The things people say to me.  
"My husband just went back on the road and now he's only home one day a month and it's all up to me!  It's just so hard!!"  
"Oh, it's harvest now so I'll be a widow until all the crops are out."  
Sigh.  They mean nothing by such things; I know that.  I still can't be held responsible for the myriad of looks that probably pass over my face.  Fielding these comments is cake.  They happen, I feel the stab of "you have no idea what you're saying", and then they are over.  The snark in me wants them to reflect on the ignorance of their comment later... I know they probably won't.  I said something really horrible to Aaron one night.  He was going through treatments and working... I was giving baths to cranky kids... he wasn't helping... I yelled something to the tune of, "It sure sucks feeling like a single parent!"
Wow.  How ugly.  If I had known then.  
That may be the thing.  People say these things and they don't realize that it could be reality.  I certainly didn't.  
The worst thing I field?  The questions from my son.  My daughter talks about the gross next to never.  My son is a different story.  Tonight, the subject of a person's last days came up in the car ride home.  His innocent, fact-seeking questions bring memories back in a swift stab.  His way of speaking about it all is so matter of fact.  It's just information to him.  Not to Aubrey or me.  That's my person you're talking about.  Those are the worst hours of my life you want the details on.  But I owe you the answers.  
Today was full of emotion anyway.  The son is displaying his strong-willed nature at school and it's being driven home how it's on me.  How do I want to handle it?  What do I want to do next?  It's all on me.  There is no deferring.  There is no magic discussion to have.  It's me.  I should ask the woman whose husband is driving thirty days a month.  Maybe she has some ideas.  

We've all seen the graphic about what you'll look back on in your last days and the clarity you'll find about what was important.  It's not the job, it's not the house, it's not the vacations, it's the relationships.  My absolute biggest fear is regret, lost opportunity, not living with an open heart, letting things pass me by.  I remember the day that my shift happened.  I was standing in our tiny hallway between the bedroom and the dining room and suddenly nothing mattered except people.  Not the house, not the pay day, not what was for dinner, not who I was upset with... nothing.  My mind could hold onto nothing except for people.  Being present.  Time.  Everything instantly became more precious.  I became a bit desperate to document  moments.  To cherish the little stuff.  To make everyday into more of an event.  Suddenly I had zero tolerance for things getting in the way of what (to me) was really important.  Reasons became excuses in many cases.  My perspective completely shifted.  I'd like to think that people have always been my center.  Finding time to visit my grandparents was a priority.  Who I was with always trumped what I was doing.  I think that has been magnified.  I'm well aware that this isn't the norm, but that doesn't keep me from assuming people will come around to my way of thinking.  I'm getting better and better at letting go of the frustrations I feel when I (in my infinite wisdom-- insert eyeroll here) witness someone making what, to me, is the wrong choice.  Letting an opportunity pass them by.  I'm such a hypocrite.  I want to say that it doesn't matter to me what people choose, do what makes you happy, but that's not what my heart believes until several hours later.  Often times, I'll come around and let go of the frustration I feel at watching someone else pass something up, but I really need to not even worry about it at all.  I'm coming to accept what my predecessor would say all the time, "different strokes for different folks."  I need to accept that.  I need to adapt her catch and release mentality of letting people make their own decisions and not getting caught up in it myself.  I'm still such a hussy though-- thinking I know what's best for others all the time.  At least I can acknowledge that and laugh at myself.  I'm positive I do things that others think is ridiculous.  Here's my aimed-for center though: people first.  Will this matter in five years?  Will I be happy with this decision in five years?  Does this have eternal vision?  Does this benefit me and those I love?  Does this hurt anyone?  Does this line up with the Word?  
Gosh, I mess up all the time.  I'm positive, even typing this, that I screw this very goal up on a regular basis.  Even today, I'm passing up some people because I have deemed for me that the activity is "too hard" for me to put myself through and I need to protect myself from the emotions.  Grace.  Thank God for grace.  It's kinda wild when you suddenly see all the judgement you've passed on others and realize you deserve it too.  

Pace yourself.  That seems to be the mantra.  It's a new year.  Fresh days, fresh calendar, new goals, a clean outlook.  If I've observed anything about myself clearly post-loss, it's that my emotions and thoughts seem much more turbulent than they did before.  I'm female, so they've never been completely concrete, but now they are downright drifty.  Today's subconscious thoughts have been very sporadically looking forward, which I'm not a huge fan of.  I'd rather breathe deeply, look around, smell the roses, focus on the tasks at hand... today, my brain isn't allowing it.  It's almost like a mental race to see the five year plan.  I have to just shake my head at myself because this line of thinking hasn't been attempted in a long stinkin' time.  When you've had the rug pulled out from under you, I think some things become instinctual.
1. You to try to nail things down and eliminate variables.  Give me yes or no.
2. You close off items from your life that might cause you stress; you don't need more of that.
3. You stop looking too far down the road.  If today might be hard, how can you possibly think about next year?
There are certainly other traits that I know came to me with loss, but these instincts distinctly belong to loss.  I'm looking at my kids this week though and it's clicking that I've been present for most every day of the last three years and I may have been going through the motions more than I'd realized.  I knew I was checked out in some regards--  not unpacking my house, not completing basic tasks, adding in naps, no accountability.  I thought I was super-present for my kids though.  Clean clothes, meals, time with them, taking them to and from...  If I had to bet on myself, I think I carried it off.  I don't believe they noticed.  I'm only starting to.  That's definitely been an eye-opener.  They say that time raising your kids goes fast.  Yes, it sure does.  Especially when you suddenly realize you don't clearly remember most of it.  All I can do it move forward.  
After Caleb, we took our kids to Disney World.  Aaron really thought they needed that happy to drown out the bad.  We went to the Finding Nemo exhibit (now might be a good time to mention that I hate that movie).  That blasted thing had me in tears in no time, sobbing along as Dori sings "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming!"  It's become a theme of sorts in my life, popping into my head unbidden at random times.  No matter how much I feel I may have missed out on due to just existing, what has to matter is that I didn't completely check out.  I got stuff done. I took care of those babies.  I have been mother and father to them.  They haven't stood in a place of want.  I still have today and tomorrow and the next day to be checked in and to start fresh.  It's a new year.  The beauty of having new opportunities and chances doesn't diminish as long as there is hope.  In the present though, I need to keep chanting to breathe.  Take it one day at a time.  Don't get ahead of yourself.  This current state of my mind to fast-forward won't last long, of that I'm fairly confident.  What positive I do see in it though is that it's almost like a return to the living.  Making plans and thinking about the future are things I've avoided.  Even building the house... that was a decision made long ago that I just had to walk out (and it came with it's own set of breakdowns).  Otherwise, no big plans have been mapped out since 2010.  Wow.  That's kinda sobering.  Pace yourself.  This isn't a sprint.