Monday, June 4, 2012

Monday Musings and the Little Things

Soooo, it turns out that profound loss does not make a girl so virtuous and otherworldly and oozing with perspective that she never again lets the little things get her down. Despite the fact that I know we should LIVE, LOVE and NEVER GIVE UP, I still get grumpy, irritable and small, allowing petty things to bug me. Like the way Tim chews. The tufts of hair that fly unceasingly off of Shadow right onto the kitchen floor. The relentless chores of grocery shopping and finding something/anything for dinner. Yes, I KNOW that in the long-term not one of these "problems" has lasting significance, yet each still rankles.

I guess I thought you should know that.

It's like those poems about cute sticky-kid fingerprints on the wall and how we should treasure them because one day the kids will be grown and we will miss them. Okay. I get it. If ANYONE gets it, I get it. I mean back in September I was handed a heaping portion of perspective on a plate of steaming crap with a side order of "Are you f'ing KIDDING me?" But still, even with that perspective, I'm a fingerprint wiper, and because of that I don't judge folks who don't get what I've learned in the last 8 months:

Things change in an instant.
We need to focus on what's important.
This world is not our home.

My friend Glennon, right before her blog post "Don't Carpe Diem" went viral in January, was hesitant to post it at all because she thought the funny and irreverent idea of NOT cherishing the moments with our kids might offend me, a mom who would do anything to have just a few of those moments with Jack again. It didn't offend me. Not one bit.

Because as much as I wish I had a room full of loud, 13 year old boys messing up my house today, or at least ONE fast-talking, soft-cheeked boy leaving his socks wherever he pleased, and I do wish that, I recognize how very hard it is to keep our eyes on what's important when we are in the trenches of motherhood, of life. After all, I too get caught up in the daily grind, and I'm the one with the dead son.

I remember quite well what it was like to have a non-napping baby at home and a husband who worked all day in the city and went straight to school every night until 10. Even on Fridays. I remember how distressing the playground politics of preschool seemed. I remember 2 summers ago almost having a mental breakdown trying to decide whether to move my daughter back to private school. I remember.

As a bereaved mom, I do have a new perspective. I will always have one foot in this world, and one foot in the next. But even in this strange state of KNOWING that small things are small, and longing to tell people to cherish what they have, I still get annoyed when Margaret can't find her shin guards every darn week. I still live in fear at the thought of having to manhandle her into getting a throat swab, even though I know something like strep throat isn't even a blip compared to burying one's child. I remember. I forget.

I take comfort knowing that God's own chosen people had perspective yet were forgetful, too. They had been through so very much and were delivered from it. God freed them from slavery in Egypt and had Moses part the Red Sea just for them, but no sooner than they could say, "My feet hurt," or "Manna tastes like tofu," they were grumbling, forgetting their miracles, and melting down gold to see how fast they could make a little something-something for their worshipping pleasure.

So I forgive myself and others when we forget the significance of what we have learned and are learning these days-- when we are tempted to numb ourselves and just focus on the little things (like my frustrating morning, or Tim's chewing!)

And I'm so GRATEFUL to have this blog as a way to record/remember what God is teaching us, what our sweet Jack was/is like, and as a place to share with each other why any of this matters at all. It seems that our grief and our growth have a communal quality about them, because we are in this life together.

Thank YOU for being in this with me, even when it's hard!

97 comments:

Mellow said...

Even when it's the hardest, and then when it gets easier, you will always stay in my prayers. Know you are covered in prayer.

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing.
Crying and smiling!
You are so honest and I love that about you.
xo
Joyce

Nama Halacy's Comfy Cottage said...

You are a true blessing. Amazing.

Deb said...

of course the little things annoy you. perhaps even more than they used to. After all, along with everything else, is it fair that you still have to deal with Tim's chewing! :) But really, i don't think perspective means a person shouldn't get irritated with small stuff anymore, i just think it makes a person less consumed by those annoyances and more able to step back(as you did here) and recognize that there's more to the day than the small stuff that annoyed you. No matter what you've suffered, you are still a human being who has to get through the minutia of each day--good and bad. and it seems to me that you're doing a beautiful job of it.

spedhead said...

