Nitty Gritty Dirty Grief

First Comes Love, Then comes marriage…..

Have you seen Facebook today? It is exploding with this flag:

This is the Human Rights Campaign’s push for marriage equality as the Supreme Court hears arguments today.
It really is pretty cool, history is currently being made, one way or another.
In the last year, I have developed my own opinion of love and marriage and what constitutes as a family.
I met my husband 11 years ago and fell in love- for many reasons….I liked his smile, he was funny, he talked about difficult topics, he loved me, he skied pretty darn well…. and I thought he would be a great father.
I was giddy on our wedding day. I was marrying the man I loved, we were stable, we were going to start a family, everything I had dreamed about was coming true.
And we got pregnant with Jack
And we lost Jack
And we had Samantha
And we lost Samantha
And you know what happened in the midst of all of our tragedy? I really met my husband and really got to know him.
And I really fell in love with my husband.
In the midst of planning for a family I wanted and dreamed of- I found my family.
It is a tiny family. It’s just Hubs and me and memories of our sweet babies. Do I miss what could have been?My dream of a bigger family?
Do I cherish the relationship I found?
Divorce rate for couples who have lost a child is 90%.
That’s higher than my average test score.
And yet we stay together, not for the children, not for God, not for financial comfort, not because it’s the right thing to do.
We are married because at the end of the day, we want to come home to each other. Because for all of our faults (we are so not perfect), we have found a harmony and love that works for us.
And perhaps marriage can be that simple and that easy and that hard.
As my Dad says ‘God makes ’em and they find each other’
May we all find each other, no matter who we may be and how our lives unfold……I honestly find it a miracle Hubs and I are as content as we are, given everything we have gone through. We are not the traditional family but we are our family.
Our own, private, intimate loving family. We should all have a right to that.
Nitty Gritty Dirty Grief

Zombie Apocalypse and Super Storm Bob:

I traveled to D.C this week. 24 hours before leaving I was diagnosed with a sinus infection.

There is nothing worse than flying with a sinus infection.

Except maybe a Zombie Apocalypse….which I’ll get to.

After said diagnosis, I explained to my doctor that I was flying the next day and the last time I flew with a sinus infection, I blew a blood vessel in my nose…without any Kleenex on hand and wearing a white shirt….yeah, I was that person you love to sit next to on the plane.

So she gave me a list of things I needed to be taking to fly with said infection. And I loaded myself up, and headed for the airport…..all sinusy and everything.

What is the point of a sinus? Don’t they just sound like they would be problematic? We have toes, fingers, noses and then the sinus….it just sounds like it would be an issue. SINUS

Not only was I sinusy but Super Storm Saturn was headed that direction too with the promise of dumping multiple feet of snow before the day was done.

No client is worth this.

But I boarded the plane, because I love an adventure. And my manager promised me sushi. And I love sushi as much as I love an adventure, maybe more.

“Take Sudafed before the plane takes off.” The doctor advised. Do you know that now in order to buy Sudafed, you have to fill out a form promising that you won’t turn it into meth? I had to show my id and everything. But I digress.

I plopped into the middle seat at 6:45 in the morning and quickly realized I forgot to take my pre-flight Sudafed. So I pulled it out, along with my mucinex, my antibiotics, ricola cough drops and a wad of Kleenex.

Try it sometime and see the reaction you get from your seat mates. It’s kind of funny.

The woman in the row ahead of me was talking to her daughter, “Well, say a little prayer for us. Everything is shutdown, it’s supposed to be pretty bad out there.”

Lovely, I thought, as I blew my nose. We are heading into the eye of the storm.

4 hours later we landed in the heart of Super Storm Saturn territory. I had prepared myself for the worst; feets of snow, polar bears and woolly mammoths.

It was raining.

Well, maybe it’s really icy. I thought.

Nah. It was cold, and wet but nothing worthy of a name like Saturn.

D.C had closed the Federal Government in anticipation of the storm. Do you know what happens in our Nation’s Capital when the government is closed?

Nothing. Really, the entire city was vacant. I jay-walked on M street without looking both ways. Restaurants were closed, people went home early. We found an open Starbucks with a disgruntled barista.

“You know what this is like,” I said to my manager while sipping my latte’ in the rain. “This is what it would be like if we had a Zombie Apocalypse; big cities totally deserted, a slight drizzle and a gray day. Seriously, I expect them to come up from the subway anytime now.”

My manager, who is quite used to me and my random thoughts nodded and offered me a snickerdoodle. “Zombie apocalypse?”

“And really,” I said. “Super Storm Saturn? This storm is not worthy of a planetary name. This is more like Super Storm Bob. Wow, that Snickerdoodle is really good.”

The best thing about being in D.C. during Super Storm Bob is going out for sushi because no one else is going out for sushi. We were the only one at SEI. And they gave us complimentary champagne. Maybe because they were bored or they felt bad that we were out with an impending Zombie Apocalypse; either way it was fabulous.

Today we visited our clients. It was a beautiful day in DC. The Government was open and I could no longer jaywalk on M street. Things were back to normal. When explaining to my clients how empty the city was, I stated with excitement; “The streets were empty! It was like a Zombie Apocalypse!”

To which they tilted their head, nodded slightly and were kinda quiet.

Some days it surprises me that my company lets me interact with their paying customers.

Nitty Gritty Dirty Grief

Don’t hate me for this post….

Because you might.

You know one of those posts where your rational brain says, “maybe you shouldn’t go there.”

But that other brain says, “I can’t get this off my mind?”

This is one of those posts.

Hubby and I wake up every morning to NPR. This usually means I am processing conversations between Dennis Rodman and Kim Jong Un in a dream-like, semi comatose state.

Sometimes it’s easier to take the news this way. The other day, as I hit the snooze button again, I heard about an 87 year old woman being denied CPR in her retirement home.  She collapsed on the way to lunch and stopped breathing. It was against the independent living facility to administer CPR. So the nurse did not. And the 87 year old woman died. 

I slowly woke up and listened to the news.

As move on with the lifelong process of dealing with my own grief, I have become intrigued with how we deal with death as a society and I have to say….in my humble opinion…..

It’s a tad messed up.

Here’s my thought. If I’m 87 years old and I’m going to lunch and my heart gives out, I fall to the floor and stop breathing? Please don’t try and resuscitate me. At this point in time I am old.  I hope I have lived a life I am proud of. I hope I know who you are. I hope I can make it to the bathroom on my own.

I don’t mean to be flippant about these things….this is what I really do hope. Given that I now pee a bit when I sneeze, the bathroom thing might be far fetched………I can live with some things.

Please don’t give me CPR at 87. Currently at 42? Sure fight like hell for me. At 87? Nah. I only have a 5-10% chance of survival and my recovery would never be the same. I don’t want to be hooked up to some machine At most, I might have had a couple more years. At 87, I think I would be good with moving on.

Please don’t say things like my daughter must be heartless and cold for being okay that the nurse didn’t do CPR. You do not know me, you do not know my daughter. Well in my case, you do know my daughter, you know where she must be and that I am thrilled to follow her.

I find it ironic that young people die in horrible situations everyday, situations that could have been prevented and this is our focus. Is it because it sheds a light on our own vulnerability as we age? That people won’t do all they can do for us as we age? And when is it relevant to do everything? Or to not? 

When is it okay to die?

Perhaps I am missing something. Either way, the story makes me sad…..sad for the family, the nurse, and anyone in contact with this story. Maybe it will start a dialogue about when it’s okay and not okay to move on and let a life be a life. 

Because I just sneezed.