A collection of crazy thoughts...

Things are better. I tell myself that all the time and I don't think I am lying to myself. I smile more - I laugh more - I talk more - I forget more... I have more moments when I feel like my life is the same as it was 6 months ago. But it is not the same - and the little moments of breakdown remind me of that. The moment when I am leaning down in my closet putting up shoes and I start bawling for no reason. The moment when I accidentally reach for the phone and think "I have to call mom and tell her that." The moment when I get off the phone with my mother-in-law and cry because that was the closest mom conversation I have had in a long time... a long time? it has only been 2 months... I don't even know what a long time is yet.

I am used to getting things that I want. I am used to the idea that if I work harder, dig deeper, fight stronger - I will be able to finally achieve what I want. Even not being able to get pregnant - I still have the hope that it just isn't the right time. I can be more patient, pray more, try new things - and eventually God will bless me with my miracle. None of these strategies can be used to see my mom again - to have another conversation with her again. It doesn't matter what I do - what I want - what I need - what I pray for - what I scream for... she is gone and she is not coming back. I can't fix this one. There is no hope here. I hate that feeling.

I have heard people talk about having dreams about deceased family members - even being able to have a "conversation" with them in a dream or vision of sorts. If that stuff really happens, why hasn't she come back to talk to me. I feel angry about it sometimes. It is so stupid - I know - I am angry that I can't have coffee and a conversation with a ghost -- so silly. But if it is so silly, why am I still angry. Why wouldn't she want to come see me one last time? Why wouldn't God give me that one last glimpse of her? one last word? I need that so bad. I can't see her face anymore in my memory... I can't hear her voice. I can't remember her movements... Why did we never videotape? How much more will I forget?

All of this sounds too crazy... I think I will go sleep now with my puppy pillow.

Cinnamon Snot Ball

Today we conducted an experiment - please see report below for details.

Background Information:
Over the past two weeks I have been attempting to create my delicious breakfast coffee in a more "natural" manner...a.k.a. cut out the SUGAR! I remembered one time my mom putting cinnamon in her Starbucks coffee and it made it sweeter than mine. So, I decided cinnamon it is. Everything was going well. Coffee was sweet. I added more cinnamon every day until I started dumping about 2 tablespoons of cinnamon into the bottom of my coffee cup...but I was loving the outcome.

One day I came home from work and went to clean out my coffee cup only to find a GINORMOUS cinnamon snot ball in the bottom of the cup. I'm not joking here people. I am going to detail the scene for you - unscrew the white top of the travel mug; grasp the pink handle and tip it to the side thinking there is nothing in it (why would there be? I had drank all the coffee that morning); one hard shake (it's just my routine); suddenly a dark blob slowly creeps out and drops into the drain; wide eyes, blink multiple times to make sure I'm not seeing things, look between the cup and the sink multiple times, then set the cup down; gingerly pick up the drain stopper by the edge because the thing in the middle is covered by cinnamon slime; THE SLIME BALL DOES NOT SLIDE THROUGH THE DRAIN HOLES!!!; drop the stopper and turn on water...clogged sink from a cinnamon slime ball; dump cinnamon slime ball onto a paper towel and inspect it; throw out cinnamon slime ball.

After immediately deciding to not sweeten with cinnamon until this mystery was solved, sugar made a repeat appearance in my coffee. We (Becky and I) decided to investigate the cinnamon snot ball phenomenon through the scientific process this weekend.

Hypotheses:
Dad's hypothesis: when large amounts of cinnamon are added to any hot drink, a cinnamon snot ball will occur.

John's hypothesis: when large amounts of cinnamon are added to any hot, acidic drink, such as coffee, a cinnamon snot ball will occur.

Other possible variables could be consistent drinking motion, sealed container, presence of milk and amount of cinnamon.

Materials:
Keurig (star performer in this experiment)
2 K-cups
milk
5 mugs
cinnamon
water
cups
ice

Methods:
1 - after 4 mile run prepare 2 pumpkin spice coffees with the Keurig and sprinkle a dash of cinnamon on the top of each
2 - place 2 tablespoons of cinnamon in the bottom of 3 cups
3 - use Keurig and one K-cup to put hot coffee in cup 1; use Keurig and no K-cup to put hot water in cup 2; use microwave to heat milk and add to cup 3

4 - allow all cups sit for a minimum of 2 hours and observe
5 - place 2 tablespoons of cinnamon in the bottom of 2 new cups
6 - use Keurig to make a coffee and cool with ice to match room temperature water
7 - put room temperature coffee in cup 4; put room temperature water in cup 5
8 - allow both cups to sit for a minimum of 2 hours and observe


Results:
Original morning pumpkin spice coffees did not result in a cinnamon snot ball, and thus the variable of amount of cinnamon was kept constant in all further experiments as it was a factor. Sprinkles of cinnamon do not seem to create snot balls.


