God only asked Noah for 40 days and 40 nights

Today is day 34 in the hospital. I am exhausted. I just wrapped Harlen's PICC line so he could shower. I am not a nurse. I have never wanted to be a nurse. I never cared to know what a PICC line is or what it does. He has a port too. It's in the right side of his chest. It is for blood or platelets or poison or whatever the hell they want to put in him. We were so excited for a clean bone marrow biopsy, but now his numbers won't come up and the Dr. today gave us little hope on what they could do next. Did I mention I am tired?

On top of it all we are trying from 70 miles away to compose the bull sale catalog. It is virtually impossible. My mind is so cloudy from stress and anxiety that I am having a hard time remembering numbers from one source to get to the other source. It is a long process on a normal year and takes most of my energy. I am sucking at it.

Harlen is down. He is talking like he is planning for an end result that I cannot put my head around. I can't think through this. I can't imagine a life without him in it, but if his numbers don't come up there isn't much more they can do for him. UGH The words came out of my mouth. My God it is your turn to step in. I know you aren't accustom to being told what to do, but I am tired of asking. I am tired of pleading. I need the father of my children in my life, in their life. I need a happy ending. I need what is left in my family to stay in this family.Was cancer your idea? Because I have to tell you if it was it blows.

There is hope and then it is crushed, then there is hope, but it is squashed, then there is real hope, but it was just pretend, then there really is hope, but it never was hope. It was just words, and words are empty and hollow and ugly.

I still have hope the Dr.'s are wrong because seriously when have they been right?

I believe I would rather have 2 of every species living amongst me.

28th Anniversary

Tonight I am tired and sad. The end

That's not me anymore

That’s not me anymore

I used to wake each day looking forward to a new endeavor.

I used to crack a joke. I was quick. I was clever.

That’s not me anymore.

I used to enjoy a huge crowd, eyes on me as I took the stage.

I read every book I could find and hung on every page.

That’s not me anymore.

I loved to cook all kinds of cuisine.

My house was never perfect, but it was clean.

But that’s not me anymore.

I loved the farm, the bulls, the cows and the lil calves.

Always content, never worried about the didn’t haves.

I’ll never be like that anymore.

I loved to watch my kids in everything they did.

Every song, every hit, every set, even when they slid.

It’s just not me anymore.

I loved my husband with every ounce of my soul.

We went everywhere together. Eternity was my goal.

That’s just not me anymore.

I can’t say I was always smiling, but the joy shined through.

Days I was down there was only just a few.

But I’m not like that anymore.

Back then I believed there was a God that cared about my life.

I believed in forever families and wanted to be a forever wife.

But I don’t believe like that anymore.

I spend days now wondering why I am even here.

All my mistakes and flaws are showing crystal clear.

Cuz that’s not my life anymore.

Getting out of bed each day shouldn’t be a struggle.

And at night I want to be alone. Never want to cuddle.

Happiness eludes me. I don’t feel it anymore.

I worry every moment, every day, every minute.

If this is it. I quit. I don’t want to be in it.

I don’t want to live anymore.

Optimistic Labels

I hate words like CPR Cardiopulminary Resuscitation. It doesn't resuscitate. The JAWS OF LIFE doesn't actually bring someone to life.

I am depressed. I can't get off my ass. I can't clean. I really don't family around. I don't want anyone around.

I will always be your mom........

I know you are no longer here.
I know I will never see you in this life again.
I know that my last memories of you were horrendous.
I know that no one understands the pain.
I know that no one understands the guilt.
It was me that saw you last.
It was me that spoke to you last.
It was me who was responsible for your well-being.
It was me who failed miserably.
It was me that changed your diapers, fed and clothed you.
It was me that showed you love everyday.
I will always be your mom.
But I will never get to hold you or kiss you.
I will never get to see your smiling face.
I will never see you graduate or get married or have kids.

I will never grow old reaping your blessings.

God everyday I wake up pleading for you to be home.
There are not miracles, nor God, nor Oden, nor Christ.
There is no heaven.
There is not even relief for the nightmare that is my life.
I am running hard but the reaper will not let go of my jacket.
He is laughing and I am panicked, popping the Valium to just be able to breathe.
Some days I go backwards, but I am on the uphill climb.

