Apologies

This is so true. There is something so healing in receiving an apology and in giving a heartfelt apology. Our children need to know that we are human and we make mistakes. 

A very profound moment in my life happened when I walked into my junior honors English classroom to find a small envelope on my desk. Inside the envelope was a note of apology from my favorite high school teacher. He was concerned that he had said something that hurt me the previous day. He told me that my personality and smile were one of the bright spots in his day, and he hated to think that he had dimmed them, even momentarily. *This is a paraphrase because the note is (sadly) in a box right now. Also, I wouldn’t want to write out his exact words without his permission. 

I hadn’t been deeply hurt by the perceived offense the day before. I can’t even remember what it was. Even so, this note was/is so special to me. I still have it. I still cherish it. The humility of an adult touched my heart.

"Counting Every Blessing"

In case anyone thinks that I have a ridiculous and perhaps supernatural gift of optimism, I'll share some of the other titles for this blog post I workshopped in my head:

I'm not ok, but it's alright
The cup isn't half full/empty, someone's knocked it over and stomped on it
Hanging by a thread
Deployments stink
I might be losing my mind

Full disclosure: I've been working on this blog post for weeks.  There are some days when I feel like I'm totally crushing this deployment thing and other days I feel like I'm a failure in even the simplest areas of life.  The other day (while S was SOOOOO sick) E woke up from nap crying for his Daddy.  It was such an awful day that I almost felt like crying for Will with him instead of comforting him.  I'm so glad those days don't last forever!  The next day was better, and it was filled with so many blessings.

I opted to forgo the more negative and titles for something more hopeful because no matter how awful I feel, I do have hope, and I know that I have considerable blessings.  The problem is that I am given to melancholy.  When I should be focusing on being the best possible version of myself during a time of trial, I spend a lot of my time comparing myself to other military spouses who seem to be a million times better at deployments than I am.  These are the lies I tell myself, and the lies I let myself believe.  They don't serve me well.

I've recently connected with another military spouse whose husband is deployed.  Community (even two people) can offer understanding, empathy, and support in such a special way.  I try to be open about my struggles.  Being open and honest has rarely hurt me. Instead, being open has brought me comfort and the reassurance that I'm not alone in my struggles.  Bottling things up and pretending that I'm fine, when I'm anything but, has definitely done far more damage.  

My husband is one of the smartest people I've ever met.  Will is capable and though he feels things deeply (like anyone), he is not one to wallow.  He helps me to put one foot in front of the other and he    shares my burden when simple things feel like "impossible tasks."  I talked about that a bit in my last "About Me" post.  Needless to say, life is infinitely better when I am with him, but sometimes I rely too heavily on him.  I love being with him so much.  It's easy to hide behind our home-life and give into my social anxiety.  It cripples me sometimes, and he's my safe place.  He gets me (most of the time).

This Thanksgiving, I've found myself surrounded by an incredible amount of blessings.  I'm finding joy even in the hard parts of this deployment.  I got to see and talk to Will via my phone/the internet, and I was surrounded by a loving and appreciative family.  I'm working hard on counting every blessing even when it feels like life is more of a struggle.  Once upon a time, people weren't able to "see" their deployed spouses, or talk to them on the phone almost daily.  Our ability to connect so frequently is pretty amazing.

About me

1. I’ll start with my easiest identifiers: I'm a Christian, wife, and mother of 4 children (and 2 children I never got to hold in my arms).
2. I'm deeply flawed.  In spite of this, I am deeply loved by my friends and family.  The by-product of this is being deeply blessed. This is a gift I try to repay by loving in every way I'm capable.
3. I have an amazing husband who sees me for who I am and loves me.  He doesn't always understand me (nor I him), but he is patient and kind while I process things (sometimes slowly) emotionally and mentally.  He is the smartest, funniest, and most capable person I know.  We've been together for almost 15 years, and he's still my favorite person to be around.  I don't think many people would have seen our relationship coming freshman year of college (we were/are SO very different in many ways), but I'm grateful for the way we were brought together.
4. I'm a mother to four of the smartest and quirkiest kids I know.  They are also some of the most stubborn and frustrating kids I've ever met, but I'm so grateful that they're mine.  Full disclosure: sometimes I have to repeat that last bit to myself because motherhood is hard.  It's the most thankless job I've ever had, and I'm in the trenches of it now.  I lose my patience and yell more often than I'm proud to admit, but I try to be quick to apologize.  I try to be a good example to them of love, humility, and grace.  Every once in a while I'm successful and sometime I am not.  Thank God for grace.
5. I pray that my kids love me and look up to me the way I love and look up to my Mom.  I'm sorry for any minor (or major) inconvenience I have ever caused her.  She's a blessing to everyone around her.  She's the best example, currently walking the earth, of who I want to be.
6. I'm (like everyone else) incredibly insecure.  I fight guilt and a deep feeling of being "less than" those around me constantly.  I spend too much time comparing myself to others.  I know that "comparison is the thief of joy" but I think measuring ourselves next to others is a (super lame) part of human nature.
7. I'm an INFP: Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Perceptive.  I used to say I/E, but I feel confident and comfortable enough in my introvertedness now to drop the /E.  The sum of these traits basically means that I am a deep feeler.  I'm an empath for better or worse.
8. In Enneagram terms, I'm a 2 (Helper) wing 3 (Achiever).  After 2, my closest is 7 (Enthusiast).  There's a lot to unpack here, but I'll save that for another blog.  In case you can't tell, I really love psychology and the study of personalities.
9. I am a lover of all things creative.  This often presents itself in my make-up, clothing, painting, writing, decorating, baking, cooking, and everything else.  One of my favorite things to do is go to a place in Omaha called The Makery and create things.  It's peaceful and I'm not making a mess in my own home.
10. I like to think of myself as an open book.  I don't share everything on here, because so much of my story doesn't belong to just me.  If we're talking in person, I will gladly tell you the real story of what's going on in my life if I feel that your interest is genuine and not superficial.
11. I often feel crippled by anxiety and depression.  If it feels like I post a lot of selfies or pictures of my kids and me, it's because I need to remind myself that I'm putting one foot in front of the other.  Antidepressants are a gift from God.  I struggle to get out of bed without them.
12. I like to write my blog as if I'm having a conversation with you, the reader.  I'm a big fan of parentheses.  I'm sure you've noticed.  It's my way to let you into my head and thought process a bit more.
13. I'm passionate about so many things that I have a very hard time focusing on any one thing.  I've spent the last 13 years focusing most of that passion on my family.  I don't regret that, but I do worry about how it might affect the future.  Companies don't typically value over a decade of caring for a family, and I'm not sure I'm the type who could stand to stay home when all of my kids are in school/leave the nest.  I feel like I have a lot to offer, but little marketable experience.  It drives me crazy.
14. This blog is a great way for me to process things.  I get stuck in my own head.  Sometimes, it helps me to write it all out.  Every once in a while I push publish and share it with the world.  More often than not, I write a blog and leave it unpublished.  I have the dozens of unpublished posts that either exist for me to look back on my thought process or are waiting for further inspiration.
15. No one asked for information about me. It probably seems silly to share it, but I think we all want to be seen for who we are (even the ugly stuff) and valued.  