Cup 1 (hot, coffee) resulted in a HUGE cinnamon snot ball. Cup 2 (hot water) resulted in HUGE cinnamon snot ball. Cup 3 (hot milk) did not result in snot ball. It was still clumped, but powder when broken apart.
Please note the drain clogging ability of the hot water cinnamon snot ball. This was not an action shot - this was being held there for an extended period of time (my cell phone is VERY slow at taking pictures, believe me)

Cup 4 (room temperature coffee) resulted in smaller snot ball. It was not as stretchy or viscous as warmer counterpart. Cup 5 (room temperature water) resulted in smaller snot ball. Same as room temperature coffee. Milk was not tested in the cold temperature experiment as it did not create a snot ball in the previous test.

Discussion:
Neither hypothesis was correct. As it turned out neither the heat, nor the acidity can completely explain the cinnamon snot ball phenomenon. Pure milk did not create a snot ball, indicating the extreme basic nature of milk did not allow it to form. Water, which should be neutral, did. One possible uncontrolled variable is the pH of the water. In the future an experiment should be run using both well and bottled water, preferable testing all water and other liquids with a pH test. Another uncontrolled variable is the actual cinnamon used. It is possible that Aldi's cinnamon needs to returned for it's promised refund. In the future an experiment should be run using different brands of cinnamon.

Throughout the experiment we kept questioning how Starbucks could create a cinnamon dulce latte without a cinnamon snot ball. To finalize our experiment we headed to Starbucks and engaged in a detailed conversation with a brand new employee as to the ingredients in a cinnamon dulce latte. No employee in the store was aware of the cinnamon snot ball phenomenon because Starbucks uses LIQUID cinnamon flavor. However, we believe that if the CEO of Starbucks was aware of this the cinnamon phenomenon the cinnamon shaker would be removed from the counter as a sweetening option. Do you know what's looming at the bottom of your Starbucks cup?

Written by my dad...

My dad sent me his latest writing to post on this page. I truly hope that all of these thoughts, ideas, frustrations, and victories may find their way to the eyes of another who is struggling with loss as well...

I haven’t asked God to show me if Sue is in heaven, I know she is. I haven’t asked God if she is OK, I know she is. I have been struggling with the thought that I need to know if Sue’s life and her death was worth it. Especially the last 8 years starting with her cancer. And mostly the last 6 months since her bone marrow transplant. I had another revelation lying in bed this morning. I can’t say that it is God speaking to me, It just feels like all my knowledge and the things I’ve experienced and things I already know have been focused to one point to answer the question I’ve been waking up with for the last month. Yes! It is worth it. If just one person comes to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ through Sue’s struggles, through my pain, through my children’s suffering, IT IS WORTH IT. God uses our experiences and other people in life to bring us to a place where we will see that Jesus is the only answer to the problems we are having. Before you are saved it’s all about you and what you need to come to that point when you realize that you need God. After you accept Jesus into your heart, you ask him to take control and you give him your life……..YOU GIVE HIM YOUR LIFE. From this point on it’s not about you any more, it’s about GOD. All your struggles, all your talents, all your good days, all your bad days, all your weaknesses, all your strengths, all your sorrow and all your joy will be used for the glory of God. Your life belongs to him and he will use it in the most efficient way to bring more people to that same place that you had to come to, THAT YOU MAY BE SAVED. Count all your life experiences, good or bad, as blessings that will bring other souls into Christ. I still have this mountain to climb. I still have the pain to endure. I still have my fears to conquer, but now I know IT IS WORTH IT.

Slipping away...

Over a month has passed now and I have found that all of the emotions that once swam inside my brain have all stopped... the anger, the pain, the frustration, the confusion have all settled down and ended with just pure sadness and loss. I ache for her to badly - just for one more moment with her. Knowing that after that moment - I would ask for another. This sadness is so deep that I cannot even express it in my own words. Yet - I have found one person that can put my exact thoughts into words... CS Lewis. I have been reading his book A Grief Observed and some of his ramblings are word for word what I would have said - if I only had the words. And so... my post today comes from the words of CS Lewis - but are my thoughts and feelings, and maybe some of your thoughts and feelings too that you have never been able to express.

"I am thinking about her always. Things of the mom facts - real words, looks, laughs, and actions of hers. But it is my own mind that selects and groups them. Already, less than a month after her death, I can feel the slow, insidious beginning of a process that will make the mother I think of into a more and more imaginary woman. Founded on fact, no doubt. I shall put in nothing fictitious (or I hope I shan't). But won't the composition inevitably becomes more and more my own? The reality is no longer there to check me, to pull me up short, as the real mom so often did, so unexpectedly, by being so thoroughly herself and not me.