You can choose to be happy

As you know reading this blog I have chose not to have religion or god in my life. The pain and guilt attached to the two is more that I can handle. I choose not to believe in a God that closes his eyes and ignores the suffering of his creations on Earth. I am constantly looking for something that will ease this pain and longing of losing two children.

Today is the day Rhiannon died. 29 years ago she left me. She was laying next to me in bed. I woke up to find her cold and blue with blood coming from her nose. The images never leave my mind. So the day after Memorial day I am grieving like it was yesterday, but I have been grieving for what seems an eternity. One of Maya's friends is pregnant. She brings back so many memories for me. She sang in her last choir concert. She graduated. She stands proud. I want to put my arms around her and tell her to take everyday as a gift, to love that little girl, to take picture after picture. Not to be like me and take life for granted, to not take pictures, and to hold her every minute of every day.

The person who should be my biggest supporter has grown tired of my sadness and depression. He yelled at me and told me it has been long enough. He said 9 years is time enough to get over the death of my son. I said that I still haven't done it in 29 years. I cannot choose to be happy. There are days I am happy. I am coaching Lea's softball team again this year. I love it. I am happy some of the time, but some times I am paralyzed with the panic, anxiety and sadness. Some days I have a hard time getting out of bed. It makes me feel worthless. It makes me feel like I will never be normal again. Do you think I choose to be debilitated? He has diabetes. I told him he should choose not to have diabetes. I don't see a difference. I do not choose to have PTSD. I do not choose to be paralyzed when sirens go off. I do not choose to have uncontrolled shaking when a cop is behind me. I do not choose to have tremors so bad I can't write the roster for my softball team. I do not choose any of them. I do not chose to be miserable, but some days I am.

I did not choose to be sexually abused.

 I did not choose to lose my virginity to a 30 year old man who raped me when I was passed out drunk at 16.

 I did not choose to lose my baby girl when I was alone at the age of 18 and I did not choose to drive into a parked farm truck killing my handsome son, injuring 3 of my other children. I did not choose it. I am doing the best I can. 

Please don't place more guilt on me. Please don't knock me down further. Don't hold my head deeper under the water. I am losing consciousness. I am drowning. It doesn't matter the amount of time that passes, 9 years, 29 years, 31 years, or 38 years. I am doing the best I can. It may not be what you think is the best I can, but I am trying everyday I get out of bed. Everyday I love my babies. Everyday I do what I can to help them in their lives. If they call I am there for them. I am happy for Cyrus and his upcoming nuptials. I have the invitations done.

So there it is. Whatever you hear in church or on your radio Christian shows it is not true. I am not able to CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY.  These people , these church leaders and speakers think they know. I hope one day that diseases of the mind will be treated with the same attitude as diseases of the any other part of the body. PTSD cannot be prayed away. It cannot be wished away. There is no magic  cure, no blessing that will miraculously fix it. It is a difficult and excruciating process to be able to function in this world. I take my medicine. I see my counselor. I am trying.

I just wish the world could understand. I wish my loved ones could too. But just like CHOOSING to be happy it isn't that easy. If only I could choose I would.

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Skip ahead to Landslide on the Playlist at the top of the page.

"I took my love, I took it down

Climbed a mountain and I turned around
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
'Til the landslide brought it down
Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm getting older, too"

Fleetwood Mac Landslide

I was walking in a retail store yesterday looking for a black dress for Lea and Maya for an upcoming occasion. When I passed the children section I became dark. At first I thought I am so glad that I am passed this time in my life, but then I got a bit uglier. I don't even want grandkids. I don't want to worry anymore. I don't want the chance of a loss again. It is better not to ever love than to love and lost. 

I am not handling the seasons of my life. I think I have reverted to the anger stage once again in this ongoing grief. Cyrus is getting married in 90 days. WOW! Maybe this "changin' ocean tide" is taking me under. Not that I am not ecstatic for him, I am. I am happy for him. He is happier than I have seen him in 9 years. She does that for him. 