You always keep it real Anna. I think it would be very worrisome if life's annoyances were no longer annoying and if you did not sometimes question God's wisdom. Thanks again for sharing the journey and allowing us to grow too. I keep your family in my thoughts daily.

Anonymous said...

What a beautiful post. I love your writing and appreciate your honesty. I pray for you frequently Anna.

Carrie Stuart said...

Anna, another fantastic post. I did wonder about how your perspective would change, even without realizing I was wondering. What you shared here makes so much sense. Thanks for all that you share here with us. I continue to pray for you and your family. *HUGS*

Anonymous said...

And THANK GOD you can focus on the little things, even for a while. Can you imagine if you had to live the rest of your life with the constant weight and reality of the brevity of life in the forefront of your mind, occupying every thought? You wouldn't be able to function. So thank God for the little distractions, even the annoyances. You're a changed person now. But part of the living process is LIVING and everything human that comes along with it. Those might be little graces in this whole process. My nephew has cancer, and we didn't think he would survive this past year. It's amazing to me, how life still moves forward for those who grieve, and for those who live in fear that our loved ones could be taken at any second. Not on our own strength, that is for sure. Thank you for sharing all that you do.

Claire Plante said...

Thank you, Anna, for sharing your beautiful writing! This is such a good reminder that we need to be patient and gentle with ourselves, especially when our behavior is not as, ahem, evolved, peaceful and mature as we would like it to be. Even with the hard lessons endured.

Sometimes it is o.k. to be annoyed, and then rather than getting annoyed and hard on ourselves about being annoyed, it's best to do it and then just let it float away. That's harder to do when we beat ourselves up.

Thinking of you always and sending lots of love,
Claire

Anonymous said...

I love the thing about manna tasting like tofu. I bet it DOES taste just like tofu, only drier.

Yum!

Perhaps Tim would enjoy a serving or two...He could chew it very slowy and savor each bite...

Child of God said...

It is too easy to forget life's tough lessons and slip into grumbling over the daily tasks or things that bother us. It is normal and very human, which you are both. I am so grateful for the stories of the very real people in the Bible.

Praying and standing beside you Anna.
<><

Karen L. said...

Sounds like a healthy, healing person to me. Totally normal that those "funny" things stand out to you these days----I am glad that we can feel normal even when we're still healing from tough things, even the most awful things. I remember when I was in deep grief, I got caught up with some silly little thing that made me angry yet then caused me to laugh it all off when I realized that it was indeed just "normal life". That's a blessing to realize that as you are. Normal annoyances can be God's way of reminding you that there's some normal ahead for you and your precious ones. Love, Karen

Anonymous said...

Anna, This is one of my favorite posts ever. So real, so true. You have just got it! You have such a gift to put these deep thoughts into words. Truly feel blessed to be reading this blog.

Stacy from AL

Anonymous said...

You are just Amazing!
I came here tonight, secretly hoping for a new post, looking for some words of comfort, words of wisdom, because I am having one of those nights....and here they are, your words, like they are speaking directly to my heart.
I honestly believe that you are an amazing instrument, which Heavenly Father speaks through to reach out to many, many people.
Thank you for your words, your openness and your heart. I hope you know how many lives you bless. I am so sorry you had to endure such pain in your life and think and pray for you often.

Kelly Rojas said...

Thank you for this reminder. I love your blog and I am still always praying for you and your family!

The Empress said...

I'm grateful you have this blog, too. I feel blessed seeing that which He's promised come to be a testament through you.

That's what you are: His promises made live.

Sharon @ Elizabeth & Co. said...

Oh Anna, I am so touched that you are comfortable enough with us (mostly complete strangers) to share your story with us - the good moments and especially the bad. I love that you don't sugar coat it. That takes trust and a brave heart. Whatever you are feeling on any given day, at any given hour or even any given minute is okay. They are your feelings and you own them. Thank you for sharing. You are here for us every bit as much as we are here for you! Hugs to you Anna!

Rach said...

I always swore I wouldn't forget. And I didn't. But, I did. It's tough, the little nit pickies and yet knowing--REALLY knowing--the big picture.

Still praying for you and your family.

Hugs,
Rach

Mandy said...

I love how real and transparent you are. You are a gifted communicator, and I always feel connected to you when I read your posts. Thank you!

