My Big Fish

I had seen this movie before Michael's passing. After everything happened I had a yearning to see this film again, and it was afterward that I knew why. There are so many scenes that I can relate so closely with. 

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Dancing Lessions

08_28_09.jpgI have always felt like a flunky on the dance floor. At my college roommate’s wedding an elderly man (he was probably the age I am now) asked me to dance. I politely said that I did not know how to dance but he insisted that it was simple and all that I needed was to follow his lead. Ignoring my protests, he grabbed me, leaving me little choice. The next five minutes were horribly awkward and embarrassing. I clung to him for dear life as he shuffled me around the dance floor, flinging me left and then right, trying to get me to twirl. I resisted him mightily and I am sure he had no fun. Served him right.

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Aching

08_26_09.jpgThis morning was the first day of school for my boys. I went to work very early; then planned to get back in time to make them breakfast and make sure they were set for the day. As I was driving home from work, I started to feel it. The dull ache. The one that began on the first day of school four years ago.

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Our Mountain

08_26_09_1.jpgI remember when I was able to trust with everything in me. Trust God. Have faith. I knew I was blessed... Our lives were difficult, yes, but it was good. When the rug was pulled from under me I wasn't sure if I was going to ever reach that place again. The place where faith was second nature and trusting was never a question. 

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Stay by you, when it don't come easy.

08_25_09.jpgDuring Daniel's last few months and during the peak of his illness, he told me that a song he'd heard made him think of me, and of us, and the crap we were going through. At the time, the song made me cry and think of all of the ways we supported each other and how scary it all was. Now, the song makes me think of him, it still makes me cry, and it makes me think of how much it applies to the life I never wanted to live without him.

 

 

 

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My Love of Headstones

08_24.jpgI used to be afraid of cemeteries. Well, not exactly afraid, but I thought they were creepy. Walking around a place that held lots of dead bodies made me nervous. I would step gingerly around the headstones, being careful not to tread anywhere I thought a person might be laid to rest, and wondering how far out I needed to step to avoid the entire plot. Any sudden noise startled me, and I couldn't wait to get out of there. Then Phil died.

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There Are No Words

08_23_09.jpgThere have been many times since Phil's death that words have escaped me. When asked how I was in the early days my answer was often a dumbfounded stare. What words could be used to describe the pain that was ripping through my body at that moment? 

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Songs

Songs. From the time Michael was killed I remember leaning on music and songs to help speak the words I was feeling, and in a way, let my self realize the reality in front of me. 

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It Is What It Is

I was complaining to my daughter (yes I complain still!) as I was filling out a financial aid form for private school, that I didn't like doing it and that I wanted to be the rich one instead of the not rich one. And maybe I would see if there was any possible way we could afford it so that I wouldn't have to apply for assistance. 

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The Road Less Traveled.

08_20_09.jpgI had no clue what to blog about today. I've been processing many things the past few weeks... but no idea how to begin expressing any of it in words. This quote was read to me this morning... (thanks, WSM!) and I believe it helped me sum up my findings:

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