It just sucks Loughlin won't be here to watch his lil brother tie the knot, or better yet tie the knot himself.

Are you sitting on Loughlin's grave?

We finally buried Harlen's mom yesterday. The weather did not permit for the burial earlier. When we arrived at the cemetery I walked towards the grave which was one over from Loughlin's. Harlen's dad was in between. I looked at Loughlin's headstone and the metal pheasant that sat on the edge was on the ground, the tail feathers broke off. I picked it up and fixed it, put it back where it belongs. The chairs were almost touching the headstone. It made me sick. Harlen's siblings went over and sat in the chairs, more sick. Harlen dedicated the grave, even more sick. All I can think is get off my son. Why would they think this is ok?  It isn't . I am angry about it. Get off my son. Even today I am still angry.

I am sure there is so much more to my anger, than the chairs and the broken pheasant. I feel like I have for 25 years, not the most important women in my husbands life. His mom never liked me. She never thought I was good enough for her son, and now as we bury her everyone tramples my son. I hope I am never like her. I hope that I can always remember that my children's happiness is more important than my petty judgement. The anger isn't going away anytime soon.

"Life is a Struggle"

Death is so hard

Harlen's mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer on January 21st, 2017. They gave her 3 months to live. She flew home to Boise from Arizona (snowbirds) . She was weak but she could walk to the pick-up and then walk into the house when we got her and Fred home. 2 days later she couldn't walk to the bathroom. Her dementia and sundowners was getting a lot worse. It was hard to watch a women with so much life fail so quickly. She took such great care of herself. She always ate right and exercised daily. I thought she would live to be a hundred. She is going to be missed so much.

My mother was my stone.

One of the few I called my own.

She was understanding and kind.

Loved me heart, soul and mind.

She never left me yearning.

Every moment I was learning,

How to live my life with bliss,

Never ever wanting to miss,

A single moment with the ones I love.

Still sending blessings from above.

She will be forever in my heart,

Closer and yet now apart.

I love you Mom.

My parents are getting old. I am not ready for life without them. :(

This week has been so stressful. Our insurance cancelled us again because they said our payment was 4 days late. so much confusion this year with this company. Nightmare is generous. They sent us a refund because we paid too much then cancelled for non-payment. My surgery was in 10 days. Stress.

Friday my mom was admitted to the hospital with a BP of 60/52, pneumonia and strep. She was on her death bed. They said if she wouldn't have come in she would have died in her sleep. They gave her fluids, antibiotics through the IV. Sunday night she was doing better. They let her go home Monday.

This morning my dad couldn't get up. My brother couldn't help him up. The ambulance came and took him to the hospital. He has a blood infection, a blood clot from his groin to his knee. His Blood Pressure fell so much that they had to put adrenaline in his heart. He is in the ICU today.

My mom is important in my life. My dad talks to me every morning before Rush starts. I call at 9:45 and we talk until the radio program starts. He is my lifeline sometimes, a lot of times. My mom has been sick a lot this year.  It's hard to see them get old, struggle. My dad was the strongest man I knew. Is he still?

The insurance re-instated us this morning. My surgery is Thursday at 11:30 am. I will be on liquids for 2 weeks. I will be having Christmas dinner in a blender. How fun and exciting :)

I didn't get my house clean before, the tree is kind of decorated, and the Christmas cards are printed without a poem or without being labeled. It could be interesting.

I need a lot of luck!

"If you have done it unto the least of these my brethren, you have done it unto me."

Matthew 25:40 is on Loughlin's headstone...........

I know I am not religious, but I do try to find influence to better my life. I feel the need to help the most downtrodden. Everyone calls me crazy. My son's friend is homeless and in trouble. He needs help. Who am I not to offer my home, my family, my food, my love? I am just a peasant, whom without the help of others would have perished long ago. I have a loving family. I had a grandma who took me in when I was lost, never to be found. She loved me and taught me that there should be no judgement, only love. 

I am not in a great place right now myself, but lending a hand to someone else makes me feel good, makes me realize that there is pain all around us. It makes me understand that all we have to do is open our eyes a little bit and the opportunities to help, save, love is everywhere. 

