Just Me and Trigger

It's strange how songs that aren't even directly associated with your loved ones can bring up triggers. I was driving to work yesterday and really felt this pull to listen to an Eddie from Ohio song. Well, actually, it's a Lyle Lovett song but I love the EFO cover. I wish I could find an EFO version on You Tube but this will have to do.

First of all, If I Had a Boat is just a great song. It's catchy with a great hook. It's what songwriting is supposed to be.

Anyway, by the end of the tune, I was sobbing. It took me a little while to figure out why. I never really listened to it with Charlotte. It's not about a little girl or a butterfly or a kid who dies. Those would be obvious triggers, wouldn't they?

If you have ever listened to the live EFO cover (on the Portable EFO Show, just in case you're curious), Robbie Schaefer shares that the origin of this song is about a conversation with a kid. Lyle asked him what he wanted more than anything else. And the kid said, "A boat. And a pony." And the rest is history.

So when I listen to this song, it always reflects the innocence of childhood. Sometimes it's hard to think about how that innocence can be taken away on so many levels. I thought about how Charlotte's innocence was destroyed. How her childhood was taken away from her. I also think about how our innocence as parents was also destroyed. Sometimes you just feel like there's a huge pot of "That's Not Fair" brewing on your stove. I think about that a lot when I'm in my "angry phase" of grief. Then I thought about Kiddo and how her early experiences have shattered her childhood in so many ways. She is healing and I love that we can give her a sense of comfort and stability, but it's all just so wrong. Kids should be able to be kids as long as they possibly can.

I also think about the Thestrals in Harry Potter. Those were the mythical beasts towing the carriages at Hogwarts that could only be seen by those who had experienced tragedy and grief. It really is true. Grief allows you (forces you) to see things differently.

We are often forced to face down our worst fears. The most resilient face the dragons head on, but they still rely on friends and family for comfort, security, and assistance.

Sometimes our grief just gives us perspective. Sometimes it's triggered in the most unlikely of ways.

The Edge of Seventeen

It's that time of year when the blog musings center on my grief journey. Every year, it seems like we are busy with end-of-the-year school activities and the start of summer, planning vacations, and then (kablam)...it's almost July 9. Grief is funny. Grief is weird. I remember very early after Charlotte died, I watched the movie Rabbit Hole. There's an amazingly poignant scene where Nicole Kidman's character is talking with another woman who lost a child over 10 years before (played by Dianne Wiest). She talks about grief being like a brick in your pocket. It never goes away. Sometimes you can even forget it's there. But it comes back and makes its presence known from time to time. And (she says) "it's what you have of them." I probably did not fully realize then what a powerful and true analogy that is. As time goes on, our grief changes. Yet, it is always there on the edge of things. It sits in that pocket and sometimes makes itself known. This...

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I think about Charlotte every single day. However, this time of year, I'm flooded with all kinds of memories as we commemorate the anniversary of her birth. This year feels like a bit of a milestone. Sixteen. If cancer had not taken her life back in 2010, I have a feeling I would be planning a massive birthday celebration this year. 16 always feels like a landmark year in someone's life. I have been thinking a great deal about the last birthday party we had for Charlotte in 2009. We didn't know it at the time, but we were halfway through her treatment journey. We had been through three major brain surgeries and a few rounds of inpatient chemotherapy. Treatments were not going well. In fact, right after her birthday, we would make the trip to Houston, Texas where we would settle in for about 10 weeks of proton beam radiation treatments and a new customized chemotherapy protocol. This was the unspoken "last chance option" to beat that aggressive brain tumor into ...

It's a (not quite) Jolly Holiday

I was sitting in a doctor's office waiting room a few weeks ago. While I waited, another patient came out into the reception area to make her next appointment. The receptionist offered a few dates, including one on a Saturday. The woman (I have no idea who she was; let's call her Maude) originally said yes to the Saturday date. Then the following conversation ensued: Maude: Wait! Is that Mother's Day weekend? Receptionist: Hmm. You know what? I'm not sure. When is Mother's Day? Maude: You don't know? Receptionist: (nervous laugh) Well, I guess I should know this.... Maude: Are you a mother? Receptionist: No. Maude: But...you have a mother, right? You should know these things! At this point, I was incensed with "Maude". This woman knew nothing about the receptionist. She could have recently lost a child. She could have been struggling with infertility. She could have had a mother who recently died. Or she could have a strained or just very compli...

I See What You Meme

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