Archive for January, 2011

October 5, 2004

// January 28th, 2011 // No Comments » // From the forthcoming book "Losing Steve: One Mother's Journey Through Grief"

He’s here! Nick and Marisa’s baby boy, Ethan Nicholas Haas is here. October 5, 2004, 4:23 PM, 9lb, 3oz. Healthy! Beautiful! A perfect little baby face! Marisa did great! Nick still seems to be in awe! He was with her the entire time. They didn’t want anyone else in with them for the birth so Lydia and I waited in the full to overflowing waiting room with rest of the family.

At about 4:20 I grabbed my fellow “Grandma-in-Waiting” by the hand and we took a walk around the hallway toward Marisa’s room. Standing outside her closed door we could hear the lusty wail of a newborn, our mutual grandson. Lydia and I bear hugged each other before heading back to the waiting room to share the news. Nick met us there minutes later, red-eyed and still teary, and led the family to the room where we were given a proper introduction to Mister Ethan. The throng that had been filling the waiting room now filled the birthing room.

What a wonderful way to welcome the newest member of the family!

A new baby. A new beginning.

November 4, 2004

// January 27th, 2011 // No Comments » // Uncategorized

I have just been instructed (by my current bible study) to give my battles up to the Lord. In Him there is victory. I’m usually very good at this. I have learned to tenaciously hold on to my faith through many difficult opportunities throughout my life. Trials build faith as we watch God fight for us, provide for us, and repair our way. But I have lately been fighting a battle I hadn’t realized is a battle, within myself. I have been giving in to sorrow and regret. I am often plagued with memories of things I should have done differently with Steve.
One afternoon about eight months before he died we were talking about eulogies, using the funny form of the word (“u-goo-ga-lies”) from the movie “Zoolander”. I told him that as oldest son he would have to give a lovely speech at my funeral. He said, “Mom, you know I won’t be around for that. You can do one at mine.” What had been a playful conversation was turning into a stark reality that I wasn’t ready to face. I insisted that he would be around for mine and refused to entertain the idea that he wouldn’t, cutting off a perfect opportunity to discuss his limited future. I think I even got up to walk to another room to put an end to the discussion.
Text book denial. What gems might have come from this missed serendipitous conversation? Would he have been able to expose his heart? To share some side of himself that instead he had to keep buried to protect me from having to face his reality. The reality came anyway and a piece of Steve he could have shared with me remained his burden to bear alone. Now I carry a burden. The burden of knowing that I cheated him out of an opportunity to open up and perhaps to lighten his load just a little. I have to give this battle to God. It is my only path to victory over these spears that continually stab at my heart. In this victory I can live a life to honor the memory of Steve and give glory to God. I know that God and Steve have forgiven me, now I need to forgive me. Or, do I need only to accept God’s forgiveness? Whatever—I give this battle up to God. In him is my complete victory over deep sorrow and regret

From 2011

// January 25th, 2011 // No Comments » // Uncategorized

I recently read in a book by Bob Yehling ~ solitude is the necessary companion for writing. I’m sure I’ve read that before but…. I had no idea! I have been trying for the past four and a half months to keep up on my blog and work on my manuscript while hosting a family of four in our home. I started thinking I just wasn’t meant to be a writer because I couldn’t concentrate on my words through the frequent interruptions ~ kids squabbling and running through the house, adults carrying on conversations in the next room, someone hovering at my doorway “waiting till you have a minute so I can talk to you”. OY!

So I pretty much gave up on consistency until they found another place to stay.

That time has come!

My deadline for finishing the current draft of Losing Steve: One Mother’s Journey through Grief has passed…..and I am neither finished nor dead! So now I am working on both projects (Blog and manuscript) full time as my poor, uncomplaining, and uber supportive husband wastes away from neglect. Thank goodness he has his “Mafia Wars” to keep him company!
That said, it’s been two weeks since our house guests left and I am finally finding my groove again. I didn’t realize it would take time to adjust back to my normal life! It feels good to enjoy my quiet house during the day as I work on projects, get our space back in order, and then to welcome my husband home in the evenings without others vying for his attention.

So it’s back to work for me. The Writers’ Conference is coming up in three and a half weeks. I’m hoping to be finished with this draft by then…..

Peace be with you,

September 30, 2004

// January 5th, 2011 // No Comments » // From the forthcoming book "Losing Steve: One Mother's Journey Through Grief"

I have felt so much more “together” lately. The pain, grief, and guilt seem be evaporating, leaving just a mist. The fog is leaving my brain. I feel happy again. Now my core is happy with the shadow of sadness, not the other way around. I don’t feel the presence of my other self as heavily as I did before. I feel liberated. Thank you Lord for guiding me to Toby! She has helped me find my way out of my prison of grief and guilt.

I was thinking back on leaving Steve when we went on vacation the June before he died and feeling bad about it, even though when I told him I decided to stay home, he insisted we all go as planned. The whole time we were gone I imagined how much better he would be by the time we returned. None of us had any understanding of how little time we had left together.

But if we hadn’t gone Amy wouldn’t have had the opportunity to help him as she did. She came over every day to help him with his daily needs, and in the evening to help him get ready for bed and get him into bed. They spent time together, they talked, and she cared for him. She also took him to several doctors’ and physical therapy appointments gaining a greater understanding of what he was going through.

Though I do have misgivings about not having that time with him I am happy that Amy was able to bank even more memories of her brother, and that Steve had that special time with Amy.

And I know that we’ll be together later.