I go in for LAPAROSCOPIC NISSEN FUNDOPLICATION on December 15th. I will be sore for sometime. I will be on a liquid diet for 2 weeks. It will be a miserable Christmas for me. I am trying to get on top of things before that time. I usually start Christmas cards, shopping, decorating at about the 15th so I am struggling. I am so far behind that I have not done True's thank you cards from graduation, or the kids' steer thank you cards from September. So I am working on all three at the same time. The shopping will be done online. The presents will be wrapped by my beautiful daughters. I hope to have the Christmas tree up on Sunday. 

Thanksgiving and things I am thankful for......

We went to the Oregon Coast for our Thanksgiving this year. There are so many memories I love from the coast when our family was almost whole. We love it there.

The ocean is hypnotic.













The waves in the winter are so incredible, so beautiful, so mesmerizing. It really is my favorite place on Earth. I feel so close to Loughlin there.




We had a few extras, True's friend, Kevin, Cyrus' girlfriend McKayla and Cyrus' friend Nate. It was so much fun.

The sound of the waves crashing on the shore is so relaxing for me.

The new rental house is fun and we even had friends of Harlen and I show up for dinner Friday night where I cooked my famous clam chowder and tried my first Ciopinno. We played board games and belly laughed for hours.





It was a great weekend, but of course the emptiness returns. I miss my son so much. Coming home is just a huge reminder of how it should be, how it could be if I would have just seen that truck.

So my Thanksgiving doesn't last long because the blues and the sadness always seem to creep in and ruin all of the fun.

I miss you Loughlin, You loved the ocean and fishing and kite flying and the fun houses and the Oregon Aquarium and pretty much everything that has to do with the Coast. I miss you Rhiannon because you never even got the chance to love this place, to share it with us.

8 years , I guess is the amount of time until everyone thinks you should be fine.

October 27th, 2016 was 8 years since Loughlin died. For me, it will always be one of those days, but I guess for the rest of the world he has been put on the back burner. The phone calls were 0. Even Harlen wanted to treat it as just another day in paradise. I tried to remind people with a post on Loughlin's page on Facebook, but it felt shallow and like I was trying too hard.

Did you know me before I lost Loughlin? I am nothing like I was, or maybe I am exactly like I was before. I don't remember what I was like. If I was a better person to some, I was a worse person to others. It is relative.

You might have forgot my son, but I haven't. You see part of my heart will be forever dead, black, empty. My soul is crying out, yet no one is listening. I have sang my song of misery for too long. I have used all of the empathy allowed in this world. I should sink into the darkness of the water where you do not have to acknowledge my pain anymore, but that wouldn't be me. Why do you feel you don't have to be a little uncomfortable around me twice a year when I am in agony every single day? You run. You hide. You ignore, but I am like that smell you can't get out of your freezer. I will always be here to remind you.

Today is Halloween. It used to be our family's favorite. We used to dress up together. It used to be so much fun, but now all I remember is the wreck and being in a hospital and someone taking my kids trick-or-treating for me. WOW 8 years might be enough for everyone else but it isn't even close for me.

My Response is Anger

There was yet another accident in our little neck of the woods last week. 5 kids were in a pick-up truck driving under the influence and it rolled. Some of the kids walked away from the accident and some are hurt. Everyone is asking for prayers for them, others held a vigil for them. Me, I just sat and stewed, finding myself get angrier and angrier. How many years do you think I will be like this, the feeling of being cheated? Loughlin did nothing wrong. He hardly did anything wrong ever. He was such an amazing young men. Am I saying these kids drank, got in their pick-up drove so they deserve it? Hell no, if so there are a million crazy teenagers that deserve to be dead, including me. I am saying, in a just world Loughlin would still be here. He didn't deserve this.