Just like that

Will left at 4:45 in the morning.  I hardly slept last night.  Of course, I was deep asleep when he kissed me goodbye and told me how much he loved me.  I was groggy and didn't say everything I wanted to.  It's silly, because he's still in the US for a bit, and we can talk, text, and Facetime when he's available to do so, but it still felt like such a big moment in my mind.

The kids are ok-ish.  E struggled at nap time.  He's a total daddy's boy, so he's going through some extra separation anxiety.  Daddy was here when he went to bed, and gone when he woke up.  For a three year old, that's tough.  A & D went to church with Grandma and spent time with sweet friends for a bit of the day.  D was extra cuddly tonight.  They've been here before.  It's never been for this long, but they remember long periods of time without Dad.  I'm praying that they're extra gracious with me, but I know that I'll have to exercise a good deal of grace their way.  It's hard age to be apart from your Dad.

S is a spitfire.  She's super cute, and doesn't really know what's going on.  It will be a blessing and a curse for her.  She's very jealous of poor Luna, so I'm having to constantly remind her to be nice and gentle ("Lord, beer me strength!").  She was super lovey with me as I put her to bed tonight.  I'm grateful for her easy smile and silly demeanor.  She helps keep things light around here (when she's not getting in trouble).

This is the worst part of the day.  The kids are in bed, and it's "our" time.  I miss sitting next to him and laughing at ridiculous movies or TV shows.  I still text him funny memes I find throughout the day, so that helps a bit.  I have to get used to the new normal for a while.  I'll get there.  It's just going to take time.  I'm blessed to be married to a man who I miss so very much, so very quickly.  I'm sitting in bed, watching Superstore (for the millionth time - he would be annoyed), and drinking water out of a cup from our Disney trip.  Even when he's not here the things in our room make me think of him, and there's comfort in that.

Thank you to all of the people who texted or sent messages today.  It meant the world to know that people were thinking about us, praying for us, and sending love our way.  Thank you to my Mom for bringing over breakfast, watching the kids so I could get a bit of rest, and spending time with us today.  Thank you to our sweet friends who picked up our bigs and took them to play with their kids for a bit - their time with your kids was the first entry in each of their gratitude journals.  It meant as much to them as it did to me.

I promise, I will try not to let this blog become a sappy, woe-is-me-my-husband-is-gone kind of blog.  It's going to be a big part of our lives for a long while, and I'm trying my best to be positive.  Sometimes things are just tough.  I'm not always great at sugar coating.  A huge thank you to the people who stick with me through this.  <3 nbsp="" p="">

We're getting a dog

I know what you're thinking.  Catherine, you have four kids, and your husband is getting ready to deploy, perhaps this isn't the optimal time to add another piece to the chaotic jigsaw puzzle that is your life.  I hear you (and the other people who have also voiced this concern).  I do understand the concern, but I think that with some of the emotional unrest and familial upheaval we're hurling rapidly towards, a dog will be somewhat centering and therapeutic.  The bigs will have some extra responsibility, we'll have a sweet little dog to cuddle and spoil while Will is gone, and she just might help A to deal with some of her big emotions as she transitions into middle school (How on earth did middle school show up so quickly?).

I know that many of my friends and family are huge advocates of animal rescue.  I am, too!  I wanted nothing more than to offer a loving home to a dog in need.  I am sorry to say that we failed at our attempt to go that route.  It wasn't from lack of effort on my part, so I do hope we'll be forgiven.  I've been searching for a while.  I've scoured dog rescue websites, placed applications (always a few too far down the list to get the dog requested), I've gone through the process of having references called (Shout out to my amazing references!  I love you guys!) as a means of being pre-approved for a dog, and I've made multiple attempts to take in dogs in need of re-homing.  I also found that it can be hard to rescue with small children in the home.  So many of the dogs were listed with the caveat that they should go to either childless homes or homes with older children.  I hope that our next dog will be a rescue or even a foster.  

We have chosen a very loving breeder, who clearly cares for all of her puppies and their parents.  A friend recently picked up a puppy from her farm and had such a lovely experience that we felt comfortable going through her, too.  Today, we met our sweet puppy!  Her name is Luna Lovegood Kousma.  Her name is an obvious homage to Harry Potter for us.  I know that Lovegood sounds a bit sketchy (something that Will pointed out) if you're not a fan of HP.  I promise, there's nothing untoward going on here. :)

She's half Maltese, a quarter Shih-Tzu, and a quarter Poodle.  We won't get to take her home until the end of the month, but we are head-over-heels for her.  She will be small-ish (probably around 10-12 lbs), sheddless-ish, super smart, loving, and she will grow up around our somewhat [read: super] loud home.  We can't wait to bring her home.  I haven't seen the kids so excited in ages.  We're taking small wins at this point, and she feels like a HUGE win from our point of view.  

About Today

Today was one of those days where *almost* everything that could go wrong, went wrong.  My patience, sanity, and everything else were tested.  Spoiler alert: it ended pretty stinking well, so we'll call it a wash/win.

First off, never trust two toddlers giggling in your shoe closet.  If they're anything like my toddlers, they're dumping half a sippy cup of milk all over your shoes and playing in it.  I almost wish someone could have taken a picture of my face the moment I discovered them.  It wouldn't have been pretty.  The look of horror would surely be amusing though.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  Don't worry, I cleaned up the milk, children, and shoes.  It felt like a rough start to the morning, but it was early, so I was still optimistic.

About an hour later, my potty training three year old (almost four...*"Lord, beer me strength" with this kid!) decided to pee all over the the dining room floor and on top of the blankets and pillows he had brought in there.  You've never met a kid who was more aware of his need to urinate at nap time/bedtime.  He's a super smart kid.  Sometimes it feels like he anger pees because I've annoyed him in some way.  I'm sure that's not the case, but it definitely felt true at that moment.  Once again, the child, floor, and blankets/pillows were washed.