Today I had to meet a man I haven't seen for ten years. And all that time I had though i was remembering him well - how he looked and spoke and the sort of things he said. The first five minutes of the real man shattered the image completely. Not that he had changed. On the contrary. I kept on thinking, "Yes, of course, of course. I'd forgotten that he thought that - or disliked this, or knew so and so - or jerked his head back that way'. I had known all these things once and I recognized them the moment I met them again. But they had all faded out of my mental picture of him, and when they were all replaced by his actual presence the total effect was quite astonishingly different from the image I had carried about with me for those ten years. How can I hope that this will not happen to my memory of my mother? That it is not happening already? Slowly, quietly, like snow-flakes - like the small flakes that come when it is going to snow all night - little flakes of me, my impressions, my selections, are settling down on the image of her. The real shape will be quite hidden in the end. Ten minutes - ten seconds - of the real mom would correct all this. And yet, even if those ten seconds were allowed me, one second later the little flakes would begin to fall again. The rough, sharp, cleansing tang of her otherness is gone."

to make a difference...

It is always awe inspiring to watch stories about people who make a difference. I see these stories on the tv, hear about them from friends, and occasionally go to an event that is held for that one special person that means so much to many...

Last night, I got to be that special person - and it brought two hours of pure joy to my life. John and I headed out to our Special Olympics soccer practice as normal last night - I was ready to watch him coach his team for an hour and then head to Wendy's for our traditional meal after practice. But when we arrived, the athletes and families were setting up for a picnic dinner!! I was completely confused and kept asking what was going on -- but only got the answer... "It's a surprise."

Pretty soon, we were all seated and one of our athletes, who had just been inducted as a global messenger for Special Olympics, stood up and gave the most wonderful speech! He brought everyone in the place to tears as he recounted the first day I met him at his workplace and asked him to play basketball for Special Olympics... He went on to tell about how this organization has changed his life.

As I sat there, I looked around and saw the Special Olympic athletes that had become a family. One of the athletes said that it kind of feels like a club he gets to go to where everyone is his friend and everyone accepts him. I see the changes these last four years have brought in not only all of the athletes, but also their families who have people to rely on and bond with - who have others who understand their fight as a family with a member who has special needs.

I love them -- I love them all because they have become part of my family too. It is funny that I see it as a place where I am happy and accepted too -- I can just sit and feel that pure innocence and love of everyone that surrounds me when I am with my Special Olympics family.



Through his speech, the athlete told me how much of a difference I have made to Caldwell County and the families involved in Special Olympics. But really -- they have made a difference in me. I will never forget my years in charge of Special Olympics Caldwell County. I will never forget the day I said. "Sure, I will take over as local coordinator." I will never forget how many hours of work and prayer I put into our county to build up the sports. But - more importantly - I will NEVER forget this family.

If you have never been involved in this organization - try it - because it can change your life.

Thank you Caldwell County Special Olympic athletes and families for making all the difference in my life... you are cherished.

Cry for the day

Ever since my mom died, Nikole hasn't been up to going to her usual church hangout on Sunday night and Wednesday nights. I didn't think anything about it because she has been a lot more clingy to family recently, and I completely understand - because I am too. So tonight, I asked her if she was going to church and she emphatically told me..."NO! I'm staying home with dad."

Later this evening, my dad asked her if she wanted to go to church and she replied with the same comment. He told her that it was okay if she wanted to go. Her precious reply was...

"Then you would be home all alone."

Page 72

For those of you who are unaware of the circumstances in my life since my last post, let me just throw this out there... my mom died. She died on August 19th at approximately 8:15... I say "approximately" because I don't really know exactly when her physical body died and her spiritual body headed for heaven. I'm not sure if it when I watched her take her last breath, when I saw her lips begin to whiten, when the heart monitor line actually went straight, or when the doctor looked at all of us, nodded, and quietly mouthed the words "she's gone."

All of this happened so quickly, and yet took so long at the same time. I really don't even feel the need to go into how all of the events transpired that left me sleeping on the hospital floor for 3 days, repeatedly kissing and smelling her loving hand each time I left the room just in case she died while I was gone, and eventually sitting exhausted at her left side as I watched her earthly life fade away. It took only 4 days... 4 days from the Sunday afternoon that the doctor told us there was really nothing more that he could do... 4 days for the anti-rejection medicine that was supposed to save her to kill her... 4 days to say good-bye to a body that I loved so very much, a voice that I heard every day, and eyes that I was drawn to from the day I was born.

And so... this now leaves me, three weeks later, looking through a book titled Good Grief, by Granger E. Westberg. (if you haven't read my sister's blog post - How are you? - now would be a good time to do that) And this book gives real words to the unreal feelings that I have every single day. So, today, I am on page 72...

"When we have something precious taken from us, we inevitably go through a stage when we are very critical of everything and everyone ... We spare no one in our systematic scrutiny of the event, attempting to understand exactly why this thing happened... If we talk to the minister and are encouraged to admit what we really think, one day we may say, 'Why did God do this to me?' or 'How can He be a God of love if He treats people like this?' With Thomas Carlyle we cynically say, 'God sits in His heaven and does nothing.' While we are in this mood, we look at everyone with a jaundiced eye."