Monday, July 13, 2009

not only am i gonna flip the fucker off, i just might punch him too.

i love boats.
like absolutely love love love them. am fascinated by them. all different kinds.
this is one i found during my last trip to astoria.
some day i will paint this boat.
you know, when i paint again.
some day.
i hate shopping.
i would rather do anything than run around all fucking day shopping.
had my appointment with therapist dude today.
i asked him how i get the images of james on life support and actually dying out of my brain. those images keep replaying themselves inside my head. and i'd like it to stop. his answer: i can't. those memories are a part of james, just like all the good memories. uh....not the answer i was looking for. he says i need to bombard myself with positive images of james. that that will help keep the horrific memories from coming so often.

we then talked about how one day, when the boys are older, i will have to explain to them that i was the one who decided to have their father taken off the ventilator. and why and how i came to that decision. not a conversation i'm looking forward to. but the boys deserve to know the whole story of their father. when they are older.

the night before last i was reading story to the boys in alexander's room. we were all piled on alexander's bed when ethan asked me where daddy is. as in, where is his body. ethan thinks james is now a pile of bones. he wanted to know if daddy was buried. i had a service for james (and the boys were there). at the time it didn't occur to me that they would ever wonder where his body was. so we had the discussion of if a person doesn't want to be buried, they can be cremated. then i had to explain the process of cremation (at least so they would understand and begin to grasp the concept...i did not go into full details). i did not tell them where james' ashes are. but of course, alexander asked. i told him they are somewhere safe. i didn't tell alexander where they are because i didn't want him to be scared or spooked, or feel strange....james' ashes are, in fact, in this some point we will go together (the boys and i), and spread james' ashes in the right place. so i had to explain to the boys that sprinkling the ashes of their father will be a sign of respect, it will be a part of the full cycle of life. we will be returning their father to earth. to nature. with this ceremony/process will come closure. and dudes. that is a lot of shit to explain to an almost 6 year old and an 8 year old.

therapist dude then decided it would be good for us to discuss my apparent guilt over my decision to have james taken off life support. he was pushing me today. and i was getting pissed. pissed because 1) i hate to cry. and he was making me cry. and 2) well....he was just pissing me off. he says he knows he is on target with me when he sees that fiery/don't fuck with me/you're pissing me off look in my eye. he was so there today.

i know i have healed some. but, apparently, am still raw when it comes to this particular topic. i know it was the right thing to do. when blood clots go to your brain, and leave you paralyzed, and your brain bleeds...bad things happen. your brain stops knowing what to do and how to do it. you are no longer eligible for a heart transplant. when your heart, which was only functioning at 10%...can't take the additional stress on your body and pretty much quits working....there really was no other choice. james would not have wanted to live like that. he couldn't have survived. i know all these facts. but even so, it's a big deal. and something i will always question myself about. i know deep in my heart it was the right thing to do. i knew, when making the decision, that some day i would have to explain all of this to the boys. knowing that i was still able to come to the decision that i did.

i just left alexander's room. he was crying. crying because he misses james. misses his daddy. i was in bed with him, cuddling him, holding him, talking to him....telling him it's okay to be sad. okay to cry. he is so very sad because he knows he will never see his daddy again. i told him yes, daddy is physically gone. and it's not the same...but....he is still a part of our lives. i told alexander i will help him remember the things about james that he needs to know. that we will find a way to be happy again. and will do it all the while remembering james, making him a part of the boys' lives as much as i can....all the while i find a way to go on and be happy too. it seems impossible to me. but i know it's not. it IS what is going to happen.

so yeah. good luck to myself on the yoga thing tonight. so fucken not happening. lol... i think it will be next to imossible for me to quiet my mind tonight. but i will try.

oh, ethan lost is first tooth today too. omg. please please please don't let me forget to take the tooth and put money under his pillow tonight. because that would suck. he was so excited he could hardly stand it.


Misty said...

Hey, it's almost 12:30....go play tooth fairy! Congrats to Ethan. Was he excited?

Kimberly, you did do the right thing. Your boys will absolutely understand that when the time comes to tell them. They love you. They know you love their daddy. They trust you! Obviously. They aren't afraid to talk about their daddy. They aren't afraid to ask you about him. These are good things.

I can't wait to see the painting of that beautiful boat.

katrynka said...

I love that boat too!! You do not know me from Adam, so my thoughts on things will not mean much, but for what it is worth, here they are.

Thankfully I have not ever had to make the devastating decision that you had to make. I have been very close to the decision more than once. I am a pediatric physical therapist, and I work with kids who can have devastating diseases or events in their lives that lead to the need to make the decision you made.

I feel like what you did is making the more difficult choice, but the better choice. Medical technology is a two edged sword. Sadly you were struck by the bitter, mean side. Sometimes technology takes away the natural course of things, and not in a good way, so we have to make the difficult, tragic choices to rectify the situation.

I hope that the path for you and your boys will get better more rapidly. Keep trying to do good things for yourself.

QuirkyGirl said...

CRap! I'm reading this in my office and as soon as I read about Ethan's first lost tooth I knew I blew it big time!

Emma lost another tooth last night. She even looked at me with big, round eyes, nodding her head, saying things like "the TOOTH FAIRY comes tonight. Right? MOM?" She's almost 12 but hasn't started to cross the bridge that takes her from childhood yet. For that I'm gratful.

But true to scatterbrained self...I totally forgot. Thanks for the reminder. It's gonna cost me big tonight. I hope you did a better job of remembering than I did. LOL.

Just thought I'd send you a funny note about a mom who forgets shit...and not because I'm grieving. Just because I'm a mess. That's who I am. You're getting there, Kim. Every post I see new growth.

Anonymous said...

my heart aches for the three of you. i know exactly what your kids are feeling... i totally sympathize. my love.

Marieke said...

Oh dear sweet K. I've missed you. Sorry to have slipped away like that, caught up in my own crap.
One of your posts from the last couple of weeks really struck a cord with me. So true that suffering a major loss hardens you. I would agree with that. I know. It's been more than 30 years but the shield I put up after the event still hasn't been broken down totally. I don't think it ever will completely. I know in my mind I deserve to be loved but accepting it is something completely different.

If only you could take a step back and look at yourself. You have come such a long way already dear friend. It may not feel that way to you but you have. Trust me. You are so brave. Moving forward. Step by step. You may not know where your journey ends but there is forward motion in everything you do. That's positive K! That's huge! You'll find your own piece of paradise. Of that I am sure.

Anonymous said...

I know it's difficult to explain things like that to kids - shit - I had to explain it to my kids after my Mom died and that was hard enough... so to tell them those things about their Dad, that sucks ass, and I'm so sorry you had to do that. BUT - you did the right thing by being honest and truthful with them. They'll always appreciate that.

You are also very brave to be in therapy. I've had people tell me that I need therapy on more than one or, um, ten occasions (they're being totally serious) and I'm too chicken shit to go.

Okay - and why is my 8 year old suddenly calling me "Mom" today instead of "Mommy" - she just did that as I'm typing this. Ugh. When did that happen?

Anyway... you're being honest and true to yourself and to James. And that's the best gift you can give to your kids and to James' memory.