Fall and Love

Fall is in the air and we are inhaling it deeply in big, monstrous breaths.  This is my time of year.  I finally stop sweating, the bugs have begun to retreat, and everything begins to take on this gorgeous orange-yellow-red hue.  It’s perfect.  Though life has not slowed down one iota for us over here, we made sure to cram in a good ole’fashioned picking weekend filled to the brim with all that is fall.

 

I’m not a full-blown “PSL” nut but I’m damn close and I flew that flag high last weekend.  We certainly had a fall hangover; complete with cider donut sugar covered fingers and I may still be feeling the effects.   It was a day full of family and fun, and full bellies and all the things that make me yearn for this time of year for the other 276 days of the calendar.

This past week had us planning for Jack’s Herd’s Random Acts of Kindness day, which took place on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day on October 15^th.  We made and printed cards and brainstormed different ways to spread some kindness through this world in memory of Jack and all of the other angel babies this earth has lost.  So when Saturday rolled around, me and so many of the people I am lucky to call mine, set out to send some good juju out there.  It was amazing in so many ways.  It was like I took a heaping dose of healing love because I felt good and, truth be told, I needed it to prepare me for the weekend I was heading into. 

I had made plans to make our annual trip to Boston to visit our friends, Jen and Andrew, and their new addition, baby Oliver.  As with everything these busy days, I didn’t think to check the calendar and Sean was double-booked so he was out and it became a Mommy and Kennedy visit. I was nervous.  We made plans to stay in their new apartment they recently moved into and I suddenly was terrified I wouldn't be able to handle staying there with a brand new baby overnight and without Sean to top it off.  As we drove, Kennedy excitedly talked about holding the baby and we covered the rules: quiet voices, clean hands, and no wild stuff.  She assured me, clearly annoyed that I had implied anything else would happen, that I didn’t have to tell her that.

The moment we stepped foot into their gorgeous new life, my loving friends that looked like naturals welcoming us with open arms, my nervousness dissolved and it was my bold little lady that clamed-up.  She got incredibly quiet and hid behind my legs, unsure of what to make of a situation that was so foreign to anything she could remember.  She has been around new babies but not in the last year and half where she would have any clear memories.  So while we settled in, washed hands and prepared to meet little Oliver formally, she kept whispering, “Mama, you have to help me.”

 The second she held him though, the big sister buried within her heart showed through with a light that I would only be able to describe as magnificent.  She kissed his amazingly chubby cheeks, patted his bum, and even sang the song, word for word, that I sing her at bed every night.  I’d be lying if I said that this didn’t tear the precariously placed stitches of my broken heart but I held myself together.  That is, until I was in the bathroom and I could hear Kennedy, in her little pixie voice, tell Jen, “We don’t have a baby anymore, he died, but I’m still a big sister,” and my beautiful friend, whose presence soothes me immeasurably, responded, “Yes I know we are all still so sad and yes, you are such a wonderful big sister.”  With that the tears, which I knew would come, flowed freely; I got myself together quickly and from then on it was genuine smiles and happiness and all the love a one-month-old evokes.

We took walks, enjoyed a final meal at a favorite restaurant that would close its door that night for the last night, and passed the little bundle of love around, taking turns with the shushing, bouncing, parent walk that was like riding a bike.  As I rocked this gorgeous little boy to sleep last night, my heart couldn't help but remind me of what could have been.  My empty arms felt as full as my heart and, though there was a definite sadness within me, I mostly felt grateful; grateful to my friends for sharing their baby boy with my little girl and me for a few days.

Sean and our parents sent a lantern up to our boy at the Ohana Foundation’s 2^nd Annual Wave of Light.  I was sad to miss it but my heart knew where it needed to be this weekend and so in my absence this amazing man showed me, yet again, what a wonderful daddy he is.

It is weekends like these past two that show me that even though grief is still very much woven into the fabric that is my life, there is still so much good that shines through. 

Off to eat a slice of Pumpkin Spice Swirl bread…

Happily Exhausted

To say that this has been a long three weeks would be an extraordinary understatement.  It has been packed to the brim with some, wonderful moments and also some doozies.  So far this fall has been full of family, back to school routines, and the beginning of extracurricular activities.  It brought me to some old friends that made my heart feel full and me feel old.  There has been equal parts snuggles and battles between the little lady and me.  We have been busy to the point of pure exhaustion- I can feel it in my bones- but taking a look back at it, it's all been worth it.