The Cemetery

I really have memory problems, but I can't remember the last time I have been to Loughlin's grave. I used to visit it often. I felt closer to him there. I believe that is because of the quietness that surrounds you there. It is surreal, well until some car or farm truck drives by and ruins the entire moment. They look at you like you are a freak. If you show your emotions, cry the looks make you feel like you are unstable, that you should have been over this. Almost 8 years and you are still crying for a son you killed, yes, yes, yes, I cry almost daily. I cry at my failures. I cry at what my life has become. I look for something to drowned out my agony. Alcohol, drugs, but I have other kids. I have to be strong, so I will just use my prescribed meds to relieve my hurt and anger and frustration at the process. Why the hell do I have do go through this twice?

Are you a mom? Can you feel my pain? Can you feel the loneliness even in a crowded room? Do you feel this anger? Scream with me. Let the world know how fucked up this is.

Loughlin and Rhiannon, I will never look upon your beautiful faces again. I am so tired..........

The Sun in the Eastern Horizon blinds my eyes but not my mind to my failures and inadequacies.

Yesterday as I drove the kids to school, I descended our hill, the blaring ball of fire was so immense that I could not see in front of me again. ( I say again, at least I think again. I don't really remember why I hit that truck.) It's nice to have something other than me to blame. The sun is an inanimate object. I am sure he can take the heat.

The whole accident came back in full force. The what ifs drowned me in my own self despair. How could I let this happen? How is Loughlin dead? Just writing those words socks me in the stomach taking the air out of my lungs. Almost 8 years and I still haven't conquered the "Acceptance" step of grief. The weight is enormous today. Sunday Loughlin would be 23. My God is there so much difference between 15 and 23? So much time has passed but in my mind, which isn't that stable, it was yesterday, and yet how is Giles a Freshman? Is it understandable that Loughlin will be "Forever 15" and yet everyone else is growing older? I am older, so much older. I feel it everyday. I have friends running marathons, I can't run downstairs to get toilet paper. ( I am sure I can find something else that will work.)

I keep a page for Loughlin on Facebook. I feel like people hate when I am down and only want uplifting posts. WTF These are the shoes I was given to walk this long dirt road we call life. I guarantee if you want to try them on you will be as Anastasia in Cinderella. They will look like a comfortable fit until the truth is revealed. They are my shoes and mine alone. I am not happy that 2 of my kids are in the cold ground. I am angry. I am sad. I am hurt. I feel ripped off. You talk of your grand babies and your weddings and my kids are gone. My future is forever degraded. My life forever decayed. I am a realist. I always have been. The smile on my face is real, or if it is absent it is absent for a reason. I will not pretend. My incredible son is dead. How do you smile through that? I am not always a miserable wretch. I love my other kids. I love to watch their accomplishments. I love to hear them sing. I love to even hear them argue. I love all the things I missed with Rhiannon and Loughlin. So quit looking at me with that pity face, like you could handle this so much better.

My Aunt Mary

Last night, after a long hard battle, I lost one of the most important people in my life. She had been fighting congestive heart failure for 20 years. She made it 14 years longer than they gave her, but for me it could never be enough. My Aunt Mary was always there for me. She wasn't afraid to tell me when I was screwing up my life , yet she was always there when it seemed my life was falling apart. She was one of the very few people I got to share Rhiannon with. She babysat for me during my high school graduation, and even though I moved away she never left my side or my heart. I loved her so much, and she always let me know, she loved me. The picture is of her and her 3 incredible sons that always treated her like the star she was. I am gong to miss her more than I could ever explain. On the sweetness scale she scored a high 10. She solved most her problems with kindness and her family never had to wonder if they were loved. Look at her smile and you  will know how she lived her life. The tears won't stop. She said my name as she was passing and I wish I would have been there. 

I will love you forever Mary.

My World

My World

My life is spinning out into space.

I think it shows in the lines on my face.

People are pulling and pushing.

If I fall there’s no cushion

Without the pins in it

No matter if you spin it.

There’s no oxygen in this room.

No place for my potential to bloom.

People are scratching and clawing.

My soul’s guilt it keeps gnawing.

If there’s peace I can’t find it.

My mind you can’t wind it

I want to let go

Where no one will know

Me and my dreams,

Frantic it seems.

I’m sending out my SOS.

How did I get to be such a mess?

I heard God is the answer.

