Thanks

Thanks to everyone for supporting me through one of the toughest days of my life. I was just browsing through the history on my sitemeter, and it is great to see you all on there. Your support and encouragement has sustained me, and I can't thank you enough for being there for me when it really matters. Thanks for the emails and chats on facebook, and for just helping me get past one of the most difficult times of my life.

I Survived!

I survived my dad's wedding.

I wasn't sure I would make it through the morning. I got up in more than plenty of time, but I just couldn't stop crying. Once I finally got it all together, I went as planned to take flowers from my backyard to put on my mom's grave on the way out of town. Then the tears started again, and I was mad because I already had my makeup all done!

I almost got it together by the time I picked up the girls, and Rachel brought me a whole role of toilet paper to help me with the runny nose and watery eyes. They were bloodshot at midway, but good to go by the time I got to St. Joe.

The wedding was outside on the porch of a bed and breakfast. Dad and Martha both looked very nice...really everyone looked nice. They started the ceremony by remembering those who have gone before. Dad took a bright pink rose and said...in memory of Ann Heflin...and then put it in a big vase, and so my tears were starting again. The rest of the roses were off-white, Martha took one and said the same for her sister Marcy. Then dad did one in memory of Brian, and I lost it. I probably looked like I was at a funeral. I wanted to shout out, I have been crying all day! It is kind of like when you have the flu, that once you have thrown up already 3 or 4 times that day, it happens so easily! Bad comparison, but you get my point. Then Martha and Dad switched off, also honoring my dad's parents, my mom's parents who just loved my dad, Martha's parents and grandparents. I didn't expect my mom to be mentioned at my dad's wedding, and I guess it does say a lot about how Martha has accepted that my mom was a great love of my dad's life.

The reception was really nice, and Dad was right, the food was delicious. They had a nice spread, and it was good to have a variety that the kids also liked. We had a funny moment during the reception when Martha told Tori that Devin was her new cousin. (Devin is Martha's only child, and now my younger stepbrother). Everyone was like, huh? And then there was a discussion, and someone said...he's her uncle! He seemed pretty surprised to realize he was an uncle now. Then Tori said...so when he has kids they will be my cousins...and Devin was SUPER surprised! I reminded him that there are 8 of them, and Karis said she would make him a list of uncle duties. It was a good laugh, and it was nice to just enjoy the moment.

Reflections on Life as I Know It

Life as I know it today will change completely tomorrow. I am gaining a stepmother, as well as a younger stepbrother. My dad is getting married. And as much as I want to be happy, I can't help thinking that this is all happening because my mom is dead. Life wasn't supposed to be like this.

The last few night have been hard for me to get to sleep. I crashed last night around 2:30 a.m. after finishing another coat of paint (more later), and then I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing. I am super excited to be in my parents' home now, to have the same address as they did, and actually the same address as my grandparents, whose house was on this land before this house. Yet, last night all I could think as I laid in bed was this was the room where my mom died. As crazy as it sounds, it almost felt as if this home betrayed her...my mind was thinking...THIS is where it all changed! This is where the nightmare started, the one that I can't seem to wake up from.

Parents die. It is supposed to be like that. I sometimes wonder what it is I expected to be able to do about it. I guess I expected God to let her grow old with my dad. I expected my kids to grow up with her at their ballgames, and for my nieces and nephews to know her also. I expected my parents to travel and enjoy the time after the kids leave home. I expected so much more than life has given me.

So am I ungrateful? I feel so guilty to be ticked that I was robbed, when I am so blessed with my children and the rest of my family. I want to call my mom and talk to her. I want to change to be more like her. I learned so much that I want to build on from her, and also things I want to do differently. She would freak out about Rachel having a boyfriend, while I, on the other hand, am just going with the flow, laying down the rules and keeping the lines of communication open (not that I'm not a little freaked out). Even so, I am literally sick that I can't talk to her about this.

I have mixed feelings. My feelings aren't really what matters. I don't have a choice in any of it, and I supposed I am glad of that because I have a hard enough time keeping my own life in order, let alone making decisions about others. I will tell you, it feels as if tomorrow will be as hard to watch my dad marry someone else (only because my mom is dead) as it was to see her lying dead on a table in the E. R. that night. It is something I am not sure I will ever be ready for, or used to. My mind can't wrap itself around being with someone for 30+ years and losing them, and then even wanting to be with someone else besides them. I am at a completely different place in my life after Brian's death, but even today, almost 27 months later, he is still all I want. Yes, my kids are still young, and I'm not alone; but my mind sees no desire for anything but Brian.

I'm not judging my dad or anyone else really. I have come to realize each person is different and each person handles their grief in a way that fits them best. Still, I find it harder for me to really understand my dad when I feel about Brian the way I do. We never really took care of any of my mom's things. One day her clothes were there, and then they were gone. We did look through some pictures last week, which was the first time since the day she died.

Yesterday, Tye asked me...where are Daddy's clothes. I was caught off guard. I felt sad that I had taken them from my closeet, that Tye didn't have the chance to see them. I still have them. I said...I have them in some boxes, and I was going to give some of them to people who might need clothes, and then make a quilt with some other ones. He responded...can I wear them?

My heart sunk. The poor child is grasping at a connection with his daddy. Then before I could respond, he said...where are his clothes when he was a little boy? I told him we will have to ask Grandma, but they are probably old and she gave them away a long time ago like I give away his clothes.

I intend this summer to go through more of Brian's things, and to pack away a lot for Tye to decide what to do with. I thought I would sort things, and I still will to a point. But I want Tye to have that chance when he is older. Maybe it is my stretch in trying to be sure Brian's existence is real, that he was here, and he had these interests etc.

So my dad's wedding comes almost without doing anything with my mom's things. I told my dad I hope someone takes care of my things when I die. I dug into my own personal box of cards from when my mom died, and reread about a dozen. It seems different to read now, almost like my head is more clear and I can take in what it really means. I can't even seem to begin to sort those types of things from Brian because it just hurts too bad.

I have started painting at my house. It is looking a lot different. I will take pictures sometime when it is finished.

Anyway, thanks for listening. Say some prayers that the Heflin kids survive tomorrow.