Setting my Soul on Fire!

So in the past 3 1/2 years I have learned a lot about who I am as an individual, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a friend and a widow.  Today as I was scrolling through Instagram, like I do far more often than I'd like to admit, I stumbled across a quote.  No idea who said it, but it was on one of the widow pages I follow.  The quote read, "Be fearless in the pursuit of what sets your soul on fire."  Wow.  Did that not make a light bulb go off in my brain or what?!

When Dustin first died, I thought it was my job to continue to do the things he loved and was so passionate about.  I thought if I didn't I wouldn't be able to keep his legacy going.  So I did my best to do that.  Take the kids fishing, camping, quad riding, ingrain in their brains that we are Broncos fans and going on adventures where ever our gas tank could take us.  I quickly realized how incredibly painful that was.  Dustin was a VERY passionate person.  Like, almost obsessively passionate.  So to do these things without him was really hard for me.  Not only did I have so many small kids in tow, but he wasn't there to show how important this was to him, why he loved it so much and to teach the kids about it all.  That role now landed on me.  Now, don't get me wrong, I love to do all of those same things.  But I had other passions than he did and so I wasn't as knowledgeable as he was and didn't share the same exact love he did for them.  It also just flat out hurt me deep inside knowing he was never going to be able to do this with them, ever.  So I battled back and forth with this for a long time.  Should I just suck it up and suffer inside for the kids?  Or should I do similar things that I am more passionate about and really enjoy the time with the kids?

That question continued in my head for what seemed like forever.  So for a while, I just didn't do anything.  It was too hard with everything going on with the kids and having so many that still needed my help for 95% of their day.  But a few months ago I had a thought cross my mind.  That thought was, Brianna, go back to your roots.  Go back to what you love to do, Dustin loves you and wants you to enjoy this life.  So go back to what you knew before he came into your life.  Go back to your roots.  I sat there after hearing that thought and went, how?  How can I do that?  So I did what I know best and I prayed.  I prayed to Heavenly Father to help me find a way to make that happen, to find a way to remember what my roots are and to start to pursue them again.  As time passed and I continued to pray and try to work something out to get back to my roots, a perfect plan fell into place.  And I honestly couldn't have asked for a better plan to fall into place!

While my life is still incredibly hard day in and day out, I'm finally seeing glimpses of happiness come back.  I'm finally starting to feel whole again!  And the best part is, I feel comfort knowing that even though I might not be carrying his legacy on in those specific ways, I am able to carry it on in the best way for me and my kids.  Which is by setting my soul on fire to show them how life really can be lived to the fullest, just like their dad did every day.

M.I.A.

It's been a while since I've written.  A LLLOOOOOOOONNGGGGG while to be exact.  I guess it could be longer, but here I am, feeling the need to finally write again.  The start of year three was, as every start to a new year is, scary and new.  I knew my grief had changed.  I knew my kids' grief had changed.  What I didn't know was the challenges it would bring.

For the first time in my entire life, I can honestly say that I've actually, really struggled with getting out of bed every morning.  They say that in the first stages of grief that is completely normal.  Well, I must have missed that part of that stage, because it was easy for me to keep going then.  Now?  It's a completely different story.  But life has also drastically changed since then.  I look back on that time and honestly wish I could go back, compared to what I am dealing with now.  

Every morning, around 5a, I hear the stomps of little feet and loud screams and yells of children who are up and ready to start their day.  But, because of their change in grief, if I don't meet them out by a certain time, they start to panic that I have died or that I have disappeared.  So if I try to catch a few more zzz's or I pray a little longer so that I can try to have more patience, I am quickly bombarded with terrified children who have now started their day in complete panic mode.  What a way to start the day, huh?!  Once a day is started in panic mode, its hard to shift out of it.  So I am then dealing with multiple children who have panic attacks several times throughout the day and into the night.  On days we don't start in panic, we start in sensory overload.  Which also involves a lot of screaming and crying.  Almost identical to panic attacks, but worse because it deals with the sensory systems and there are certain things you can't control with that.  All of these things happen before 8a, or earlier.  

Now, while these panic attacks and sensory meltdowns are happening, those who are not directly affected by them are getting into trouble.  And I'm not talking easy mess to clean up.  I'm talking those crazy messes that you see on social media that the parents have recorded and gone viral for.  Only difference for me is that I usually don't have the time to record what has been done.  So I go from helping kids with panic attacks and sensory meltdowns (which is a CRAZY emotional roller coaster as a parent) to finding a HUGE mess(es) that I'm not even sure how to clean up!  All of which is usually happening before 10a-11a.  