In case you're keeping track, that is
Day: 2
Catherine: 0

About an hour after the second issue (it just seemed to work that way today), my three year old announced that he needed to go potty.  Obviously, I told him that he should go.  I don't like to hover, so I didn't hang out in the bathroom with him.  Bad call.  He decided that the day hadn't been action packed enough.  He unrolled a mega roll of toilet paper, shoved it into the toilet, and repeatedly flushed.  He then announced that the toilet was broken, because it wouldn't accept the full roll of toilet paper.  At this point, I am beside myself.  I don't think it will shock anyone to find out that I'm a girly girl.  I don't enjoy cleaning toilets, much less being elbow deep in one because my toddler has decided to test its capacity for toilet paper.  My big kids were at the park, so I was trying to keep the toddlers out of the totally gross bathroom while also trying to take care of the problem.

Day: 3
Catherine: perhaps negative something at this point?

A friend texted with happy news only to be met with my Debbie Downer day rundown.  I thank God for her, she then called to see if she could take my kids to lunch.  If Will hadn't been on his way home with lunch, I would have jumped at the opportunity.  I don't always accept help, but I was a complete mess at that point.

Day: 3
Catherine: at least a 1, maybe even a 1.5

I went outside to mow the lawn when Will got home from work.  I'm actually super allergic to grass, but I needed to get outside and I wasn't going to pass up kid-free time with noise canceling headphones and good music.

I think the score stays about the same here.  Again, I'm not exactly a yard work kind of girl.

Tonight, we went to the pool with friends from church.  I watched my second born jump off the diving board and go down the slide somewhat fearlessly (++), I watched my oldest (who struggles socially) play nicely with other kids who are a year or two older than her (++), I watched Will play with the littles (++), I saw and talked to friends who make my heart happy and who I think also enjoyed my company (+++).

Day: 3
Catherine: 10.5

Now, my babies (all happy and worn out from fun with friends) are all tucked in their beds, and I'm enjoying Netflix and time with Will (++++++).  I'm so grateful that he was still in town today when I needed him.  It won't be the case for long, so I'm going to cherish this time together.

If you made it through the novel that is this post (THANK YOU!), I wrote all of this because sometimes it's good to remind myself, and maybe you, that there are so many things to be grateful for even on the crappy days.  I was at my wit's end the first half of the day.  I haven't been sleeping well, and I think my kids can sense that things are hard right now.  I made it through the day, and we even made some great memories.

Final count
Day: 3
Catherine: 17 --> I decided to round up

*"Lord, beer me strength" is a quote from The Office (U.S.).  I use it often.  Don't worry, no alcohol was consumed here this morning.  ;) 

The Worst Military Spouse

My husband is deploying soon.  The orders were sudden and very unexpected.  I can't really say much about it other than that.  This is a totally normal situation for most military spouses, and I really do get that.  I feel like a petulant child for complaining at all, but here we are.  He's deployed before, but it was for a very short time period, and he volunteered for that deployment.  We had so much time to plan for it, and we only had two children at the time.  

I'm dealing with it in a variety of ways: stress cleaning, stress cooking/baking, pretending to keep it together (the degree to which I am successful from moment to moment obviously varies quite a bit), and spending a lot of time awake at night watching shows and movies I've seen a million times.  I'm praying for sanity, patience, and acceptance, but I am struggling.  

He's my best friend, and my partner in crime.  He sees me when I'm at my wit's end and utterly unlovable, and still chooses to love me.  If we were given the option, I would gladly pack up the kids and go with him (even though this place wouldn't be in the top 100 places I'd choose to live willingly) just so we didn't have to be apart.  The idea of not seeing him for over a year is unbearable.  Add to that the four little broken hearts I'll be tending to at home, and you can imagine the struggle.  Every time we do something as a family, I'm reminded that the next time we do that thing, he won't be there.  

I am not writing this for pity.  I don't want anyone to feel bad for me or our family. If anything, it's a request for grace or an attempt to be heard.  I'm sure there are a ton of military spouses like me who struggle to keep it together.  I will be trying my best, but I will undoubtedly struggle to make the mark regularly.  I might not be the best friend in the world while he's gone.  I will definitely struggle to be the mother I want to be to my children while he's gone.  I will be walking a fine line emotionally, so please don't feel like you need to mention his absence or tell me how strong I must be.  Honestly, either of those things might open the floodgates, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to close them once they've opened.

I know that I and WE will come out stronger at the end of all this.  I understand that people do this all the time.  This situation is not unique to us.  We will survive.  I just kind of hate everything right now.    

Enough

I've never hidden the fact that I struggle with major depression.  I have been on anti-depressants for a little over half of my life.  I'm currently in the process of weaning off of one less-than-effective med in favor of something that might be more helpful.  It stinks.  It's no fun.  Being around people is exhausting, and here's why: I spend 98% of my time around other people pretending that I am super happy and excited about everything because I'm afraid that if they knew that I actually feel like crap and wish I could be in my bed, they wouldn't want to be around me at all.  It's hard to struggle to get out of bed, and it's hard to feel like you're enough for the people in your life.

The idea of being enough is something I've been really struggling with lately.  It seems like I'm either too much or too little for people.  There doesn't seem to be a happy medium.  I say "seem" because I think that a lot of that is in my own head.  I have my own preconceived notions about what others expect of me, and they're often out of line with what people actually need/want.  That's not to say that I will always be enough for people.  There are definitely people in my life who struggle to accept that my best effort does not meet up to their expectations.

You can tell your family member/significant other/best friend that you love them and appreciate their efforts until you're blue in the face, but if your actions say otherwise, all of your words are useless.  People struggling with depression are excellent at giving themselves guilt trips.   As a result, we are quick to recognize when others are either subtly or outright guilt tripping us.  Actions always speak louder than words.  If you've never struggled with depression, it would be hard for you to understand just how soul-sucking depression can be.  Everyone wants to feel like they are enough.  It's hard to feel that way when people you love are constantly reminding you (through actions or words) that your efforts aren't enough.  Sometimes depression feels like you're drowning, and you're surrounded by people in life rafts.  These people have a spare life preserver and a spot in their raft, but instead of offering these to you, they tell you you're not trying hard enough.  They say, "if you'd only kick a little harder, you could probably make it to shore on your own."  As you can imagine, that's a rough position to be in.

