[This post has been edited on 04/10/19]
This is a season of gratitude and crap.
Gratitude because our hockey team, the Nashville Predators just won the Division Championship.
Crap because our hockey team, blah-blah-blah, just won the Division Championship and now we’re in the playoffs.
Gratitude because we’re in the playoffs.
Crap because we’re in the play-offs which reminds me of our son going to play-off games with us in 2017 and celebrating his favorite player, Victor Arviddson. Chris had also started acting odd. Odd like getting lost, leaving games early, not showing up on time to go to games and other abnormal behaviors like losing jobs.
The play-off year of 2018 was worse. In January Chris was diagnosed with a very rare brain disease: adult onset leukodystophy with axonal spheroids and pigmented glia.
Gratitude for 911, EMS, ER’s, PhD’s, MD’s, RN’s, LPN’s, PT’s, Family, Friends, Neighbors, Strangers and God’s presence entwined in our Hell.
Crap because they were all needed.
Gratitude for the diversion in the spring of 2018 when the Predators got into the playoffs again. Chris stayed home with Gretchen and the home caregiver that would come while we were at the games. He needed help eating and walking, but he sat and watched the Predators with his sister and his caregiver – falling asleep many times in the recliner.
I’m coming to the conclusion that everything in our personal lives, focuses on our children. No matter how old they get, they’re still our children. I’d gotten to the age where I would joke that our kids, Chris and Gretchen, were now older than me. Terry has always been an old soul. Me, not so much, although I feel like my soul has aged decades in less than a year.
Gratitude for our daughter who was such a hero to him and to us. She is very devoted to her brother and they loved each other dearly. My heart will never heal from their sorrows.
Crap because I’m writing about loss again. It’s almost a year since our son Chris died. Time flies, and then again, it stands still.
Gratitude. I got words down.
Crap. I got words down.
A neighbor gifted me a book on grief. It’s been a Godsend.