I then have to figure out how to feed four of the PICKIEST eaters I've ever known, lunch.  How in the world do you do that after the type of morning I've just had?!  Extreme picky eaters are no joke and will literally starve before they will eat what you fixed.  And what you fixed could be what they asked for, but its too brown, or too cold, or too hot, or was cooked differently, etc.  So now you are stuck with kids who refuse to eat and are whining and complaining that they are starving and are then blaming you for making them starve.  SO SUPER FUN, RIGHT?!?!?!

By noon everyday, I've reached my patience limit.  But, there are still S E V E N hours until bed time.  We try to have quiet time, which is successful most of the time.  Unless Speedy Gonzales finishes all of their books to read, puzzles to do, pattern play to work on and coloring pages to color.  Then I have the million questions of what can I do now?  Can I . . . Over and over again until the youngest wakes up from her nap, crankier than before, because she didn't get to nap as long as she needed.  By then its only 1:30p-2p.  Now there are four hours to fill and zero patience to fill them with.  Somehow, and with the help of my grandma, brother and his girlfriend and my mom, I can make it through dinner time and make sure everyone is fed.  Dealing with the same extreme picky eating challenges I face at lunch.

Then it is finally bath and bed time.  Oh what a glorious time of day!!  Well, it should be right?  Not for me.  Bath time brings more sensory challenges with different kids than from the morning routine.  I usually end up soaked with soap everywhere and so does the bathroom.  As well as any animal that decided to join in on the "bathroom fun."  We then come to bed time and I am faced with kids who either can't fall asleep because they are terrified I am going to leave them or if I step foot outside that I will die, or who can fall asleep fast but not stay asleep because of night terrors.

We also have days filled with appointments.  These appointments aren't just any regular old appointment either.  They are specialist appointments because we aren't the "healthiest" family on the block.  So we spend a majority of our time in the car.  Going here there and everywhere.  Let's just say that you know you have a lot of appointments because when school's in, the registrar at your kids' school knows you on a first name/personal basis, knows your kids in the same way as well as what teacher they have, what room number they're in and knows if they are absent/tardy to just mark them as excused without having to call and clarify because you always come with Dr.'s notes.

Within these crazy, busy, highly emotionally, challenging days there still needs to be time carved out for light, I'm talking seriously light, housework.  Scratch that, I'm talking the necessities to keep our house and clothes clean!!  Let alone saving time for my brain to slow down long enough to actually sleep and let my mind and body recover from everything that happened that day!!

So this is why I have been M.I.A.  for the past 4 months.  And I don't write all of this for sympathy, I write all of this so if I have ignored you, haven't been super talkative, have had R.B.F. (in full force) or have hid away in my house, you understand why.  It's not easy being a truly single mother.  Let alone all of the medical issues and conditions we do have with their new grief mixed into that.  Just know that I am M.I.A. for good reasons . . . I am helping my kids navigate their new challenges that come from deep within themselves.  Some of which we are learning to control and some of which we just flat out can't control and are learning to cope with.  

   

My New Season of Grief

So I am now a month in to year three of loosing Dustin.  YEAR THREE!!  How has it been three years already?!  It feels like an eternity to me, but it also feels like it was yesterday.  I guess that's grief's way of putting it into perspective for me.  I've noticed something about my grief though and I don't think a lot of people know or understand where grief has taken me.

Year one was rough. 

      So many firsts.

      So much to wrap my brain around.

      So much to figure out.

      So much self-induced pressure to make life as perfect as it can be.

Year two was even harder!

     So much feeling and emotions surfaced.

     So many second firsts that actually could be remembered and felt.

     So much guilt for trying to hold on to a life that wasn't living anymore.

     So many unfamiliar situations that I had to face "alone."

But where has all of this, and much more, brought me?  It has brought me to where I am today.  It has made me who I am today because I didn't let any of it stop me.  

After my first year of being a widow, I went to a Widow's Conference.  In that conference I learned a very important lesson.  I was taught that it is OK to be sad, mad, frustrated and discouraged, but its not OK to stay there.  It is OK to give myself time limits to feel those negative emotions, but its not OK to unpack and stay in those emotions all the time.

