Sunday, July 27, 2014

[facing the crazy]

Some days (weeks, months, years??) I find myself in a whirlpool of crazy that doesn't seem to have an exit.  A whirlpool of sad, and scared, and angry, and alone.  When I hit the center of that whirlpool, spinning in dizzying circles of grief and anger and loneliness, I'm not myself.  I'm just an awfully confused person trying to figure out whether it's safer to ride out the whirlpool or shut this crazy down as quickly as possible.

Yesterday, particularly, was one of those days.

I felt the whirlpool begin last Sunday morning, and throughout the week, the tug and pull and dark just kept getting stronger, darker, scarier.  

After Jason's funeral yesterday, I just had nothing left with which to fight.  I was done.  Ready to come home, succumb to the crazy and just ride it out at home in my pajamas with a healthy dose of Diet Coke and chocolate, knowing that today I wouldn't feel much better, but not knowing what else to do.

And then Luke said that Taylor's game had been moved from 11 to 2.  It was 1:30...and we needed to eat lunch.  After a few texts from Cia, and a very kind offering from President, and a delicious lunch at Juniper Take Out, we found ourselves on the benches at Logan High watching Taylor play.  And just like that, I realized, again, that it takes friends to hold me up when I face the crazy.

It was a good game.  The sun was shining.  McKayslin loved being there with Dani and Cameron and President and Cia and watching her biggest brother play ball.  I loved being there with friends that just stand with us as the crazy rolls on through - no judgment, no backing down, no expectations.  (And now, dang it, my good make-up day was just ruined as the tears course down my cheeks yet again!).

Did I mention that the sun was shining?  It was a very warm day.  I loved it.  Everyone else said it was so very hot.  Nothing quite like baking your brains out on metal bleachers watching baseball.  :)

After the game, we headed home.  Our plans for home were interrupted by another text (and then a phone call, ha, ha!) insisting that we come boating...

I hate water.  Let me clarify... I HATE WATER! I'm terrified of being in large open bodies of water.  McKayslin, not so much.  Luke, maybe a little bit.  But our Acevedo family was pretty insistent, and within the hour we were on the lake.  
McKayslin loved being on the water.  In the water.  She jumped in and swam around and loved being loved by her other family.  Her safe place.

I loved watching the tenderness and care that those big boys use with her.  They tease her like crazy, but every once in a while, when they think no one is watching, there's a hand on a shoulder, a gentle smile, and sometimes even a hug.  

I'm sure it's frustrating altering plans and the normal way of doing things to accommodate other people.  I know it is.  But not once in the whole day with our Acevedo family, did we feel that we were frustrating to them.

Bubs would have loved yesterday.  He would have loved being there to show love and support for our dear Wiberg friends as they said good-bye to Jason, because Kenton KNEW and understood the Plan of Salvation.  

He would have loved cheering for Tay. Because watching baseball is almost as good as playing baseball!

And he absolutely would have LOVED being on the water!!  Some of my favorite pictures of Kenton are from his one and only scout camp (circa 2011) down at Peterson Beach.  He spent nearly the whole camp in the water...

But most of all, just like the rest of us, he would have loved being with his Acevedo family.  His safe place.  

Oh how we miss our boy!

We came home, just a little more pink than we started the day, but in a whole lot better place.  The night came, and we slept.  Soundly.  Well.  Not haunted by the whirlpool that only 12 hours earlier had threatened to shatter me.

This morning, I woke up, laced up my shoes, and headed up to see my boy.  I love Sunday morning sunrises with Kenton.  I love spending time up there, feeling him close.  Talking to him.  There are always tears.  But sometimes there are smiles, too.

This morning the tears were sad tears, missing Kenton tears, but they were also tears of gratitude.  

Gratitude for friends that step into the crazy and face it with me.  
I have many that do.  
I am so blessed.

1 comment:

Cathy Peterson said...

Love you:-) the healing process doesn't have a time limit. I'm glad that you allow yourself that time.