Peg said...

So my sister and her husband died and I'm not parenting two of her daughters along with our three boys.

People tell me all the time how awesome I am or that there is a special place in heaven for me, but most days I just want my sister back and forget all about the "life is short" lessons I was supposed to learn after the accident. I often say and things to God that won't say me a special seat next to him.

Although it certainly is a different sort of grief, thank you for often putting into words what I'm feeling. Thank you for reminding me about faith, love and family.

Peg said...

sorry...that was supposed to say "now parenting"...bad typing :)

Anonymous said...

beautifully written as usual. and as usual thanks for the reminders

SheriJane said...

keepin it real! even tho you and me both wish it wasn't your reality :(

Jana said...

I love this. Oh, how I love this! Thanks Anna.

Anonymous said...

So I have been afraid to ask you this for fear of saying something inappropriate or just plain stupid and obvious, but after reading this post I feel like I can. Do you ever dwell on times you may have spoken to Jack overly harshly or "man-handled" him out of the car, and cry your eyes out? After many of my bad moments as a mother of 3 I think of you and Jack, and try to do better next time. Your honesty through this horrible journey is amazing. xoxo

Kim said...

We ARE all in this together.

ella said...

Beautiful post, Anna.

Cathy said...

Amazing post. Love and Hugs!

Wendy said...

praying for you tonight. ♥
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sG94EKGDcU

Pam Priester said...

This post is amazing. The amount of grace you extend to us through your words is extraordinary. God's light is really shining in you, Anna. That you can have this wisdom and these insights and then pen these words is a huge gift to each of us. Thanks for reflecting such humility and truth.

L said...

I love you. That is all.

Anonymous said...

Anna~
Just know that someone out here in
Arizona wakes up in the middle of the night. And when I do, I pray that the Lord is holding you, Tim, and Margaret safe in that precise moment.
Jill
P.S. Do you think you might write a book? I hope so! A title comes to mind...The House that Jack Built.

Laura at Ms. Smartie Pants said...

You are brilliant! I remember when my very best friends' son died and no one wanted to talk about anything around her because it didn't compare to what she was going thru. I would remind them we all have stuff, my stuff may not compare to your stuff but it's the stuff I got in my basket right now. Everybody's baskets' got it's own stuff, the range is big, and just because yours has grief, sorrow and death, doesn't mean it doesn't have all the other crap too! xoxo

Ross said...

Great post! I really admire your words that you bless all of us with.

Recovering Church Lady said...

I love you and the way you are nearly obsessive about being honest and real with us! I too, am determined to keep it real and struggle with people's perception that I am a better person than I am.
We love you in all your strengths and weaknesses, we love you for them.

Geri said...

What a great post. It is the way my husband drinks that drives me crazy. Can't even describe it, but the sound he makes while chugging a glass of milk sends me running from the room, wondering what I even saw in him in the first place! And I do remember eating dinner a few weeks after Nick died, and feeling closer and more loving towards him than I ever have, and yet, yet, when he started to drink his water thinking "I could smack you in the face with a shovel right now".

And yes, we are all in this together; as a line I recently read says "we are all just walking each other home."

Lady Jennie said...

I was just thinking about you this morning - the strangest times (while driving) and the strangest things! I was thinking that you would probably be half-glad to die. I was picturing you as an old lady on your death bed, thinking "finally Jack - here I come!"

See what I mean about strange? Why am I so weird? But then you wrote about one foot in this life, one foot in the other, so maybe not so weird after all.

I have great perspective and terrible perspective, all rolled into one. And the little things bother me. The screeching and hollering and fighting bother me, even though I am so so grateful.

Meg McCormick said...

Oh, the chewing. I have a chewer, too. I'm with you, sister. And I appreciate the reminders of how grateful we should be for every single moment, and I know it's all too easy to get caught up in the grind and forget. And it's humbling to know that in the face of everything, you, too, get distracted by the daily minutiae.

I spent time cleaning my floors this past Friday morning. Then my 16 year old and 3 of his friends started a sleepover / campout / bonfire on Saturday and were in and out of the house all day Sunday and the floors looked worse after they left than they did before I cleaned them! But they were here, where we could keep half an eye on them. And - they were HERE.