Starting year three, I realized that a lot of people thought I would still be so incredibly sad that Dustin died.  But I am here to tell you that I am not nearly as sad as I used to be.  And it is because of what I learned at that Widow's Conference.  Life doesn't just stop when you loose your spouse.  So you are forced to make a choice.  To unpack and live in that horrible pity party, or to let yourself feel your emotions, work through them and let them go.  

My new season of grief involves random grief triggers that you didn't know existed.  It involves explaining again to my kids what happened to their dad, why it happened, when they will see him again and it not affecting me so badly that I'm paralyzed for the rest of the day.  It involves figuring out how to keep him alive in the appropriate way for my kids.  It involves figuring out how to be a single parent in the best way I can be, doing the best I can with what I have and being OK with that.  It involves being the only voice for myself and my kids.  It involves so much more than what meets the eye because its just become a part of who I am.  

I am grief.  

Grief is me.  

But it doesn't stop me like it used to.  It doesn't paralyze me like it used to.  It doesn't fog my brain as badly as it used to.  It is my new season of grief and I am excited to see what I can do with it!!     

My Intricately Calloused Heart

As I sit here on the eve of what should be my 8th wedding anniversary, I can't help but notice everything I'm not feeling anymore.  There has been so much to feel in the past 2 years and 10 months that I've lost all of the feeling in my heart. 

Several years ago, Dustin and I always made this night a special night.  It was our thing.  Our tradition to start celebrating our anniversary.  We didn't have hardly any money so we wanted to make sure we made our anniversary as special as possible and let it last as long as possible.  We'd reminisce through our wedding pictures, joke about the things that went wrong, bask in our love for each other and eventually fall asleep next to each other.  It was a special night for us and we looked forward to it every year.  

The January before Dustin left for Korea, we FINALLY got to celebrate our anniversary by actually going out.  My amazing sister gave us a paid in full, including the babysitter, date night for our Christmas present.  We immediately knew we wanted to save it for celebrating our 5th anniversary.  Perfect one to finally be able to celebrate!!  5 years!!  We had made it to 5 years of marriage, had 3 healthy kids with a fourth on the way, several moves and apartments, a base house, several cars and too many animals to count.  But we had survived it all!  The good, the bad and the ugly.  That night is one I will never forget!  It was the most perfect night we could've ever asked for.  Little did I know that would be the very last anniversary I'd be celebrating with him alive, though.

After I lost Dustin, I didn't know how to celebrate our anniversary anymore.  How do you celebrate something so meaningful when the person you want to celebrate with is no longer alive?!  I decided I'd keep up our traditions that first anniversary and just write it in my journal.  I quickly realized that was too painful.  The next year I decided to celebrate it with our kids.  Good idea in theory, right?  They could care less right now because of their ages.  Which I get.  But now that brings me to tonight. 

Numb.

Emotionless.

Detached.

How?  How did I end up here?  Let me tell you.  In grief there is so much physical pain that you start to not feel anymore.  Things just seem to not even register on the rector scale of pain because you've gone so long feeling deep, immense pain in every second of every day.  You know the ones you see in the hospitals where they have the faces and ask you to rate your pain on a scale of 1-10?  Yeah, this pain is so deep, no number could equate to it.  So, you start to form this big, rough callous over your heart to try and help save it from breaking into more pieces than it already has.  

Now this pain sits there, getting deeper and deeper as the days pass without your person.  It is a pain that is nonstop.  It racks your spirit, mind and body.  All day, everyday.  And as you experience more life, this callous you've formed on your heart gets rougher in different spots because it has to.  If it doesn't, you're afraid that you'll feel too much and then your mind will take you back to that day, those weeks and months right after they died.  And then you have this wave of emotions come over you that you can't control.  You don't know how long they will remain either, so out of fear, you work so hard to build that callous bigger and in a new spot.  One you honestly didn't think would matter, but it does.  It matters so much you'd rather be numb to it than feel any of it at all.  Which is why I am numb, emotionless and detached tonight.  I have had almost 3 years now of many life events I didn't think would matter.  But they did and I needed to make my intricate callous.    

Will this ever go away?  Maybe one day.  When I'm so old that I've experienced all that life has to offer me.  But for now, this is how I live my life.  One intricately placed callous at a time.  And I still have a lot of life to live, so I suspect my callous to be the most beautifully intricate calloused heart you ever did see.