Showing posts with label jamie/andy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jamie/andy. Show all posts

3.29.2012

still grateful...after all these years


i started a gratitude journal about 7 years ago, while attending the murder trial for my little sister and brother-in-law. i was trapped in a hotel room in macon, georgia for over 3 weeks and somehow ~ miraculously ~ i was able to find 5 things to be thankful for.  on days i struggle to find even one...i force myself to continue this exercise. the entries are all captured in the same little notebook i started in 2005, each year seems to increase in number of entries. on a day that started out in the yucks, i'd like to share a few things i've shown gratitude for:

  • compassionate strangers
  • finishing a book
  • walking in the sand
  • laughter
  • creative outlets
  • my family
  • good hair days
  • the back porch
  • my legs {to run}
  • hummus
  • clean laundry
  • talking to mom
  • learning
  • falling in love
  • the opportunity to grow
  • mechanical pencils
  • fresh air
  • forehead kisses
  • a full belly
  • evening strolls
  • teamwork
  • meatloaf
  • hope

2.23.2012

imprint


i see this image and think of the ways we leave an imprint on those around us. how those we have loved leave a mark on our hearts, how we in turn snuggle our way into theirs. i have been thinking a lot lately about the impact i have on my patients and the families with whom i may only meet once or twice. and i reflect on the indelible marks they have left on my soul. 

i have been missing my jamie-girl lately and dedicate this post to her…to the innumerable ways she impacted my life, in the 24 years she was a part of mine.

3.07.2010

epitaph

the following is one of my favorite parts of shabbat services...known as the kaddish. it is a time to reflect on the loved ones we've lost and meditate on the meaning of love and loss, of life and death.

by Merrit Malloy

When I die
Give what's left of me away
To children
And old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
Cry for your brother
Walking the street beside you.
And when you need me,
Put your arms
Around anyone
And give them
What you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,
Something better
Than words
Or sounds.

Look for me
In the people I've known
Or loved,
And if you cannot give me away,
At least let me live in your eyes
And not on your mind.

You can love me most
By letting
Hands touch hands.
By letting
Bodies touch bodies.
And by letting go of children
That need to be free.

Love doesn't die.
People do.
So, when all that's left of me
Is love,
Give me away.

1.05.2010

miss you...

jame-
i miss you today. i think it’s that the holidays are over…all that twinkle and coziness are gone. back to normal.

i always wonder what normal is anyway. for the last five years i’ve thought of the time when you were alive as “normal.” and i always talk to my patients about “the new normal” – that adjustment period after a traumatic event – learning to live again. have i finally adjusted?

i sometimes wonder what my life would be like if you were still here. where would i be living? what would i be doing? but then i stop. i promised myself five years ago that i would never do the what if thing. and i like to think that you had a lot to do with the life i have now. the master’s degree, the job helping others, the amazing husband. you gave me the strength to pursue these things. your commitment to andy and faith in marriage showed me that i could be brave in love. you helped me reach this normal, and for that i will always be grateful.

so i will take this time to miss you. to remember the fun times, to peek at the scrapbook and photo albums. i will cry when i need to and not feel silly when david asks me what’s wrong. i will remember that grief is a lifelong journey, that although it gets easier to traverse, the road is very long.

and that i will always have my angel to show me the way.

love you.

11.17.2009

bloggy love

i cannot believe i forgot to post about this...i was so happy when i saw it up. and the image was perfect, i had goose bumps when i saw it. sami, over at lifelaughsandlemmings, highlights bloggers who have overcome obstacles in their lives (and survived!). she featured my letter to jamie the other day and there have been some beautiful comments since. smile.

9.13.2009

discovery #8

that i'm not sure what happens when we die.

i finished the book today and most of the last 50 pages deals with death and the afterlife. david is confronting a lot of these subjects in the hospital chaplain training, so we talked about the whole heaven-hell-atone-for-your-sins-thing today. i realized that despite the fact that i have strong beliefs on what i believe happened to my sister after she was killed, i've never really thought that deeply about whether i would label those ideas as "heaven."

in an attempt to begin putting words to my inner-most thoughts, as i hope someday to add to the literature on death/dying, here goes nothin. i believe that when jamie and andy died their souls went (somewhere) that was perfectly made for them--lots of puppies (they always wanted a dog!), babies (they were bound to be incredible parents), swimming pools (j), golf courses (a), and no pain or fear or regret. although i've never used the word heaven, i suppose i do adopt one common attribute: i look up. i throw kisses to the sky. thank them for a beautiful sunrise or sunset. and generally assume they look down to check-in from time to time, just to make sure we're all still smiling.

david jokes that although i don't identify as religious, i espouse more of the values than half the church-goers he's met. i describe myself as questioning--and this was true even before jamie's death. i'm not sure what i believe...and luckily, i married a man who's cool with that. i like the flexibility of my spirituality, it's allows me to adopt parts from various perspectives and create what feels right for me. so, do i know what happens when we die? no. nobody does.

but i like what kubler-ross says: "when we have passed the tests we were sent to Earth to learn, we are allowed to graduate. we are allowed to shed our body, which imprisons our soul the way a cocoon encloses the future butterfly, and when the time is right we can let go of it." and i like the idea of "the five people you meet in heaven" and the impact that we have on those who we meet in our lives. and i like the thought that my sister can take a break from the loveliness i hope she is enjoying and feel the love i'm sending out into the universe.