NancyDJ said...

Thank you for this!

tracy@sellabitmum said...

What an incredibly beautiful post. xoxo

inspirejenny said...

"I remember, I forget"....beautiful..
beautiful, beautiful....

thank you for being real...and for letting strangers into your grief, your moments of beating it back, and your everyday being...

blessings to you

-Jenn from Augusta GA

Lisa said...

Your blog is an inspiration. I check it everyday to read your words. I pray for you, Tim and Margaret. God Bless

wendy @ mama one to three said...

how utterly odd that grief turns us only more human. you show how we are all living our lives in both the sacred and the mundane, as we must. thank you for sharing the hardest loss.

Marlo said...

My daughter died in November of 2007. I was looking through my Christmas scrapbook and realized that I don't have any pages for Christmas 2008, 2009, or 2010. I thought I would go back and print some pictures to fill in those pages... and there aren't any. I don't even remember those years. I want to encourage you that this year I have started taking pictures again. I have started living again. Press on dear one. Each day is one day closer to Jack, not one day farther away.
PS. My husband's chewing annoys me too.

Theresa O said...

Things do change in an instant...if we have learned anything from Jack's accident, it is definately that. I worry every day. Jack's accident has made us all realize we are never promised tomorrow. Our kids are never promised tomorrow. As unfair and as scared as hell as it makes me with my own son, we just never know what tomorrow will bring. So I beleive that everyone that has heard Jack's story, realizes this, and with such great tradegy, has also blessed others with your strength and wisdom,your family's stories and beautiful pictures, triumphs, challenges, memories, and makes each of realize we need to be grateful for what we have. Much love and peace wished for you.

Meg said...

Thanks for sharing and for being so open. It is hard to keep the perspective and to let the little things go. Jack and all of you are in my thoughts and prayers.

Kristen said...

This is so, so good.

Mommy's Shoes said...

Ok. So I just met you today and I already love you. (Inappropriate, I realize.) I have felt THAT many, many times. God bless you for agreeing with me! lol

Anonymous said...

I wonder if anyone has a husband that chews correctly?

julie gardner said...

This post is a gift: so generous and lovely and true.

As you said, everything changes. All the time. And we have our love and each other to see us through.

Dawn B said...

Thanks for this post -- needed to read this today. It puts my "to do" list (nothing terribly important in light of eternity :) in perspective! Love to you all!

Lil Jenn said...

Ditto. As a mom of an angel in heaven and boys in my home I can relate everyday. Thanks so much for writing - it's so great for another mother to read!

Heather said...

I too have lost a child and so I know exactly what you mean! I struggle with feeling guilty for having bad days or getting angry/annoyed with my children, especially since after Serena died there was a very real period of time when I thought I would never be a mother again. To make it worse, whether it's real or perceived, I feel like others expect me to be in a forever state of gratefulness and when I'm not, well . . . Thank you for sharing and know that you're not alone in your sorrow. There aren't many of us unlucky enough to have lost a child, but we're there. Don't feel guilty for your bad days; they are reality. God doesn't expect anything else! :)

Leslie said...

Oh Anna, this post... wow. I wrote my own post after struggling through Glennon's Carpe Diem post months ago. I'm not home much, working two jobs and having no weekends, and I'm in constant fear of missing things with my children and hating myself later. It took me a few months to realize she was right. Especially after September, where I felt like I was a wretch, an evil wretch for overlooking ANYthing, even a rough late night with the kids because how DARE I not cherish it when others can't even get a rough night with their son.

I thought about Glennon's post for a long time. Finally, I understood what she was saying, that it's OK to not cherish everything. I won't regurgitate my post here, but it was a big turning point for me. How tired are we of beating ourselves up for everything? EVERYTHING.

The last thing you need to do is, on top of every other emotion, beat yourself up for being annoyed with Tim's chewing or Margaret finding her shin guards. There are some things we just don't need to cherish. I try to remember that, too.

Always praying for you - each of you. And though it makes no sense coming from a random blog reader, I miss Jack deeply when I see boys his age. I hold back tears and pray for you over and over.

Headless Mom said...

Wanted to let you know I'm still around and reading. xoxo

Gina said...

