Tuesday, December 30, 2014

[it's almost 2015]

The morning was spent budgeting (double ick), organizing the pantry (ick), menu planning (a little less ick), and baking a delicious Texas Sheet Cake with the Goose (not at all ick!).

Since Saturday evening, Grammy has been feeling progressively more yucky, so when she asked to go to the dr. today, Luke jumped on the chance.  They're there now.  Haven't heard what it is that's ailing her.  My guess is it's the same gomboo that plagued McKayslin and I for the past week.  Luke seems to have held out on the sickness.  Hopefully he won't get hit right before he has to go back to work...

The house is very quiet right now.  Almost too quiet.

The morning was filled with lots of discussion, a little wondering, and a whole lot of thinking.  That, combined with the now quiet, has my brain kicked into overdrive and my freak out mode in full force.  

This afternoon, Luke and the girls will do a drive by to see Kenton (with a wind chill of well below zero, a drive by will have to do - sorry little buddy!).  I will do a drive by when I head down to school to pick up a few things to work on.  Need to get my phonics lessons planned and prepped and caught up before Monday hits.  And homework for the next couple of weeks.  And perhaps a couple of sets of emergency sub plans depending on what our friend Shauna might need.

The tree will come down this afternoon.  Or tomorrow depending on how things go at the dr. with Grammy.  And with that, we've survived our 2nd Christmas without Kenton.

Tomorrow is New Year's Eve.  Our traditional three gifts should bring laughs and fun and memories (which will bring some sadness, some tears, and a whole lot of missing our boy).  We'll light fireworks at the cemetery at midnight, and come home for sprinkle filled pancakes with whipped cream.  

And just like that, 2015 will be here.  The 2nd year to start without our boy.  On the 22nd, we'll mark 2 years that Kenton has been gone.

I think of that, and I wonder - are you proud of us, Bubs?  Do you miss us as much as we miss you?  Do you think of us as often as we think of you?  

And I wonder how we've made it almost two full years without that smile, those hugs, that laugh, and all that love.  Or how we'll make it another year...

Monday, December 29, 2014

[a mess]

Christmas is over.

McKayslin's birthday is over.

New Year's Eve is in 2 days.

All of this wraps up into one big huge emotional mess of a time of year.  

Try as I may, I can not, just can't, make it work.  

I can't juggle the emotions of everyone in this house while I attempt to juggle my own.

I can't put on a smile and go out in public and pretend that my broken heart isn't.

I can't spend too much time with the people I love because their sadness echoes my own so deeply that soon we're all just lost in the sad.

So our days consist of reading.  TV.  Computer time.  Tablet time.  Cooking.  Eating.  And lots of time in separate rooms away from each other.

It certainly doesn't help that McKayslin and I both caught some awesome bug last weekend.  And that she missed the last 2 days of school.  Or that I still am not feeling well.  And Grammy is now sick. 

It doesn't help that today for dinner I made ham and beans - the one meal Kenton requested I make for him when he was finally better and didn't get to make for him at all.

It most definitely doesn't help that our house still looks like Christmas threw up all over because no one has the emotional energy to take it all down and put it all away.

Today, Luke and I went on a date.  
Mostly to get the things on our list, plus the traditional 3 gifts of New Year's Eve.
It's hard.
The memories.
The emotions.
The knowing Kenton doesn't get to do any of this with us anymore.

Taking pictures, knowing that I won't ever have any new ones of him.
Looking at old pictures, wishing I'd taken more.
Wishing I'd written the memories of the pictures.
Catching up on some scrapbooking.
Heart ripped out of my chest and lying in shards on the floor with each page.

Wondering if the new year will bring an added measure of peace that we so desperately seek.  Knowing that the peace will come, but praying that it stays.  That it heals.

And just so many other things that are so illogical and unreasonable that I can't even make myself say them out loud...

Feeling like my best will never ever be good enough again.