My light, my hope, my loves

HAPPY EASTER!!!!!!!

Well at least to a certain 10 year old boy, the bunny was very good to him as usual.. ;)
Up before the sun his brother put out the basket and his sister last night after he went to bed hid all the eggs, inside, rain and all. I could not make this journey to me without acknowledging them. Cody, Chelsea and Connor. They have been my driving force beyond self preservation for more than half my life. Everything I've done and will do. Even eventually finding new love will be for them. If mom is happy and settled then they do not need to worry. It will happen someday, I'm working on it, slowly. Still water runs deep..

Now as for my acknowledging my children let me tell you about them, share the workings of these pieces of me and of their late father. Shards of brilliance shining in the sun when they allow. Cody and Chelsea are really guarded, rightfully, and Connor is full in your face sunshine, he's a happy child in a sea of despair around him, all his life. Working on keeping him like that, is what I try to do, because sunshine feels so much better. So onward with my thoughts and descriptions of my better parts of my life.

Cody, like I had said in my first blog, is my first born, pushed into the world on a Sunday December morning. It was pure joy to have that perfect face look up to me. Head full of blonde hair, eyes bright and observing. He was a quiet baby, hardly cried at all. The easy first child that fools you into thinking this is a great tasting piece of cake and want more. He was a big baby, my biggest, 9lbs 10 oz, 21 inches long, perfect in my eyes from first site. He had broke his collar bone to his right side being born, but no one picked that up til his two week check up, never favored the arm, never seemed to notice any pain. I had only 3 weeks to bond with this child until I had to return to work, but who needed 3 weeks when like I said I swore I'd never let him go or hurt his tender heart ever, from that first moment of silence, peace and love when they placed him in my arms. He grew to be a child that took everything in, thought about it, processed it, and either let it go or made it his. He loved music early, movies he chose the horror (must of got that from his dad), loved stories to be read, and playing with his action figures. A love he would carry even to now. He walked really before any of my other children, was 9 months old and took off, never looking back. When he was three I noticed while he was sleeping that his little chest was rising, but no air was going in, panic hit, then he'd gasp, snore and continue on sleeping and breathing. This little boy had hardly ever been sick, never needed a doctor besides check ups, was now being seen by a pedi ENT, had 55%of his airway blocked by his tonsils and adenoids. Surgery was a breeze, but his reaction to this new pain was very frightening, for him and for me. The only time this child had ever tested my patience was when I was trying to help his pain. I still feel his pain, raw and burning, and how his little heart raced, you never forget that. He of course healed and really never complained of pain from that day forth, never remember him even complaining of headaches, body aches or the likes. He internalizes pain, a lot like his dad did. He did well early in school, learned to read before most and was asked when in 1st grade to come back to his old kindergarten class to read to them, to show it can be done. He could write wonderful stories and tell them with a flare. He had a huge talent for this, an area his dad and I wanted him to go into. He however lost his desire for awhile to write. When he started middle school, the disservice I did was move him away from the kids he grew up with in elementary, went to a new school where he knew no one. He stood out like a sore thumb. Blonde blue eyed boy in a sea of brown. He did not mix well, trouble started, and I had too at the end of the school year arrange to have him go to the school by my parents house, so that I knew he'd finish school. We drove him for 6 years, he became a long haired, gothic dressed, smoking, and drinking high schooler. Chose crazy girlfriends, only up side was he had great choices in friends, which most he still has. Thankfully not with the crazy girlfriends. When Cody was 17 and going into his senior year in high school, Connor came into his life. He, like myself with him years earlier, immediately loved this little person. Life happened and set his course of caring and making sure this little boy had happiness, security, and honesty. Cody found himself aimless without direction most of his young adult life. Happens when your father took your trust and crushed it. He had many prize possessions pawned and gone forever. Music was his escape, friends were his escape, and drinking was how he seemed to cope. He was great at first hiding it from me, but when he lost his security job I knew something was a miss. When his dad was in the hospital on the vent, Cody went with me to see him one time. He asked to be left alone with his dad, he had stuff to say that he did not want to share with me. I could see him through the glass, red faced, angry, shaking, crying, when he was done he stormed out of the room yelled he was done, and left. Never looking back. He was not there the next day when I let his dad go. This past year Cody has opened up a bit, maybe because he has had a brush with reality when he got arrested for a DWI. Never been in trouble this one, but sometimes life knocks you upside the head for a reason. He had to get sober for awhile, it was during that time that he started to think about his dad, not all the bad things, but the sober things. What his dad did bring to the table when he could. He realized how much he did have in common with him, even if most were the negative habits, he realized he couldn't continue on with his life if he let his demons control him. He cried in my arms one night about how he missed the opportunity to say how he truly loved his dad when saying his last thoughts to him before he died. He cried about how he let all his pain and anger flow out towards his dad, how he wishes he could of told him how much he loved him, how much he missed him and well ultimately how he needed him. My son has always been a mamma's boy, in the sense that he always bonded and held fast to me. We can talk, we share stories, music and love of video games. Which he lives to play most days. He has finally found a job that he loves to do, and has begun to think of future goals. Baby steps for this boy or young man that has been rudderless for too long. He acquired albums from his dad and from his favorite father of his best friends, he plays them, old rock, old music and remembers the good times from his early childhood, remembers the few moments out in the garage with his dad listening to music into the night. Talking simply with a man he really never got to know. Cody has not found love, and I hope that will happen for him, I tell him it will happen soon enough. He needs to heal himself and be okay with who he is before he shares his life with someone else. He just loves me, still for not just being his mom through thick and thin, but for always believing in him. He knows that he was blessed where I wasn't with at least having someone that gave and gives him unconditional love, support, and well strength to stand when he feels he can't. My son stayed after his dad died to help raise his brother, the brother he adores, he stays to make sure mom carries on, and he stayed to find his way safely. He has great things a head of him should he choose them, if not, if he's okay with who he is, then I am too.  

