Headstone

We (Dad, Renae, Danny and myself) chose a headstone yesterday.  I'm glad we waited six months to do it, it would have been much harder if we'd attempted to right away.  Renae and I have been looking online for the last couple of weeks, trying to find something we liked.  We thought we'd go somewhere local instead, and I'm glad we did.  It had to have been a little weird for Dad, as he decided to get a companion stone with his name on it as well.  I think it's going to be nice though. 

My Mom wanted to be buried in Paradise by my brother.  His headstone has a mountain scene with an elk and a fish jumping out of a stream (Daryn loved nature and hunting).  The one we designed for Mom and Dad has a similiar mountain scene.  Mom's side will also have a spray of roses and a humingbird (some of her favorite things) and Dad's side will have a guitar leaning up against a tree.  The people we are getting it from are going to email us the design in about a week so we can make any changes if we need to. 

We went to Costco after that and had Dad's hearing checked.  He's been having a hard time for awhile with higher pitched noises (like my voice:/).  They tested him and then let him walk around the store with a pair of trial hearing aids.  It was awesome!!!  He could actually hear us easily for the first time in years.  I wish he could have just walked out with the trial pair, but between trying to schedule for a fitting and ordering his new pair in, it's going to be about a week and a half before he gets them.  Very happy that he will be able to hear again though:)

Derrick and I are going to Polson today while the kiddies go to their Gramma and Grampa's.  We have some friends who have a batch of motel rooms they need to use (?very unclear on details- Derrick did all the arranging).  I'm not even really sure who all is going, except the couple who invited us, Hauns and Susan.  They are really sweet though, should be a nice time.

And now on to very important things, like drinking coffee and finishing the laundry. 

Not Alone

There is one sick little girl in this house right now.  Poor bebe.  She has a fever (gave her some tylenol about an hour ago, and she was finally able to go to sleep), and is feeling sick to her stomach.  It's going to be a long night- there is a bowl by the bed in preparation, and more tylenol ready to be dosed.  Might as well plan on getting sick myself too.  This is a three day weekend, so hopefully we'll have some time to recoupe.  At least Derrick made it home last night; a very happy thing for us:)

Talked to my brother Danny tonight.  Talked to Renae.  Talked to Dad.  The hard thing about grief is that even though you can talk to each other about it, you still have to do the work of really grieving on your own.  No one can do it for you, and you can't do it for any one else.  It really does help to talk to others who are going through loss though- makes you realize that a lot of the feelings we go through are just universal.  Plus, I admit it, pretty much every minute of the day at least a part of me is thinking about my Mom.  Everything relates to her.  Everything triggers memories of her.  I think about that last month of her life a lot.  It's stuff you can't just talk about 24/7 with anyone who crosses your path, however.  It is (for me) a very big relief to be able to talk about her, and all of these feelings that I'm going through, and to also hear others talk about her (or their lost loved one) and all of the feelings that they are experiencing too.

I wrote a blog this week and then deleted it because I thought it was too negative.  I'm going to really try not to let myself do that anymore.  Not all feelings are going to be positive right now- that has to be okay.  Walking though the hard feelings is the only way to get to the other side.  Think I'm gong to repost it here:

Broken Records
"If I had experienced different things, I would have different things to say."- Just read that. I like it. The author goes on to say," So often I have felt troubled and guilty bearing witness to my pain". It is so hard to express real feelings without feeling  bad for possibly depressing or horrifying your listener.  It requires faith in the other person, that they care enough to listen and are strong enough to handle what you are saying.  

I am home from work today. I went in for a little while this morning, but came home. I stayed home yesterday too. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. I don't know how people do this- go to work every day, whether they feel like they are bleeding internally or not. Even when my heart isn't hurting, I'm just so tired. Just want to sleep, and sleep... and sleep. I really do like my job. Before my mom died, I didn't dread going in. It is good for me- provides scructure for my day, allows me to be helpful and also contribute to our income. I like the people there very much. I like to be a dependable person and employee. I do deal with cranky people a lot, but that has always been part of working there- you just need to have some compassion and a sense of humor. It's just been harder to go there and deal with people- their frustration, anger, tragedies.  In a way it is good for me though- everyday I am reminded over and over that I am not the only one in this world dealing with loss. So many other people have so much more they are going through. If my misery needs company, I am in just the right place for it.

I know that dwelling on negative things accomplishes nothing except to create ruts in the inner workings of the mind that are hard to get unstuck from. There were just so many things that happened or were said when everything was at its most vulnerable moment. Sometimes it's hard not to ruminate.

Need that serenity... to accept the things I cannot change. Also, need to keep thinking of the wonderful things in my life. My record is broken at the moment... might as well add the good stuff in there for it to keep skipping over too.

The Forty Dollar Goldfish

So, I was reading through some old blogs of mine, when I noticed the one about when my goldfish Fred died. I had just bought him a goldfish wife, who we hadn't named yet. She got the unfortunate name of "Fred's Widow" when he died within days of her purchase. I am sure she didn't care though.

What she might have cared about is the fact that by early winter I still had not taken her out of our little front yard pond. I would peek in now and then and say such things as,"I hope that little fish is okay!" or, "Hmm. I am afraid her chances INSIDE are much worse than this ice encrusted pond". I, after all, had unintentially murdered at least six of her goldfish brethren the winter before in an attempt to keep them alive inside. My lesson was learned. Rachel is a fish killer. But an apologetic one.

My brother Danny heard about my poor little fish one day when I was wondering out loud how long a fish can be frozen solid and yet still come back to life at Spring. Danny is good with fish. He manages to keep them alive for long periods of time. Clearly not a family trait. He volunteered to take my little goldfish into his fishtank, where he gave Fred's widow a lovely home for many months.

About a month ago she wore out her welcome. She grew ENORMOUSLY under his loving care. She is the size of an edible perch. Not only that, but she had taken to the charming habit of eating Danny's other fish. As snacks. It was time for Fred's Widow to come home.

I picked her up last weekend, determined not to kill her after the love and attention my bro put into keeping her alive. It is again too cold to put her in the pond, and she is much too big for a bowl. I had to buy a tank. Equipped with filter and heater. Fred's Widow is now living large (for a fifty cent goldfish bought with the intent of keeping another goldfish company who died within DAYS of her purchase...). And that is how my fifty cent goldfish turned into a forty dollar goldfish.