You know I sometimes think that grief makes the little things in life that annoy us into bigger things. I equate grief to dragging around a big bag of bricks everywhere you go. When you are carrying that weight around it just makes the mundane more exhausting and irritating.

Alisha said...

So, I can still get frustrated about my son leaving his shoes out in the living room?? He caught me yesterday and loved every minute of pointing it out!! This was a blessing to read. Thank you for your heart.

Anonymous said...

Hear, Hear, you go Anna. thanks for sharing, stay strong. Mary in NY

Kate Coveny Hood said...

"manna tastes like tofu" - you crack me up.

I rarely worry about whether I'm living in the moment and appreciating all that I have EVERY second of the day. Most of the time I am - and the rest of the time I wonder if I'll have a galley kitchen until I'm an old woman.

It's okay to be petty sometimes. Otherwise, we'd have no tolerance for the the momentary pettiness of others.

befriendingfaith said...

Beautiful. Our life is still our life, even after the unthinkable has happened. Still praying for you!
-Holly

Heidi said...

I really needed to see this today. It would take too long to get into the 'why', but I wanted to tell you I needed this.
Ha! Manna tastes like tofu. I bet it did. The way Scott slurps his coffee makes me crazy. Seriously crazy. Sometimes I have to sit in a different room to drink my coffee.

Jori said...

Thank you so much for this post. I needed it. I am a cancer survivor. When I was uncertain if I would survive or not, being a judgemental petty person was the furthest thing from my mind. I was much more charitable and patient. Now that I am well,I find myself slipping and being small. It makes me feel guilty. Thank you for reminding me that we are human, and doing our best.

I pray for your family and think of you often. Thank you for sharing your journey with us.

Anonymous said...

I am truly grateful I found this blog. I've been having my own hard time lately, working full time and taking care of a baby and a toddler, and trying to keep my relationship with my husband going strong, taking care of a house, paying bills, blah blah blah. It's a lot, and I am constantly questioning my choices, instead of just enjoying the moment.

I think, though, you sharing your story is just so generous and you are teaching a lot of us that we do have it good, and we should suck it up sometimes and just be grateful.

I don't know if I believe in God, but I believe in grace, and goodness, and honesty, and forgiveness. My young cousin and my uncle were killed together in a horrific car crash 16 years ago - my other cousin survived the crash, and my aunt wasn't in the car at all. You only need to look at the loving, productive lives my aunt and her surviving child are now living (which my aunt did not think possible for many years) to believe in forgiveness and grace, and I think you found that a long time ago. I already know you will be ok, even if you don't believe it.

Anonymous said...

I just started reading this question. Dumb question... are Jack and Jake the same person?

Kathleen said...

Anna

Thank you for your gift of beautiful writing. I just stumbled upon your blog today and you put in words what so many feel and are going through as bereaved parents. I feel as if you and I would be good, good friends. I have never met you or Jack but I will always remember. I have a 13 year old son who loves baseball, is a WFU fan (we live in Kernersville), plays baseball, asks thoughtful questions like Jack, always forgives our parenting mistakes, always does what is asked, never lies and puts up with my dumpster diving projects and hangs out in thrift stores with me. ...As a grief worker (I am a hospice nurse and have worked with parents), your remarkable insight and depth regarding the barren land of grief shows how very good God is, how very much God loves us, how very much we can conquer by continuing. You are a remarkable women of grace. You will be always in my hugs and prayers and please if ever in Winston Salem, stop in and say hello.

Kathleen O'Brien

connie said...

Thank you for this beautiful post.

mia said...

Anna, you are so real, and honest... a true blessing. Thanks for sharing so much of yourself. xoxoxo

Lori Gard said...

I found you via Momastery, as recommended by Glennon. I am deeply touched by your story, and the love and faith that radiates from your writing. Thank you for your honesty. May you continue to find healing for these wounds and enduring hope for the future. God bless you and your dear family.

Kris said...

You are a true observer of human nature. What a great post.

The Green Family said...

I'm here, you lift me up and remind me everyday to be thankful for what I have.

I'm praying for you.

DawnGes said...

This is wonderful, Anna--once again you've given me something to chew on...

Love to you today! xo

Burdine Family said...