My one and only daughter, Chelsea, my hope. As you may remember I said she came into this world as if she really did not want to be here. Hand up trying to stop the reality from hitting her cold and sharp, unlike the safety of the warm world she had developed in. She let us know from the beginning how unhappy she was, except from time to time you could catch a glimpse of her brilliant smile and deep dimples just melting your heart. She was born with a head full of dark hair that turned sunshine blonde and oh my goodness thick. Was blessed or in her opinion cursed with her dads main. Beautiful inside and out. She was a thumb sucker, comfort seeker into her self, I was her walking pacifier for 6 months straight, closest I think she's allowed me to be. She is not a person that likes to be held, touched even. Sometimes I think it's her fear of connection and feeling, of letting go of pain and taking the comfort. She gets angry easy, but I can't say she did not learn that on her own. I own that. Quick temper and sharp tongue, she inherited from me. She was from the start her daddy's little girl. She loved that man deeply, completely. He liked watching most all sports, so does she. He loved wrestling, so did she. He loved music and well so does she. He hated tomato's and well yep she in like. When she was little she was so active, on the go, loved her Barney and friends, and could fall asleep like her dad at the drop of a hat, mostly in the car. I noticed the change in her once we moved into my parents, once she was without her father, her shine faded. She stayed quiet, withdrawn, and putting on weight, a battle her and I both share, but more for her at an earlier age than me. I usually tell her she needs to let go of the pain and walls she is hiding behind and let that beautiful girl out. She still has a beautiful smile, which we still only catch rarely, and God those dimples. She was my little baseballer, my softball player, she at least pretended she enjoyed it. I think she actually only did it because she knew I loved it. She also was put into dance at 3 by my parents and did this until she was around 11, she hated it, but again did it for me. When she was in school she had few friends, migrated more toward befriending her teachers. She did well, and grew to love history of all sorts. She was a proponent for her father longer than I had been, she held fast in her love for him, hoping always that he would be here. She found peace I think when he was in her presence, well up until her late teens. She went through a few dark teenage years, Bob and I fighting about money and his lack of leaving it in my bank account. His lying, his drinking and drugs. She heard it all, she saw it all. She started to take her anger out on him, proclaimed she had learned to be a bitch from the best, her mom. I will admit I was and still can be. She was old enough to know what it was like to be without when we lost the truck and prayed for the vehicle we were riding in to not stall out. She was 15 when I got pregnant with Connor, I remember her crying when she found out. She was not happy about it, and let me know that I had better have a boy, because she did not want to have to deal with a sister. She was relieved beyond measures when we told her she was to get her wish, a brother it would be. She like her older brother loved her new brother, even though at times she'd remark at how he looked like Elmer Fudd. She was able to finish high school with her dad at home and in a better place taking care of Connor. She spent time with him watching the Spurs play, and also any football game that her dad was watching. They connected for a bit. When she graduated her dad was able to see her walk the stage, one of her happy moments and thoughts of him being there. I did not, I had Pneumonia, so for me to see her walk the stage I would have to wait 7 years for her Associates degree. Her plan when she got out of high school was to go to college so she could become that high school history teacher. Great goal, and she is still working that way. It's a slow process, because she has given so much of her time to care for Connor. She was with me when I withdrew life support from her father, she held his hand and cried. She stayed til the end, loving him and letting him know. Even though she says recently that a few weeks before he died she was in one of her "moods" where he started coughing and all she could whisper under her breath was "die already", she was guilt ridden, she was "I did not mean it, I did not want him to die". She misses him, she see's now all he tried to do near the end, but as we know to little to late. Hardness of the heart is a big unbreakable force when you keep putting more and more pain shellac with every thought of wrong doings. We easily forget the good, the swinging around in the air, the laughs, the tickle monsters, the silly poses, the silly name calling, and the love in the look right before she was tucked in. After her dad died, her new job was to get Connor up every morning for school and off the bus at night, and to help him with his homework. She does this still every day. She cooks his supper and does all the things his mom should do but who is at work. She is his second mom at times, and oh yes his older sister. Even though they argue like they are both 5 years old, they love, love, love each other. He's her little buddy, she allows him to hug her and demands it usually once to twice a day. She reminds him if he forgets that she hasn't had her hug from him today. Moment of connection she gives to him. Someday my daughter I pray will move out of her shell and show the world what an amazing young woman she is. Her bright brilliant smile should always shine through. Those that know her, I mean truly know her, love her. My gentle souled daughter, with a passion for 80's music, sports, my hope for a better tomorrow. She deserves love, security, and I hope passion from her life and in it. She will have to decide for herself the course she will take, but knows that she is okay right where she is at home too, as long as she needs to be.