As a Christian, I have had many people throw scriptures in my face like this might somehow change the makeup of my brain.  I've been told that depression means that you're living in the past (spoiler: it absolutely doesn't).  Most of us know all of the scriptures about being joyful or trusting in God.  Here's the thing, I do trust in God.  My hope is in God, but it doesn't take away my depression.  Let's talk about David, a man after God's own heart.  I think he knew a thing or two about depression.  He knew how to weep and feel deeply.  David wrote about his struggles in the Psalms. He wept, he mourned, he struggled.  Sometimes it feels like modern Christianity wants us to slap on a happy face at all times and pretend that the struggles of this world don't affect us.  We're so uncomfortable with people who feel things deeply and who struggle to suppress any difficulties they might be dealing with.  I don't pretend to be happy about everything for my own sake, I do it because I know that a lot of people wouldn't be comfortable around me if they knew that I really struggle like this.  I put my public persona on in the same way I apply my makeup.  I try to play up the better aspects of my personality, the parts of me that I know people enjoy being around.  To a certain extent, I have to remind myself that this is the hand I have been dealt.

I feel like this should come with a disclaimer: I do feel loved and accepted by most people in my inner circle.  Some of my struggles with this are of my own device.  Perhaps in masking my depression in social situations, I've duped people into believing that that's how I really feel most of the time, so the truth is harder to accept for them.

To my friends who also struggle with depression, anxiety, etc: I believe (on a cerebral level...I'm still working on the heart aspect) that we are enough.  No matter how we're made to feel, no matter what happens.  We are enough.  God made me, and God made you.  I believe that God doesn't make mistakes.  I've come to accept that depression is likely my 'thorn in the flesh.'  It's ok.  Everyone has struggles.  If I catch you out in the water some time during a life boat phase in my life, I promise to try to toss out the preserver.  I hope you'll do the same for me.  I'm not okay right now, but that's alright.  

Adventure

Mom and I returned from our adventure in New York City last night.  We walked 6+ miles a day, saw two broadway plays, and got blisters on our blisters.  ;)  It was thrilling and exhausting.  It was everything that an adventure should be.  There are few things that I love as much as people watching, and the city was absolutely perfect for it.  People are so interesting!  The way people walk, talk, and interact fascinates me.  Native New Yorkers reminded me of Batman in the Lego Movie, "I only work in black...and really, really dark gray!"  :)

Broadway was amazing!  Anastasia brought tears to my eyes.  There was a song about people having to flee their homeland.  They kept singing 'I'll bless my homeland till I die.'  It ripped my heart out.  It's so easy to view immigration and even refugees from a position of priviledge.  I've never felt like my safety and life in my homeland were mutually exclusive.  I think hearing that song, and the conviction in the voices of those actors really made our ferry out by Ellis Island so much more powerful the next day.  Whether you'd like to admit it or not, nearly all of us have immigrant roots.  I thank God for my family members who followed their dreams of a better life in America.

Aladdin was hilarious!  Man, that Disney money makes for some incredible set and costume options! We laughed until we cried.  Iago and the Genie were the obvious favorites.  It was such a blast!  I definitely wished that my kids could have seen it.  Next time, I will find a way to see Hamilton and Dear Evan Hansen.  I will admit that when we walked by Hamilton's grave at Trinity Church's Cemetery, I kept singing (quietly) songs from Hamilton.  It's a good thing that my Mom finds that sort of behavior endearing instead of annoying.  ;)

Our trip was so amazing, but it wouldn't have been possible without Will or my mother-in-law, Judy.  I really can't express my gratitude enough to the two of them.  Will took care of our kids, and Judy helped paint parts of our home that were in desperate need of attention.  She also helped organize and clean things that I had let slide a bit.  It was a huge comfort to know that my family was well taken care of while Mom and I were off exploring.

Now that I'm back home, the hustle and bustle is totally different.  I'm reffing sibling arguments and trying to keep Evan from knocking Sophia off of her one good foot.  I missed these silly, crazy kids!  I'm so happy to be home.  I'd love to live in NYC, but I am so happy with where my life is right now.  I start grad school in a couple of weeks.  That's the next big adventure.  ;)

"When I'm With You"

Something you might not know about me.  I don't love commitment.  I think that played a HUGE part in why it took me so [SOOOO] long to complete my bachelor's degree.  I'm interested in so many different things.  It felt like a crime to commit to just one of them for four years, let alone the rest of my life.  I told a friend last month that only two commitments have come easily to me in life: marrying Will and having children/being a mother.  It's Valentine's Day, so you'll have to bear with me (or just quit reading now) while I write about my husband for one post.

The first thing that attracted me to Will was his wit and sense of humor.  His looks and love of adventure followed close behind.  I knew that no matter where life took us, it wouldn't be boring. We both love(d) a challenge and adventure.  I also knew that he made me feel safe and loved.  I never felt like I had to hide the less than beautiful parts of myself from him in order to feel loved.

So- here's to the man who dreams with me, who holds me when the world feels like it's falling apart, and the one who brings calm to my life when my emotions get the best of me.  Here's to the man who is my opposite in almost all ways: he's the conservative to my liberal, the collected to my crazy, the objective outsider to my deeply emotional.

Will can tell when I'm struggling to keep it together.  He knows when I need time on my own to recharge.  He's willing to let me go off on short adventures with my Mom because he knows how special it is to be able to make those memories, and he understands how emotionally draining it can be to take care of four children day in and day out while he's working.

Will makes me laugh when I want to cry.  He brings a levity to my life that was sometimes lacking before him.  If I could offer my unmarried friends any advice, it would be to marry a person who makes you laugh.  Marrying someone who is very smart and capable of challenging you is great, too.  Just make sure you don't let them win at Scrabble too often.  ;)

I wrote about our struggles with a child in my last post.  Tonight, when I post a picture of us on our dinner + movie date, it will only be a tiny snapshot of a day that also included my having to talk one of our children out from under a school desk, hostage negotiator style.  We have our fair share of struggles and arguments.  Our life sometimes looks "picture perfect" on Facebook, but I can assure you that it's not. What I can tell you is that we love each other and all of our children more than life itself.  When we swore before God and man that we would belong to each other for the rest of our lives, we meant it.  On the days that we feel less than loving, we choose to love.  I wouldn't trade what we have for anything on earth.

