll get through this.

We are also going to organize a food collection to stock the shelves of the Back Mountain Food Pantry in Trucksville and the Seven Loaves Soup Kitchen in Tunkhannock (I still have to get in touch with them to see what their greatest need is) and make the donations there in Kelci's name. Living well and doing good things to honor Kelci are part of our new normal and we are hoping that others will continue to help us by helping out. All we can do is hope that doing things like this eases some pain and makes the holidays just a bit more bearable.