A Challenging Week

What a week. I started writing a post at the beginning of the week asking for prayers because re-acclimating to being at home for the girls had become *quite* a challenge. Emerging  tweenage attitudes, ungratefulness, anger, arguing. There were LOTS of emotions running wild as we tried to settle into the regular routine. Maybe some of it is normal, but in the midst of it, all I could think (a recurring theme these days for me) is how am I supposed to do this alone? They NEED his voice. They NEED Bill to calm the wave of emotions. They always responded to differently to him. I think my voice is often like the adults in Charlie Brown “Whaa, whaa, whaa, whaa.” But not Bill’s. They responded so differently to him. His voice was deep and loving. It didn’t take many words from him for them to turn themselves around. And now his voice is missing. I know that part of it is “normal” for their ages. Kaleigh approaching the tween years, Leah just being the middle child, and Zoey trying to find that independence as the youngest… and just plain being four.  I also know that they sense how tired I am. That maybe I don’t have the energy to pick as many battles as I used to. I don’t know.

On Sunday my friend told Kaleigh she had a surprise for her coming. Kaleigh’s immediate response was, “Is it Daddy!?” I honestly didn’t know what to do. I could halfway see Zoey asking a question like that, but Kaleigh? And the thing is, there was this hopeful tone in her voice… like this part of her deep inside thought maybe we would tell her everything that’s happened over the last few months was a bad dream. I don’t know. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I gave her a kiss and told her that I’d give anything if that could be the surprise, but she knew that it wasn’t possible.  And that If Daddy could be here he would be here. It’s all he wanted. She hung her head and said she knew, but it was such a heartbreaking moment.

And the thing is, there’s a part of me that gets it. I still expect him to walk through the door sometimes. I still imagine that he’s in Boston and that he’ll be home soon. My brain can’t seem to grasp that he’s gone. That this is our new life. I have moments where I wonder if the physical distance over the last 18 months of his life makes this whole process harder or easier. There were plenty of days where I was single-momming it while he was in the hospital. So in theory maybe that part should be easier. But because of that, I feel like the reality of him being gone maybe taking longer to really believe. Because it still feels like he’s just in Boston.

But then there are these moments where I “see” him. The other day Kaleigh flashed me this look, and it was Bill. She has his eyes- beautiful blue-green with the longest lashes you could imagine… and for a second it was like I was looking at him. I got a little teary and she knew immediately what had happened. “I reminded you of Daddy, didn’t I?” She’s definitely in a phase of trying to find how she’s similar to Bill. She’s trying out her “sarcasm wings” which doesn’t always go over so well, but I understand that she’s trying to connect with a trait she’s heard (and experienced) about him.

While I was in Arizona I continued to read this parenting book that I got to try to help me parent Leah more effectively. She has always been our really challenging one. Lots of emotional outbursts and lashing out, but so incredibly sweet at other times. Most of the traditional parenting “techniques” have proven to be ineffective with her, and I feel like a lot of the suggestions in this book have been helpful so far. One of the recommendations was using puppets to talk about concerns or worries. This wasn’t a new strategy for us because the first time Bill went to Boston we got Leah to talk to him by using a stuffed animal she and her sisters had sent with him, but it’s one I hadn’t thought about in a while.  She and I were playing My Little Pony, and I decided to use some of the millions of ponies we have in the house to see if she’d open up.  She told the pony all about how her dad had died, and that he’d been buried. She told the pony that she was sad and that she missed his snuggles and his goatee. She said she was happy that he was in Heaven and that she loved him so much. There were so many other things she opened up about as we played, I was really stunned. For the first time in almost two years I felt like I was beginning to understand where her heart was with everything that’s happened. It was heartbreaking, but also such a blessing to be able to get some insight into her mind. (I think I mentioned before that she’s a tough read. I often call her the “black hole of information.” So I feel like this was a really positive step for her. )

I’m happy to report that for as challenging as the beginning of the week was, the end of the week turned itself around. Swim meets, a wedding, swim lessons, a birthday party, and pool play dates filled the days and seemed to get the kids distracted and/or engaged enough in “regular” life to help the attitudes and behavior. We are so blessed to have people who love these girls (and me) regardless of the hiccups in their behavior.  I will say we are getting ready for another trip, so I would just ask that you continue to pray for the transitions to be smooth and that the behavior is normal and not the crazy stuff that was happening earlier this week. Thanks, friends. 

Reading after her swim events. She is Bill Plowden's daughter for sure. 