Ben Rector's been on heavy rotation at our house lately.  As I've said on Facebook, he just seems to get me.  My current favorite of his is a song called "When I'm With You."  The chorus is "But when I'm with you I'm no longer wandering / And when I'm with you, I swear I can breathe / When I'm with you, I know who I am and who I wanna be."  That's how Will makes me feel.  I hope that all of my friends feel that either today or some day soon.

Here's to my forever Valentine.

Mental Health

I don't even know how to start this blog.  We are currently on the struggle bus.  I posted a vague request for prayer last night on Facebook.  That's not normally my style, but we are in what feels like a long season of feeling helpless and, to a lesser extent, hopeless.  One of our family members is really struggling and try as we might, we don't have the answers.  We've long kept regular therapy and psychiatric appointments.  Even though it seems like things should be improving, they are not.  

I am a firm believer in vulnerability and openness.  Honestly, trying to hide my issues never brought me anything but pain and trouble.  Here's my problem, as much as this story is something I live out daily, it's not all mine.  I am getting increasingly wary about sharing information about our kids online.  In that vein, I won't be sharing any more details about what's going on.  I can only share a little bit about how I feel.  

I am convinced now, more than ever, that the mental health system in America is in desperate need of overhaul.  Why is it so hard to get help for someone who is clearly at risk to harm themselves or others?  I understand that the movement to deinstitutionalize people with mental health issues was important and saved many people from a system that had become abusive and oppressive.  Have we gone too far in the other direction?  It seems that if a patient doesn't come in waving a loaded gun, they can't receive the help they need.  We need a happy medium.  There are so many parents out there struggling like us.  If the mental health community can't offer more than platitudes and positive reframing, we're up a creek without a paddle.  This is the field I am passionate about and want to work in, I really hope we can do better in the future.

I would like to express our love and gratitude for all of the prayers that were offered up on our behalf.  It is so comforting to know that people are standing in the gap for us.

Something's going to stick...

The restlessness is real, friends.  We've been in Omaha for six years in March (March 7th, to be exact.  I remember because it's my sister's birthday).  For a couple of nomads who enjoy living abroad, it feels like an eternity.  At the same time, it feels like it's only been a minute.  It's not that I'm dying to get out of Omaha, I just want to know what's coming next.  We're throwing anything at the wall, and seeing what sticks.  

I finished my bachelor's degree in December!  In a lot of ways, finishing that degree felt like coming up for air.  It's a silly thing. I understand that it's just a piece of paper, but it meant a lot of me.  I pursued a potential job.  Sadly, twelve years of being a stay at home mom doesn't amount to much when compared to the real work experience of other candidates.  I felt a bit dejected for a minute, but I decided that moping about wasn't productive.  In March, I'll start graduate school for clinical counseling.  The ultimate goal is to finish my clinical counseling master's degree and then go on and pursue an Ed.S or Psy.D in school psychology.  I love school.  I'm excited to be studying again.  If I had an endless amount of money, I'd take college classes for the rest of my life.  I know that's super nerdy, but I never claimed to be otherwise.  Grad school's my silver lining.  ;) 

*It has been a LONG time since I've posted in this blog.  My last post was written when the pain from Dad's death was still so very fresh and all encompassing.  We were looking for any kind of hope to cling to.  Here we are, five years later, and life has changed so much.  The pain of losing Dad isn't as raw.  It's changed, but it's still there, manifesting itself in different ways.  I'm not sure that you ever really get over the loss of someone you love so much.  We're all walking wounded, with gaping holes from the losses we've survived.  That's not to say that there isn't hope, and happiness in spite of the pain.  It's just that you learn a new happy, and joy is tinted by the pain.  We've welcomed two children  who will never know their Papa.  My Dad wasn't there to see me receive my degree.  Life just gets a bit more bittersweet when you lose people who are such a part of who you are.  I still thank God for the many blessings we've received.  

Tempered Excitement

I thought I'd post a quick update about the meeting at the adoption agency.  I was so nervous about it before I went.  I knew that I needed to make a good first impression with the case worker, because we were going to be up against competition.  I was also worried that the agency might not be a good fit for us.  I worried about what open adoption might look like to them.  Will and I both felt like the time was right and we both feel passionately about adoption, but was this the right agency for us to go through?  I left the agency feeling so excited about the future and completely comfortable with what I knew of the agency. 

First of all, I loved their case worker!  She was warm, inviting, and passionate about her job.  She was very honest about the fact that most birth mothers choose to parent, and they work hard to provide resources to help them be successful in raising their child.  I think that is so important.  I would hate to work with an organization who tried to pressure women into adoption.  She also talked about open adoption and demystified it a bit for me.  I kind of love the idea of open adoption.  We feel strongly about being open and honest with our children, and I would want to be able to answer any questions that our child would have.  Who knows what open adoption will look like for us, but I am excited about the prospects.

Now to the hard part, the agency only has four spots available for this term, and they're expecting around 20 applications.  It's a total shot in the dark, but we are praying.  Our kids are 100% on board.  Daniel still has an abstract idea of adoption, but he does understand that we would be adopting a baby, and the baby would not come from Mommy's tummy.  He understands that sometimes mommies can't take care of their baby, so they ask a different family to raise them as their own.  We wanted to make sure that the kids were okay with adopting an infant before we dropped off our application. 

Our application has been turned in, and we are in the waiting phase.  We will be interviewed the second week of February and then find out if we made the cut sometime around the middle of the month.  All we can do right now is pray.  If we are selected, we would start our home study and training in March.  The case-worker said that they could be showing new family profiles to birth moms as early as April. 

New Days

I am so grateful that God's mercies are new each morning.  I'm also grateful for growth in all of it's forms (spiritual, relational, etc).  As the first month of the year progresses, I'm feeling more hopeful about the future.  There are so many new things on the horizon. 

My resolution for this year is to work on being more disciplined.  I want to be more disciplined specifically in reading my Bible and in exercise.  So far, so good :)  I bought a One-Year chronological Bible and I haven't missed a day yet.  Reading the Bible every day is something that strengthens my faith and gives me hope.  I've been reading through Job lately and I have to say that it is a huge dose of perspective.  It's also a reminder that no matter what may come in life, God is bigger.  As far as the exercise part of my resolution goes, I'm getting back into running.  I forgot how much I really love it.  Sadly, I also forgot how clumsy I am on the treadmill!  LOL.  I fell off this morning, which marks my second time falling off since I started running (two times in two years). :)  I'm clumsy, but I'm not a quitter.  At least it gave me something to laugh about this morning.  My goal is to run six days a week for at least 2 miles each day, and build length from there.  I'd really like to run a half marathon either this year or early next year.  I'm saying all of this on my blog so I have some sort of accountability.  Now, you all know what I'm working on and I can check in regarding my goals from time to time on the blog.