Hi Anna,
I don't post very often but for some reason tonight I hear a soft voice telling me to post...maybe you need something extra tonight. I read your blog every single day. I started reading long before that terrible day in September and felt very close to your family. As we all were, I was completely shocked when I opened your blog that day and read of the terrible tragedy that had struck your family. That day my life was changed. Anna, I have to tell you that Jack is with me every day. I can't explain it really. No signs of beautiful blue jays or rare birds but I can feel him with me. Every time I get frustrated with my children, I hear someone whisper, "patience". Jack is helping me become a better mom. Something I have been struggling with for awhile. He is helping me to see my kids for what they really are...miracles from God. He is giving me the help I have been praying to receive. There is not a day that I don't think of him, of you.
I hope this post gives you some comfort. I am always nervous that I will come off as being insensitive or disrespectful, none of which I am meaning to be in this post. I just wanted you to hear from yet another person who has been changed by your sweet Jack.
Always in my prayers,
Marie

Steph said...

Thank you for such an insightful post. I frequently get discouraged that I do sweat the small stuff and don't appreciate what I have. It is good to know it happens to all of us. Much love.

Joanna said...

Anna - you amaze me! I loved this post ... There are no words for the perspective that you bring to life. I work with Suzie Turner and she sings your praises and told me I had to check out your blog. I have loved getting to know you and being a part of a community of faith-focused women. Both you and Glennon have changed my life ... Thanks for helping me to find focus on what's truly important. Big hugs to you my sweet friend! Love, Joanna

Jackie Kwon said...

Anna -- i have been reading your blog religiously since Jack's accident, but have never commented. Every time I read an entry of yours, I can't help but run and kiss my little boy. Thank you for reminding me to treasure the days, even though the days seems so long sometimes.

Anonymous said...

I think you are due some little things, actually. Take some of the pressure off? A little normalcy, as it were? I don't know. I DO know that you have the most incredible talent for putting complex feelings and emotions into words. You are such a pleasure to read.

love,
jbhat

Stimey said...

You are such a phenomenal woman. I truly mean that. And I'm glad you have this blog too. Love you.

Stefanie said...

I just came across your blog last night and found myself reading for over an hour. Your story and the way you tell it is heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. About a half hour after I stopped reading, close to midnight, my littlest one woke up crying. Instead of just patting her on the back and telling her to go back to sleep, I picked her up and held her for awhile. I silently asked for forgiveness for my attitude that day. Overwhelmed with little ones, potty training, and just life in general, I did not take the time to give thanks for my precious gifts. As I held her, stroking her hair, I thought of your precious son. I prayed for your family. Thank you for sharing your story.

Anonymous said...

Dear Anna,
One of my daughter's best friends sent me your blog because I, too, am a bereaved mom. Losing my precious daughter, Erica, on March 29, 2011, has completely changed my life. I haven't been able to read your blog all the way through, however, I will. Please accept my sympathy and understanding love for the loss of your beloved Jack. When you say you have one foot here, and one foot in Heaven, I know EXACTLY what you mean. There is a "before" life and an "after" life. Nothing will ever be the same. God is my refuge and strength and it is only through HIS grace that we will continue to live here and complete the works he has ordained for us. People misunderstand when I say I'm so ready to die - not to leave the loved ones I have here because that would be horrendous, but to see my precious girl again. Until then, I know the love she experiences every single day is so much greater than anything I could give to her. May God bless you today with a special peace.

Lisa said...

This was beautifully written. I absolutely love your honesty...thank you for continually sharing your story with us.

Michelle said...

Thank you for being so honest. This is the sort of thing that everyone feels, but won't admit, or feels guilty about. But seeing it in writing makes ya go "yeah, ofcourse that is how it is, for everyone, no matter the circumstances". Thanks for this. I needed this today.

Princess Kate said...

I saw a car today with the Jack magnet on the back driving around the local area. Made me smile and sad all at the same time. Even though I wish for you that I had never heard about Jack, I thank you for sharing him with me. He's part of my life now.

Debby@Just Breathe said...

Anna,
Another amazing post from you and you are teaching the world. You are teaching us something no one ever wants to live through and those who are walking with you through their own grief love reading your honesty. I did love the post by Glennon. I think of how many times I have told woman to savor each moment because they are fleeting yet many days as a parent were so very hard. When I read this post of yours I wanted to say Amen! Thank you for writing these posts for us to read.
Hugs,
Debby

Meredith from A Mother Seeking said...