8.17.2009

happy and exhausted


the fundraiser was a huge success!!! we raised $4500 and my painting went for $100...i couldn't believe it! and i'm so happy that it went to my favorite aunt carol! i'm totally exhausted from 4 days with my cousins...ready to watch a movie with my sweetie and finally sleep in my own bed!

as for my discovery this week...i can't decide what to highlight. i think i'll sleep on it. but i did just discover facebook. my friends have been bugging me forever...i have an account, but i only go there every 4-6 months and accept friend requests. tonight i actually made a couple comments and posted pictures. what is happening to me.....

8.11.2009

wet paint


getting closer....

7.05.2009

in memory...

To my angel,

Running through sprinklers, building forts, putting your hair in French braids…being a kid was so much fun! Sometimes I would forget we were sisters, we were the greatest playmates. Then came thirteen, you could never understand why my phone was more important than you. Boyfriends took the place of playmates and there wasn’t much room for a little sister.

Looking through the scrapbook now, you hardly notice the gap, the time where I took you for granted, assuming you’d be there waiting when I finally grew out of it. I remember the shift…me leaving for college, you switching high schools and terrified to start over. We were equals again, worried about what the future would hold.

For me it turned out to be an Advertising major and a job in Chicago. For you, an off-and-on boyfriend from our hometown. Hundreds of letters and e-mails later, you had a degree and a fiancĂ© – that funny redhead from high school. Planning the wedding, sending you off to Georgia, who would have thought: an Air Force wife! Visits to the base were always exciting, you were so happy there. A beautiful home, a wonderful husband, and plans to move-in with me in Chicago when his tour was done.

Originally, I set out to write a thank you letter, but this has turned into a trip down memory lane. It seems as though it happens all the time now, recounting the memories. I took for granted that you’d always be there – for my wedding, the babies, the future. I took for granted the family you kept together, and the new one you were just beginning.

When that monster took both of you away from us, I never thought I’d have a reason to be thankful. But as the years slowly pass, I realize how many things I need to thank you for…

Teaching me to live each day to the fullest, and never take anything for granted. We never know what tomorrow will bring, so I make sure that those people closest to me know how much I love them. Since we’re only on this earth for a limited time, it is so important to make each day count.

Giving me the courage to start a new life without you. Moving to Texas and starting graduate school was definitely not in the original plan! But without you in Chicago, it just wasn’t the same future I had always envisioned. I had to make a change, and in it I have created an amazing new life for myself.

Creating a family that has endured this horrible tragedy. Even when you’re gone, you’re still “the glue” that holds us together. Having the opportunity to spend time as a family has allowed us all to heal, and to keep your memory alive.

Showing me the importance of kindness. And that helping others is far more rewarding than a big paycheck! Social work is my calling, but until you died I never explored the option to change careers. I hope that in some small way I can make you proud and continue your legacy of helping others.

Allowing me to become my best self. Through traumatic events in our lives we often focus on the negative, but I found some of my greatest strengths as a result of my grief. We often underestimate our capabilities, and I have you to thank for uncovering some of mine.

When you were murdered, a part of me died with you. But in its place has grown a new strength and reason for living. Growing up, you looked up to me, the one with all the answers. But now I see that the tables have turned, and it’s me who looks up to you.

Love,
Your older spinster

7.01.2009

4th of july

heading into the holiday weekend is bittersweet these days...as a july baby and pool rat, i always loved this summer holiday. but as we near the 5-year anniversary of jamie/andy's death, i'm getting that uneasy feeling that seems to creep in around this time. galveston is finally back to normal after hurricane ike, so i'm looking forward to spending a relaxing weekend with the fam! somehow the sound of the ocean always seems to calm us during the difficult times. i'm planning to do a "memorial" section of this blog and add a letter i submitted for a book a year or so ago...hopefully i can get it up on the 5th.

i can't believe they've been gone 5 years...it's amazing how much things can change. a quick overview of the changes i've undergone since 7.5.04:

2004: single, smoker, dead-end job, apartment in chicago, quarter-life crisis...need i go on?
2009: married, smoke-free 10 months, master's degree and awesome job, house in houston, full-circle-self-discovery-lovin-my-30's...i could go on and on...