The most exciting thing in our lives right now is the fact that we're looking into adoption.  My last pregnancy (Daniel) was filled with complications, so we were advised by multiple doctors that we should not try to have any more biological children.   We've felt strongly about adoption since we first started talking about our future children when we were dating, but it's something that we've been talking about more seriously for the last four years.  Tomorrow, I'll go to an informational meeting at an adoption agency, to find out about applying for a domestic infant adoption.  We're still trying to figure out how we will fund the home study and adoption, but we have faith that we will be able to find a way.   Please keep us in your prayers or wish us luck as we start the process.

Things in our family are good.  We've decided to have a weekly family game night, and it has been so much fun.  It's a good chance to unplug and really spend quality time with the kids.  We end up laughing a lot.  We also end up teaching our children how to be gracious both when they win and when they lose.  The kids are still struggling with Papa's loss in their own ways (I suppose we all are), but we have found Ted E. Bear Hollow to be a great resource for all of us.  If your kids have experienced a significant loss, I would highly recommend visiting your local Ted E. Bear Hollow.  They have some great programs. 

 






  

Auld Lang Syne and all that stuff

I don't really know where to start.  The holidays are over and I find myself both happy and sad to see them go.  I'm happy because they were a constant reminder of the gaping hole that Papa's absence has left.  I'm sad because life will slow down for a while and I'll find my mind wandering more often to him and how much I really miss being able to talk to him and tell him that I love him.  I miss his smile, his hugs, stories, and his laugh.  I'm sad because life rolls on and I am constantly wanting to check in with him.  I want to share the little things that Anna or Daniel are doing, and I can't.

One of the hardest things for me when it comes to grieving, is the fact that the world keeps spinning for everyone else while you feel like it has stopped.  After the funeral everyone else goes about their business and you're the one left trying to find your feet.  It's a lonely place to be.  It's hard to know who to go to and how much of your grief others will tolerate.  I'm grateful that I have a counselor to go to.  It helps to have someone who is paid to hear you talk about your grief.  It can be really hard to talk to friends about losing your parent.  I thought about the loneliness of it again after the massacre at Sandy Hook.  The news covered it for the better part of a week.  We (I) watched with rapt attention, crying for these children as if they were our (my) own, until the news stopped covering it.  It was so easy to slip back into our normal routine.  It was easy to push the horror out of our minds and get back to the business of living.  No doubt, the families who lost babies, young adults, and parents are still feeling their loss in a crippling way.  I can relate. How do you pick up the pieces and find your way back to the natural rhythm of life when you feel so fractured?

I always feel the need to end these blog posts with something hopeful and positive.  I am not so consumed by grief that I am unable to be happy.  I know that my open nature can be alarming to some of my friends/family, but it's an important part of who I am.  I have to have some sort of dialogue to work things out.  I'm grateful that my blog can serve as a forum for that. 

I am praying for grace, peace, and love in the new year. 

11/5 & 11/6 (No politics here)

I wanted to save yesterday's thankful post and do two in one day.  Anna is my 11/5 and Daniel is my 11/6 and I just wouldn't have enough room to write them in a Facebook status.

11/5:

I am so incredibly thankful for Anna.  She is my firstborn and she had my heart the moment I knew I was pregnant.  We got pregnant with her on the heels (less than a month) of miscarrying our twins.  Being pregnant with her gave me hope.  When she was born, we were elated!  When I held her for the first time I felt like my heart might burst because I was so overcome with love for this tiny little piece of Will and me.  For the most part, she was a pretty easy baby.  As she started talking and finding little ways to express herself we figured out that she was going to have a strong personality.  She was very smart and caught onto things quickly, but man, was she stubborn!  She still is :).  She is so smart!  I'm often taken back by her intellect and intuition.  She sees things that people don't typically notice.  I am so grateful that I can add her point-of-view to my own because it makes my world richer.  She's also an incredibly tender-hearted little girl.  Often, her intellect clouds her emotions, which makes her appear less feeling than her counterparts.  She's so type A that she loves to categorize and catalog things and it makes her seem cold about emotional things.  She's all about order and things going exactly as she's planned them out in her head.  I love that about her.  I can be so right-brained and disorganized, so we sometimes butt heads, but she's taught me to be a bit more organized.  She's also taught me so much about how I see the world and the people in it.  A little over a year ago she was diagnosed with an extreme case of ADHD.  It was something I knew, but it was still hard to deal with the diagnosis.  I learned that you can't judge a child or parent based on appearance or behavior.  I had always assumed (until I became a parent) that when children were acting out in public it was a problem of parenting.  I would silently judge the parent and assume that they could not or would not handle their own child.  It frustrated me that people would be so indulgent that their children wouldn't listen to them.  Man, was I naive.  I never even stopped to consider that the children might have a problem without some sort of physical sign.  I didn't think that maybe their parents were harried and exhausted and had to choose their battles because so many things felt like a battle with their child.  Now, we're going to have her tested for Aspergers.  The diagnoses are often confused.  She shows many signs of Aspergers and in an effort to figure out the best way to help her, we're going to visit a new psychologist who might be able to help.  One thing that I can say without reservation is that I am passionate about being able to reach Anna in any way that we can.  I (we) want to help her.  She is our independent, with deep convictions, forward and deep thinker, analyzer, loving, go against the flow little girl.  She often ends up playing alone because she doesn't want to do what everyone else feels like doing and she's not one to compromise.  She frequently gets upset that others don't want to play the way she does, but in spite of that, she continues on the path she's chosen.  It amazes me.  She's very small for her age, but she's not afraid of her larger peers.  She's fearless and spunky.  She has a beautiful soul, and I look forward to the future with her even though I know that we have our fair share of valleys ahead mixed in with the peaks.  In those rare moments when I really feel like I've made a serious connection to her, I feel fulfilled and hopeful.  She's not typically a cuddly kid, so when she chooses to sit on my lap and tell me how much she loves me, my heart soars.  How incredibly blessed I am that God chose her for me, for us. 