Getting Kennedy back to school has had its challenges.  She loves school, adores her teacher and the routines they have, and can’t wait to see her friends each day she goes.  We are up to three days a week this year, which is great but this mama has always struggled with morning-time-management.  It doesn’t matter how much I get prepped the night before, come morning I am always running around, losing my patience and swearing, mostly in my head but I’m admittedly imperfect and so there is an occasional “$h*t” thrown out here and there.  The complicating factor this year is getting Kennedy ready as I simultaneously stumble through my own routine.  More than that: The kid is insistent on choosing her clothes.  Which is fine, since she picks out everything she owns in the stores for the most part, except that after we choose her outfit the night before, come morning it’s never right.  She doesn’t like the color, the fit, the pattern, you name it.  There are usually tears from one of us while the other one is trying to stand their ground.  I’ll be honest-she usually wins and I threaten things, emptily, like giving away the things she wants to wear over and over, like her Princess Elena tee-shirt.  I'm sure the clothes thing will get easier as she gets older, right?

We’ve started dance too.  So, now we have a dancing hockey player.  We are working on being well rounded.  Kennedy doesn't seem to see much of a difference in the two; she transitions from one to the other seamlessly.  She loves them both and so when I’m exhausted from being out all day by the time hockey practice ends and I’d rather be sleeping in on Saturday morning than watching dance class- it's all beyond worth it when she smiles as she twirls or sticks the landing as she jumps over her hockey stick.

We made a trip down to Long Island for my mother’s best friend’s son, my childhood buddy’s wedding reception.  Time and distance has kept us from seeing each other for years but when he gave me a big’ole bear hug the second I saw him, it was like no time had passed.  Spending time with him, my parents, a few of my siblings, and some family and friends did me good.

 Photo credit: Brianne Wakefield 

Photo credit: Brianne Wakefield 

The following weekend was a working one for me and so even though it was cut a little short, Sunday was a day filled with fun and family time.  We went antiquing, where it made me laugh to see my little lady tickled by all of the “old stuff,” as she kept shouting out.  After a few good finds we met my sister and her boys at a local Fall park-type-place with all kids of fun!  It was a day filled with fun and laughing, fighting and tears, but as is always the way in my family, we make it work.  Love can be a sticky thing but it's what holds us all together.

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis 

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis 

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis

Monday, September 26th, Sean and I brought over the first donation to the Labor and Delivery Unit’s Bereavement committee at Albany Medical Center on behalf of Jack’s Herd.  The amount of love and outpouring of support has been nothing short of amazing.  To supply the materials to give grieving mommies and daddies the same kinds of things Sean and I cherish so much, all we have of our sweet baby Jack, moved me in a way I can’t put into words.  Part of me sobbed when it was done because in order for it to be used someone else’s life has to come apart, and yet the other part of me felt an overwhelming joy that my baby boy is still able to carve out a place in this world.   You are all helping us do this for him and I love you for it.

The end of one month and the beginning of a new one brought us back down to the Island for another wedding.  It was for my best friend from high school’s little sister.  These are two girls that are in most of the best memories I have from my teenaged years.  My fondest memories are of sitting around their big wooden farm table with them and their mom talking and laughing into the early hours of the morning.  I hadn’t seen any of them since Jack had died and my heart has ached for them all of these months.  There isn’t a good reason for letting so much time go by but I can only explain it as the girl they had known all of these years has just been buried so deep by heartache and life that I didn't know if I fit with them anymore.  Going to the wedding and seeing the beautiful little girl that I loved like my little sister as a gorgeous bride and my best friend standing with her, so proud of her too and their mama calling out my name like I was sixteen back in her kitchen proved my doubts wrong.  If anything, seeing them, hugging them, and more than anything laughing with them showed me that that girl is still in here, and every once in a while, more often than I’ve been, I need to dust her off and let her out for a visit.

So now I sit, snuggled in my bed on a chilly fall afternoon, still slightly hung-over and reminded that I'm not nearly as young as I used to be, I am tired.  But, and this is where it all counts, I am happy.  I haven't felt genuinely happy in a while.  So if it takes a bit of exhaustion to be happy every so often, I’ll pay that price.

 I may just have to throw a three-hour nap in here or there along the way.