November 15, 2010 at 6:00 am

My inspiration for writing today came from a comment I read on a friends facebook wall.  I have not been able to shake it and I dreamt about it last night.  It was about family and time.  It was innocent, fun loving, but yet so wide open and unattainable by some.  My dream took me through wide fields with tall grasses.  I was lost and running. I wanted to get home, it was almost too late in my dream…as if home was slipping through my fingers like sand.  I never made it. The colors faded to black and I woke to a large empty feeling, almost like I had no heart.  It was a typical start to my day….
As I walk through my pain today I will be reminded that my life is a gift.  Just like the gift that was given to my son, I was given the gift of life by my mother.  I wake up every morning wanting to shake my head and clear it of the bad dream I am living, but the nightmare never goes away, the answers never come.
What is my life about now?  Will I ever do the great things I have always thought of doing? Everything feels so incomplete and as if nothing will ever be finished, or right.  The future doesn’t seem so big anymore and not so great.  The scope of my life and my future seem small.
So what do I do with this frustrating dilemma? I have this gift!  I have this pain!  I have this future!  I have this emptiness!
I start with little things.  Things that seem insignificant, unimportant, ridiculous.  It’s what I have, these little things, everyone has them.  The little things are what fuel us to handle the big.  Cleaning out drawers, raking leaves, combing my hair, washing windows, doing laundry, journal, baking bread, and yes…even scrubbing the damn toilet.  They are all things that will have to be done again and again, never being complete but each time I face these little things that make up a day, I somehow feel significant and partially fulfilled.  These are the things that some others do not pay attention that you do, the things that you just do every day (your list of things would be different that mine..) and sometimes never get validation, recognition….or any satisfaction.  I invest a lot of strength in these little things….
Who can really be a judge of which little things are important?  My list is full of cleaning type things but someone else’s may not be.  Our little things go on being a part of everyday for us, for our whole lives.  Where someone may tell me that the little things just don’t matter anymore…. especially when you are going through this unbearable pain our family is living…I just want to say…No, it is the little things that keeps us alive.
So I stack up my little things.  I try my best at each task, putting forth the effort and care that each job needs…..hopefully to make a difference in my life, maybe being selfish and maybe being obsessive/compulsive to some extreme about these little things.  They are constant, they are in my control.  They allow me time to think, to work through grief, to work through anger.  My little things prepare me for my breakdowns, my meltdowns, my dark days.
I appreciate my gift of life that was given to me, just as I know my son did also.  His day was full of little things on April 5th, his list, those things that got him through each day.  But that day he did not make it.  He got lost in something big…..it took over.  When I drive in my car, to the west, I think of driving fast to save his life…could I have done it.  When I scrub and clean I want to channel my strength to my son.  When I do our laundry, I want to wash his pain away.  When we rake up the leaves, I want to see his car drive up.  When my little things seem so little and so unimportant, I remember my gift.
As confusing as it can get, life as a gift motivating me to work through pain from death……I grasp at nothing sometimes..thin air, straws, invisible outlines of hope.  Minutes seem like eternity, gasping for air, and staring blindly through tears that well up in my eyes constantly.  Keep moving, keep thinking, don’t forget, put it away.  What do I do?
As history is being written on my face every day, life is happening around me for everyone.  My pain is no less than the next, and no greater than the last.  What am I being used for?  Why couldn’t the first part of my life been kinder to human suffering?  Why couldn’t I have been given a chance with Fred, to fix it.
I think as a Mom we want to fix everything for our kids.  I am guilty of it but also guilty of not helping in some cases, thinking I was helping them help themselves.  Just as no one can judge our little things…how can we not help and think that is helping?  All of my kids know I would give them the last rag on our backs and the last nickel in our pockets.  But do they know, I mean actually and positively know how much their parents absolutely adore them.  Do they know that they are at the top of the little things list, the big things list, and the in-between and middle things list.  Do they know that being their parent, their friend, their support is the greatest honor….. and their Dad and I fall in love with them over and over and over, everyday.
It comes full circle in life, sometimes bringing us to our knees and other times lifting us up in the clouds.  Love comes round and round.  It is new on my list of little things, find ways to love myself, my life.  My gift.