11/6:

I am so grateful for Daniel. He is named after my Papa and my Father-in-Law.  I will never forget the day that we told my Dad that we would name our son Daniel.  We went in for a 3D/4D ultrasound to find out the baby's gender while my parents were in town.  As soon as the technician told us that we were having a boy, we told him that Daniel would share his name.  I could tell that he was so proud.  It still makes my heart swell when I remember that moment.  It means even more now that my Papa is gone.  The pregnancy was so scary.  I had almost every complication possible and I feared for Daniel's life and my own.  I spent so much time praying and reading my Bible in hopes of getting some peace in the storm.  I found it.  I actually felt that "peace that passes all understanding."  I felt that all of the struggle in his pregnancy would be worth it, that he was going to be a special little man.  He is.  He has so much of my personality in him (God, help him).  He's very emotionally driven, he's brave, he loves to put on a show for people, he's stubborn, but he really loves to connect with people.  He's a cuddly little guy who LOVES to cuddle with Mommy.  He will walk up to me randomly and give me a kiss and tell me how much he loves me :)  When I walk into a room he's in, he lights up.  It's so sweet, and it often lifts my spirits on the days when I'm especially down.  He mentions that he misses Papa probably 50 times a day.  My response is always the same, "Me too, Daniel."  He loves so deeply, and this will always make his losses especially difficult. I know that all too well.  He adores being the class clown.  He enjoys making people laugh, but he's exceptionally hurt when he feels that people are laughing at his expense.  His sensitivity often clouds his judgement and makes him turn to vigilante justice (something we have been trying to deal with for a while now).  He's not afraid of anyone.  He's small for his age, like Anna, and it doesn't phase him for a second.  I wish I could get him to understand that he should temper his responses because there are bigger, meaner people out there who might seek to hurt him (oh, and also because violence is a bad response to anger and frustration), but he is still invincible in his own eyes.  He is my extremely loving, feeling, intelligent, humorous, out-going, and affectionate little man.  I was so afraid that I wouldn't be able to love a second child as much as Anna because I felt like there was some fixed amount of love that I had to offer.  I was wrong.  The same swell of the heart to the point where you feel it might burst from loving so much happened with him.  I found that my capacity for love was not some fixed amount.  I love him so very much.  He's my own little heart walking around on display for the world.  I am so blessed by him.  When he runs into my arms after school, my heart skips a beat.  What did I do to deserve this kind of love and joy?  He is so eager to express his love and his little body just can't contain the great amount of joy that he has.  What a miracle!

In this period of loss and mourning, I am especially grateful for my two children.  Their thoughts on loss and the joy that they feel in the midst of pain has kept me going.  My responsibility to them has kept me going each day even when I felt like wallowing in my loss.  Thanks to them, I have put one foot in front of the other even when I wanted to retreat inward.  I owe it to them to show them how to deal with great loss.  If I give up and quit pushing on, I will teach them that defeat is an option.  It's not.  Right now, they are so resilient.  I want them to know that they can continue to live their lives in that way.  There is always hope.  "Even the darkest night must end and the sun will rise."  I thank God that I have them.

Too Many Tangents

I don't really know where to begin with this one.  Let's start by saying that I feel like I've lost my mind.  I will follow that up with anecdotal evidence ;)  I took Daniel to Target this morning (one of about ten errands we had to run).  He didn't push the door close button on his side door, so I pushed it on the remote and then locked the van.  I didn't bother to watch the door close because I heard the beeps signaling that it was closing.  We shopped for about thirty minutes.  As we stepped out of the store, I noticed that there was a van (identical to mine) with both side doors open!  It took all of half a second to realize that it was MY van.  Without paying attention, I had opened the other side door instead of closing the already open one.  The car was locked, but it was wide open...this too shall pass, right?  At some point this freakish absent-mindedness has to ebb.

I have dreaded this week.  Everyone went back to work.  I miss having Will around to keep me laughing.  I also miss being able to run errands with Kim throughout the day.  It's easier to smile through discomfort when you're standing beside someone who really understands.  Baby steps...I'm working on baby steps here.

 I don't feel like I've made much progress when it comes to grieving.  I mean, I guess I could be, but sometimes progress in grief feels like moving backward.  The current feeling is something akin to being weaned off of anesthesia after a surgery.  You're fuzzy-headed, you can't really communicate, but you know that whatever they have given you for pain management is NOT doing it's job. 

I doubt that any of this is unique to me.  It's the worst right after my kids go to bed.  All day, I (we) push through to keep things semi-normal for the kids, and once they go to bed everything rushes at me (us) at warp speed (a nerdy reference, but you get the gist).  I feel bad for Will.  When the kids are tucked in bed, he is left with weepy Catherine who can't stop thinking about the fact that her Papa is gone.  I'm definitely making an effort to be normal-ish, but it can't be easy for him to deal with. 


In a strange twist, I'm starting to feel like a social cripple.  I know that with time, this ought to improve, but for the time being I am avoiding large groups of people who know me.  Is that strange?  It is difficult to deal with the questions and condolences.  It's not that I don't want to talk about it at all.  I talk to my family and close friends about it a lot.  This blog is also a healthy outlet for me right now.  But, the idea of sitting with a small or large group of people who I'm not 100% comfortable with and talking about it sends me into mini panic attacks. 

"Give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light."

I imagined this differently.  I had all of the facts.  I talked to the doctor privately to find out what was really going on all along.  I knew the prognosis, and I had done my research.  I started mourning the loss of my Papa the moment I heard the words "stage 4 lung cancer."  I knew that cancer never leaves a person or family unscathed because we went down this road with my Grandma almost exactly nine years ago.  But, here I am, a complete mess.

The loss of a parent is a completely different kind of ache.  I hurt for my loss, but I hurt so much more for my children, my Mom, my niece, and nephew.  For my children's part, they will only have faint memories of the man who loved them so much and wanted desperately to watch them grow up.  I also hurt for the loss of their innocence in a way.  They're so young to lose someone so important to them.  My nephew Khoner, actually watched Papa die.  He is only ten, and Papa served such a huge purpose in his life.  He was more like a second father than a grandfather, and that memory will probably replay in Khoner's mind for the rest of his life. What a frightening thing to endure for such a young boy.

I believe that Papa is in a better place.  He's with the twins that we lost, which makes me a little bit jealous.  He's also celebrating with my Grandma.  They loved each other so dearly, and it is a comfort to know that they are together again. 

Every day, I watched his misery.  I was helpless against the constant pain and agony he felt.  We all were.  I truly wanted what was best for him, and I told him from the beginning that I didn't want him to feel any obligation to me when it came to fighting.  I told him that when he couldn't fight any longer, I would understand.  So, I know that he's in a better place, and that is a comfort in times like this.  The problem is, he took a part of my heart with him that I know I can never replace.  I am so happy for him.  I am so unbelievably sad for me.