Oh lastly, my baby by, my Connor, what a sunshine blessing he has been to my life. The child that I always prayed for, the one that loves to be held, loves to have kisses and is silly, free spirited and knows no limits to his happiness. He takes everything around him and feels it. This boy that by all accounts should not be here. I mean, God knew what he was doing by blessing me with this pregnancy at 41. I suppose it was a gift from God to help with the pain that I would have from losing his father early. Connor was also the chance for Bob to give in the end, to try and make amends. He was an easy pregnancy, didn't gain to much, except right at the end when I swelled up like a balloon, became pre-eclamptic and had to have an urgent c-section. He was just like his siblings beautiful when he was born. Head of blonde hair, blue eyes, and the most perfect bow shape mouth. The whole time I was pregnant, Connor was a mover, he was constant motion. I remember my doctor saying that I should expect this boy to be even more so when he was born, and he was. He loved to be in constant motion. Kicking, playing, running, climbing, you could not keep him down. He was a child that I nursed the longest, I suppose it was because I could and because I knew he was my last. It was that bond that kept us connected. He co-slept with me until he was 10. He still will climb up in bed with me to get hugs, and if he's having a hard time I will let him sleep with me. He craves being held, sung too, and just relaxes with the knowledge that you are near. He was his father's world for the last 5 years of Bob's life. He never left that boys side, they went everywhere together. They built my now falling apart deck together, they mowed the lawn, they played, laughed, loved and shared every day happy. Bob would let him nap on him everyday, his favorite spot was snuggled right up next to his dad, both watching TV on the couch. Was hard sometimes to see where one started and the other ended, both sleeping soundly. He was a cherub, a little lover, a look at me tah dah kind of kid. He was like his dad in the picky eating department. That boy will not eat a vegetable to save his hide. "Mom it just makes me gag so"... He's a lover of animals big and small. He takes peoples emotions and draws them in. If you are sad, he's sad, a boy who is not afraid to cry, and cry he does. He misses his dad, terribly. When he started school it was almost as if he sensed something was going to happen. Two weeks before his dad died, Connor was awful to his dad, did not want anything to do with him, just wanted to hang with Cody, play video games, his new passion. He would be like that right after he came home from school, but a few hours after being home, he'd return to his old ways and be right back at his dads side. I think it might of been God's way of directing him toward his brother, who would help him cope once his dad was gone. When Bob went in the hospital, it was a Monday morning. Chelsea was to get Connor up for school that day instead of her dad. Bob spent Sunday evening in pain, coughing, being sick all night long. But in between spells he would hold Connor near, he knew. Connor every day would ask for me to take him to see his dad, but I put him off. I just did not want him to see his dad as bad as he was. I thought it would be easier to remember daddy smiling, not with tubes and scary machines. Bob died on a Thursday before noon, that evening I swore my older kids to not say anything. Connor's whole world was about to get turned upside down and he had one more day of school. On Friday when he came home from school, he immediately demanded to go see his dad, that's when I sat him down and told him as gently as one can to a 5 year old that his dad had died. He cried like he's never cried before, solid 30 minutes, I held him and just let him cry. He fell asleep for two hours, and woke with a start and blurted out "Mom you need to get me a new daddy now"....Poor baby, I cried then. His goal since then is to grow up and be the best thing ever, in his mind that is a dad. He will still sometimes say to me "Mom you need to start dating, I need a step dad, it's time" as if it's that easy. One of the reason's I don't date is because I think about him first. Who would I want to be involved with his growing years, I suppose I'll let you know when I find him. Connor has his own recommendations, he must be very tall, strong, have blue eyes, facial hair, head full of hair, big smile, can laugh loud and hard, and big shoulders, and ultimately he has to be someone that can make his mom smile and feel at ease, plus totally love and get along with Connor. No where in there is he needs to have a job, but that's my problem not his. This little boy has such a way of looking at things, calling me out on life, and constant questions, constant love, constant hugs, and constant reminder that I need to live, so he can too. He is going to be a star someday, well he already is in my eyes and heart. No matter where this boy goes in life I'm sure the ripple will be felt a long way off.

So these are my amazing life gifts, my joys, my heart, my smiles, my laughs, my world, my lights, and above all my life. I am thankful for all the that I have lived through and will continue to live through. For I am blessed with these three souls to love.