Anniversary Trip to Arizona

How do you summarize six days on an adventure with one of your oldest friends to “celebrate” what  would have been our anniversary? To say the trip was bittersweet is an understatement. To say that it is an experience I will cherish is also an understatement.  We had so many beautiful moments together, Carmen and I. A lot of them planned, but so many of them spontaneous.  Of course, there was the amazing hot air balloon ride in Sedona. I thought I was going to be terrified, but there was something so calming and beautiful about floating in the air above the breathtaking red rocks. Pictures just don’t do it justice. We were with other people in the basket, but there were still moments of quiet and peace-something that I’ve been lacking for a long time.

Balloon Ride in Sedona. At our max we were 3,000 feet up. Simply amazing!

Sunrise over Sedona

Then there was the hike to the Kachina Woman rock formation in Boyton Canyon- where there is said to be an energy vortex. As we were getting ourselves ready to hike up, a man named Robert approached us with rocks he had carved into hearts. He gave one to each of us and said he wanted to spread the love of “Mother Earth” to everyone. I’d been told that there were lots of “hippies” in Sedona, and that you just never knew what you were going to see. Nonetheless, given the fact that I was there for me and for Bill, the gesture was very meaningful. (Now, Bill would have been rolling his eyes, but I also think he would have recognized the kindness behind Robert’s gift too.)

Robert's Hearts. 

Carmen asked him if he had just finished his hike, and he said he was actually just starting and that he was going to play his instrument - some kind of Native American flute- when he got to the top. As we started hiking, we heard him playing. Every so often he would stop and introduce another song, “this one is for love”, “this one is for letting go,” etc… It was like he provided the perfect soundtrack as we made our way to the top. And again, I could just HEAR Bill’s voice and all of the things he would have said about it, but at the same time, the combination of the landscape, the flute, and Bill’s “voice” made the experience almost perfect. Once we got to the top we sat and listened for a long time. Another one of those much needed peaceful moments for me.

Next, we headed to the Grand Canyon. What more can I say, other than simply unbelievable? The vastness and the beauty is nothing short of amazing. Again, the pictures just don’t do it justice. One of the days Carmen and I hiked in a little ways, and although I recognize just how small we humans really are, being “inside” for even just a little distance made it even more real. Carmen was careful to give me some time on the 14^th to have some time to myself. I got up early so I could watch the sunrise over the Canyon. Again, one of those quiet moments where I watched this beautiful landscape in front of me and talked to Bill in my heart. I prayed a little, and really tried to take in the moment.  It was so bittersweet. Surrounded by all of these beautiful things, but still empty in so many ways because I couldn’t share it with my person- with Bill.

View outside our cabin

Later that day we had a thunderstorm and then not long after, a double rainbow appeared over the Canyon right outside our cabin window. I was trying not to make too big of a deal about it, but in so many ways, a double rainbow over the Grand Canyon was this magical, beautiful anniversary gift- one that I will never forget.

Happy Anniversary

When I left on the trip so many people had prayed and had hoped that I would find healing and rest. I’m not sure about the healing part, but the trip definitely gave me some moments where I could breathe. Where I didn’t have to run at such a fast pace. It gave my brain some time to start to process the last two years. Until this trip I hadn’t really dreamed about Bill. I had been hoping to for a long time. Just to be able to see him and to have him talk to me again- even if it wasn’t real. To for a moment feel close to him again. The dreams I had on this trip weren’t like that, but maybe one day they will be.

When I got home, someone had left beautiful flowers on the doorstep with a note that said “Happy Anniversary. Heaven has flowers too.” There was no name, but again, it was such a lovely gift to come home to. (So to whomever put them there, thank you.)

And now that I am home, having had a taste of rest, I am going to try really hard to try to find a little bit of breathing room in our hectic schedule. I realize how important it is for me and for our girls. For those of you who have been praying for us, if you could pray for that too. Thanks, friends. 

5 months later...

It’s been almost 4 months since my last post. I've had a lot of people ask me to continue writing about the goings on of our family- especially people who aren't Facebook. For those of you who have been asking, I’m sorry it has taken me this long. Things have been really busy- managing both Bill and my grandmother’s affairs, (I was her executor just just before Bill was diagnosed the second time), working, taking care of the kids, etc... I can't really put into words all of the things we have been processing over the last 5 months. The girls and I miss Bill every second of the day. Each one of us in our own way. Every once in a while Zoey will still ask if we can go to Target and “buy a new Daddy-“ which was a question that was really,  really hard for me at first because what she is really asking (and has been since just after he passed away) is, “Mama, how can we get Daddy back?” Her 4 year old understanding of how life works is that if something is broken or gone, we can just go to Target and replace it. To be honest, every time she asked the question in the beginning, it was like a knife in my heart. Because as an adult I know full well that there is no way to replace Bill. Ever.