"Time heals all wounds."  I don't buy it.  Time might make them more bearable, but I will always miss my Papa just like I miss my Grandma.  I know that I'll get to a point where I'm not a sobbing mess, but he will always be on my heart and mind.  With my Grandma, it's an ache that catches me off guard on a daily basis.  Just a passing moment when I remember something silly or feel her loss acutely.  I know that it will be different with Papa.

Right now, I'm going through the motions, but I feel like a zombie.  It's like sleep-walking through life.  I smile when I'm supposed to, and I try to be the mother that my kids need, but it's hard.  The grief hits when I least expect it and takes my breath away.   The elephant settles down on top of my chest for what feels like an eternity.  My children don't understand what happened, so it's something that we relive multiple times a day.  I have reminded them every day since Papa died that he was a special person.  I don't ever want them to forget how extraordinary he was.  I will never forget.

I didn't write this to make people worry about me.  I wanted desperately to be honest about what all of this felt like.  I have hope.  I know that day by day, I will learn to cope a little better with the loss of my Papa.  I have an amazing husband who has been so incredibly supportive.  He has held my hand and wiped away so many tears in the last seven months.  He's taken care of the kids on the days when it was rough to get out of bed (I know those days aren't over yet).  I am so grateful to be near my Mom and extended family.  We will all make it through this, but we know the road will be long.

"Open My Hands"

I'm sorry for the blog silence lately.  I had to try to figure out how to blog now that I'm here living beside my family and dealing with the struggle firsthand.  Before, it was all so introspective because I was far away and the struggle was mostly in my head and heart.  I was sick with worry and frustrated by the fact that there was nothing I could do to help.  Now, the focus has to be on Papa and what he's going through.  


"Open My Hands" is a song that I've had on repeat for a couple of days.  It speaks so much to what my heart believes and what my head keeps struggling to remember.  I don't think that I really understood what the chorus meant at first.  I thought it sounded a little "name it and claim it " for my taste.  It took me a few times through to realize that she was saying that she's opening herself up to both joy and pain.  I can honestly say that I'm not to the point where I can nod an "emphatic" yes to both the good and the bad that may be in store.  I really want to be there, and I am truly working on it, but I feel like I cower at the idea of more pain right now.  I want to raise my hand and jump up and down like a little kid, and beg God for the good.    Dear Lord, please help me to accept every thing that You might have in store with a gracious heart.


I can't tell you how much I adore the honesty of this song. "I believe in a blessing I don't understand.  I believe in a peace that flows deeper than pain.  I believe in a fountain that will never dry, though I've thirsted and didn't have enough."  It is all so true for me.  There have been times that my soul has been so dry and weary.  By the grace of God I made it through, but there have been times where it would have been so easy to give up on God.  The blessing promised by God is one that I just can't wrap my feeble mind around.  Why does it rain on the wicked AND the just?  Sometimes we feel a little Job-like at our house.  We get such a stream of bad news or bad days, and it's easy to feel like we're being picked on.  Papa has been the one who has reminded us that there are others out there who are in situations much worse than ours.  It is so easy to focus on the rain that is currently falling on our family and make everything about how awful it is to go through this.  And it is awful.  But, in the midst of this storm, we are immeasurably blessed.

The theme/word at my parent's house for the last week or two has been "Overwhelmed."  We have been so surrounded with love and care.  Our church is constantly covering us with blessings and prayers.  People have given to our family out of both their abundance and their need.  If there was ever a time that I have felt God's love acutely through the church body, it is now, through the love and care of His believers.  We, as the church (and human beings in general), are not always good at living out our calling to love others, but our church is going above and beyond to show God's love to us.  It is indeed overwhelming.  My Father's heart has been overwhelmed by the great acts of love shown to us.  We have all been brought to tears by the love of our friends and family.  If we don't get a chance to tell you face to face, we are so blessed by each and every person who has offered up a prayer or even a positive thought on Papa's behalf.  We are touched by every Facebook comment or e-mail sent to us to affirm us or comfort us.  We could not possibly express our love and gratitude in a way that could do it any measure of justice.  Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.  We love you and we try very hard remember each of you in our prayers.  



I believe in a blessing I don't understand
I’ve seen rain fall on wicked and the just
Rain is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us

I believe in a peace that flows deeper than pain
That broken find healing in love
Pain is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us

I will open my hands, will open my heart
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I am nodding my head an emphatic yes
To all that You have for me

I believe in a fountain that will never dry
Though I've thirsted and didn't have enough
Thirst is no measure of his faithfulness
He withholds no good thing from us
No good thing from us, no good thing from us

I will open my hands, will open my heart
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I am nodding my head an emphatic yes
To all that You have for me

No good thing from us
No good thing from us
He withholds no good thing from us

I will open my hands, will open my heart
I will open my hands, will open my heart
I am nodding my head an emphatic yes
To all that You have for me

Where We're At

I apologize for the lack of posts recently.  Life is busy and chaotic, but I think we're starting to settle into our new normal.  Will is here until the middle of next week, and I hate to even think about what it will be like when he leaves.  We've put in the paperwork to get a Humanitarian Reassignment, so if you're the praying kind, please pray that the Air Force approves it quickly so Will can move to Omaha with us, soon. 

I've been sort of intentionally vague about Papa's diagnosis up until now.  I wasn't sure how much of it was out in the open.  He has lung cancer, with metastases to his brain stem, the bones in his shoulder/arm, adrenal glands and possibly one of his ribs.  The team of oncologists he's working with want to be pretty aggressive with treatment because he is young.  He started radiation on Monday.  Friday he'll go in for a Gamma Knife radiation treatment to stop the growth of the tumor in his brain stem.  It's an extremely powerful and precise type of radiation that only has to be done once (in most cases).  He'll start chemotherapy soon.  He is a long road ahead him.  We're all trying to help in any way we can.  I feel like I've asked a million times for prayers for my Papa at this point, but I will probably ask for them a million times more.  He is in a lot of pain right now, and we could really use a miracle.  When we look at all of this without God in the equation, it's scary.  We are so grateful for a loving God who has us in His hands. 

I feel like I'm getting a bit stronger emotionally.  I'm still a wreck, but I'm getting better at managing it when I'm around people (I don't have it down to a science yet, so if I run into you and fall apart, please forgive me).  There's a big difference between being 4,000 miles away and worrying and actually being here and having a chance to help out.