I feel He's a cancer,

That only promises gifts,

If you just stay away from the cliff.

But if he is there he is pushing you closer

He is cheating And using a Dozer.

7 years and 7 favorite things

# 1 Loughlin's very favorite book. Every other one of my children have read it but Lea and I am sure it is just a matter of time until she finds it too.Maya's favorite too. 7 years on the 27th since he has been gone. I thought it would be fun to remember 7
 of his favorite things.

#2 Loughlin's favorite NFL team was the SanDiego Chargers and his favorite player of all time was LaDainian Tomlinson. He wore his jersey all of the time. Days when I miss him most I put it on. I wish I could still smell him but after 7 years it's just memories. ♡

#3 Loughlin had a lot of different favorite foods. He loved Pigs 'n' a blanket for breakfast(Link sausages wrapped in biscuits covered with white sausage gravy). He loved a great Bacon Cheeseburger, but his favorite meal always included Crab & Lobster. He loved to eat at Red Lobster every year for his birthday, and we still try to keep that tradition. When he was baptized they do a spotlight on the kids. He was asked his favorite food....All the other kids said Mac 'n Cheese or PB and J. Loughlin proudly said his was Lobster and Crab. It was pretty funny for an 8 year old who hadn't ate it very often. I miss this smart kid everyday.

#4 Loughlin loved the outdoors. He loved to hunt. The beautiful buck in the picture was his first and only. frown emoticon He loved to pheasant hunt and would even go alone when he couldn't find a partner. He loved to fish. He got that love from his Grandpa and his dad. He didn't only like to catch the fish but he loved to eat them. He would eat a good trout for breakfast when they were camping. True takes after his big brother and his Uncle Stacey. All these men would have had so much fun together. This is one 'favorite' that is so heartbreaking to remember and write about. heart emoticon Loughlin, Grandpa and Stacey are all so missed.

#5 Loughlin loved scouting. He and Cyrus were lucky and got to spend most of their time together because of their ages being so close. This video was of scout camp 2008. They had so much fun there. 

Funny story, one outing the troop went up above Keeney pass for a short hike. They were running back down the mountain and Loughlin gave Cyrus a lil' shove and Cyrus went tumbling. He had cactus quills everywhere. It was all in fun but Lough was scared to come home because he knew how mad I would be that Cyrus got hurt. I was always and overprotective momma bear. I miss you Loughlin and I miss your laugh so much.

#6 Loughlin was an incredible artist. He loved to make anything beautiful. These are 4 pieces we had framed. (The pictures of the art take away from the beauty, they are framed, and hanging down in the boys' room) The first is a Charcoal of an Avalanche. Cyrus loved these pick-ups and Loughlin drew it for him. The other three are scratchboards, T-Rex, Skeleton and the last is a Rino.(my favorite but when we found it it was in bad shape. He was talented in so many ways. My dad was an artist and Loughlin loved the fact that he was like his papa in that aspect.

 

#7 Loughlin loved his family. His two best friends lived right in the same room as him, Cyrus and True. He spent 98% of his time home or on the farm with his family. He was so caring. Even with the little ones he had so much patience. He called Lea his little monkey and she loved to be with him. Loughlin and Cyrus did everything together and True tagged along side. Mayaand Giles were always looking up to their big brother. He was a gentle soul that would have helped anyone in need. Today it has been 7 years since he died. 7 years of missing, 7 years of heartbreak, 7 years of longing., 7 years of remembering, 7 years of tears, 7 years of questions, 7 years of guilt, 7 years of one empty chair at the table, but 7 years of survival.

Maya's last stand

Last week Maya's Neuropsychologist decided because of the chance of Maya furthering her head injury, she could no longer play sports. She had been hit in the head with the ball and experienced dizziness, nausea, headache and blurred vision.

She is half way through her volleyball season and doing so well. She made the JV team as a Sophomore.

















Her serve was unstoppable. So last night she played her last game. After she was crying, the team was crying, I was crying and even Harlen had tears in his eyes. She can still travel with them but how hard?

My heart is aching. For a mom who wants to protect her kids from everything, I sure am doing a completely abhorrent job.