Over time, that specific question has been replaced with her fleeting memories of Bill. Things like, “Remember when Daddy and I shared his pizza?”   Or on July 4th, “Mama, I remember how Daddy kept me safe last year during the fireworks.” These are the memories of Bill I want to foster- the ones where he protected her and loved her. Because that’s who Bill was. A fiercely protective and loving father.

I think because Kaleigh had more time with him, she will always know this about him. We often talk about how hard he fought to be able to stay here and be with us. She knows he did everything in his power to be here. Frequently throughout the day she will tell me how much she misses him, and I will tell her I feel the same way. I think she gets a sense of security from knowing she isn't the “only one”. She will often say “Mama, I hope it doesn't hurt your feelings, but you know Daddy is my favorite.”
And I always reassure her that I understand because he is my favorite too. It’s so hard to navigate this part because she and Bill were two peas in a pod. She is so incredibly like him that I often don’t know if I am capable of filling that void. (Which- let’s be honest- there is no way I can really do that anyway. I can do the best I can, but I'm never going to be able to compensate for losing her daddy- her favorite person.)

And then there is precious Leah. Our sweet middle child. She has had such a hard time over the last two years. She is the one I worry about the most. Vague memories of her daddy who loved her so, but also a life filled with uncertainty (When is daddy coming home? When will mama have to go back to Boston?) She has always been our introspective child. Rarely willing to share what's on her mind- especially when it comes to Bill. When she does, I make sure to pay attention. The other day she was feeling really sick and she said, I really wish daddy was here to hold my hand. It broke my heart. She knows-even though she rarely expresses it- that Daddy would try to make her feel better. That he loved her and that he would be there for her if he could.

You might be asking yourself why after almost 5 months of “blog silence” I have decided to start writing again. There are many reasons like the encouragement from people who have asked me to start again, for myself so I can share stories of our family, and I think most importantly for the girls later on down the road -to give them a way to remember this part of our story. I was looking back at all of the texts Bill and I sent back and forth to each other, and in most of them, he called the girls “sweet peas,” so I thought it would be a good  title.

Over the last few months I have tried to sit down and do this, but today seems a fitting day to begin this next part of “my journey.” You see, today is our anniversary. 14 years ago Bill and I made vows to each other to love and cherish one another for the rest of our lives. It was a day I could not wait for. It was the day that signified the beginning of my new life with the man who I loved more than any other person on the planet. The man who made me laugh like no other. The man who intentionally pushed my buttons until I thought I would go mad- which made me love him all the more. The man
who I wanted to have my family with. The man who I wanted to grow old with.

Today is the day that we promised to stand by one another in sickness and in health. Something that we came to understand more deeply than we ever anticipated. Our lives were taken down a road that I will never understand. But one thing I will know for sure  is that being Bill Plowden’s wife, and being able to love him through his illness will always be the greatest honor of my life. He and our precious children are the greatest gifts I could ever be given.

For those of you on Facebook, you know I am out in Arizona with one of my childhood friends. I started thinking about this day, and I realized that for so much of the past two years I had to choose between being “wife” and “mother.” Most of the time Bill insisted that I be “mom” so that the girls would have more stability. I wouldn't change the decisions we made, but one of my biggest regrets is that I couldn't be with him when he died. I wanted to be there and hold his hand. I wanted him to feel my hands and kisses. I wanted him to hear my voice in his ear telling him I loved him- not just th rough the phone.

As I thought about today, I decided that I wanted to be “wife”. I wanted to do something that would honor the life that Bill and I had planned. He was born here in Arizona and we had always said we would come out here to the Grand Canyon. So here I am with a friend who I've known since I was 3- a friend who Bill always said “grounded me.” We are hiking, and laughing, and crying, and singing, and spending time reflecting on the life Bill and I had made together. On the life we thought we were supposed to have together. We are also doing things I never thought I’d do like riding in a hot air balloon in Sedona- trying to make new memories.

My hope is that this trip will give me the break that I have needed to try to start processing things without the distraction of every day life. I still have about a hundred moments throughout the day when I think “I can't wait to tell Bill.” And then I remember. I think I’ll i want to tell Bill.  And I think that's ok. I’m hoping that over time the emptiness that I constantly feel will change into something else- I'm not sure what yet, but I know that Bill wanted me (and our girls) to have full lives, and I am endeavoring to do that.

I have so many other things to say about what's been going on, but I want to end for now with thanking you all for all of the prayers, love, and support you've shown us over the past two years. And especially thanking my aunt and uncle for taking the girls this week so I can be here, and thanking Carmen and her husband for rearranging their schedules to make this week happen for me. You guys are amazing.

Happy anniversary Babe, I love you.