This is such a powerful post and so important for all of us to hear. It's hard to remember all the time. I thought that after my dad died, every day of life, maybe every moment would be different. I would cherish it all... to honor him. But of course life is life and there are still work stresses, the kids' lost items and all that fun. Thank you for helping me understand that even you can forget sometimes. I guess we all do. Thanks for sharing; it is very inspirational and helpful in my own grieving and living.

~ Meredith From A Mother Seeking
http://www.amotherseeking.com

A Mother Seeking...

Kristin said...

"I remember. I forget." And there you have just told the whole story of life. I love you more than words can say, Anna. Truly, sincerely, you are a gift to the world and to me.

Meredith Self said...

"manna tastes like tofu" --- priceless.

I haven't been on my computer in days. Yet I check the blog on my phone. It's hard to reply on the phone though. I've lost two replies already. Trying again tonight, here in the dark, on the phone, with baby nearby and actually sleeping. Can't make edits. Crazy auto corrects I can't fix. And I realize it doesn't even matter if anything I say is cinherent anyway because it's the love to you that really matters. That's here in endless galaxies worth. So stopping myself from continually starting over. And just being present loving you while my thumbs go blah blah blah blah. So here's some covert love. :)

Kathy at kissing the frog said...

Anna, I came across your blog quite randomly, and I've continued to read because I, too, have lost a son. Sunday will be the two year "crapiversary" of his death from cancer. We have four other sons, and every single day I struggle with trying to find joy in the small things. Some days I do this better than others. It's amazing how quickly I get caught back up in the "daily grind" and lose sight of what's really important. That said, I don't expect everyone to understand what I've been through and adjust their thinking to mine because everyone has something different she's struggling with, and that's okay. Thanks for sharing your journey with us.

Marta said...

Yes, I do actually want/need to know that sometimes you get caught up in the petty too. Cause often times I feel so damn ungrateful that I'm not savoring every last moment that instead of spending sometime watching a Scooby Doo movie with Ben I would rather be upstairs watching Mad Men. Because one day I won't even have that option. But we each do our best. To savor. To live. To remember. To be selfish and selfless.

Roby said...

Wow, beyond words...At first, I thought it was amazing, your friend turned on the radio, and there was your quote, then to see it on your wall in the kitchen....But I just returned to listen again, and just noticed the name of the song, "I'll be Waiting". God bless your whole family. I am awed by the love your family shares, and the God-winks happening.
Peony

Mimi said...

I wish the world had more mothers willing to be honest the way you are. You have every right to be bothered by the little things, even when you know there is a bigger picture out there. I don't understand mom blogs that paint this unrealistic picture of how clean and easy and happy everyday is. All that does is make moms doubt themselves. I've been praying for you a lot lately as Sam cut his first too teeth and has been up every hour howling. Blessed to have him, but man were you covered in prayer for the last two weeks at the oddest hours!

Kara said...

It is comforting that your husband's chewing annoys you, just to know that some struggles are truly universal. Keep on keepin' on, sister.

Cynthia said...

Ditto L's comment! XO

stardustdawn said...

You have a talent for expressing truth. Thank you!

Fairy Godmother said...

Love this one:)

Ann Imig said...

"Manna tastes like tofu" = hilarious.

Remember, forget, ebb flow.

K A B L O O E Y said...

ANn Imig beat me to the punch. I want a 'Manna tastes like tofu" t-shirt and I want it NOW. And I also agree with Marie of the Burdine Family who says she was changed when she learned about Jack. A lot of the time I remember how life could change in an instant and am a better, more patient mom, but sometimes I still want to climb up on the roof and take a mommy time out. Human, I guess. Thank you for the millionth time.

The Mommy Therapy said...

I'm way, way behind on my blog reading, but this post brought me to tears of gratitude. I often think of you and of Jack when I am crying in a pool of self pity that my husband is never here and I feel my 2, 4, and 6 year old are actually working to drive me insane, rather than just being kids. On top of my annoyance at my own situation, I heap on guilt for feeling it. This was like a bucket of grace water. Thank you for sharing this!