"Learning to Breathe Again"

Find it at Amazon.com

There is a book that I have been meaning to find - it's written by Christian singer Tammy Trent, and it's called "Learning to Breathe Again."  I found a bit about it online, and wanted to share what I had found.  My next stop is the website of the local library, to see if I can't reserve this for the next time I venture in there to pick up a DVD or book.  :)

"Christian singer/songwriter Tammy Trent and her husband had a fairy-tale marriage, right up to their romantic vacation to Jamaica in September 2001. But on a routine diving excursion, her husband Trent never resurfaced and was later found dead, changing Tammy's life forever. She took a year off from music to grieve and begin healing, and is now using Trent's story as part of her testimony and ministry. Tammy tells her story in her brand-new book, Learning to Breathe Again, in which she tells of their wonderful romance, Trent's tragic death, and how she has been picking up the pieces since.

In the following excerpt, we pick up the story two weeks after Trent's death and shortly after the funeral, when Tammy is returning to her Nashville home. She had asked a neighbor, Shannon, to pick her up at the airport and take her to the house.

We didn't say a lot on the ride from the airport. But when we pulled into our neighborhood, I began crying. Shannon reached over and took my hand, but neither of us said anything. She pulled into the driveway. "Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you, Tammy?" she asked.
"I'm sure. But thank you, Shannon."

"If you need anything, you know I'm here." She lived just a couple of doors away.
I nodded, thanked her, and gave her a hug.

Then I punched in the code to open the garage door. Hearing the familiar noise as it rumbled up, a morsel of memory flashed through my mind: Trent and me coming out through the garage, carrying our luggage to the car, big smiles on our faces and happy to be on our way to Jamaica.

My eyes fell on Trent's yard shoes, lined up next to the door leading into the house. He wore them when he was mowing the grass or working outside, and he always took them off before he came inside. I looked at those shoes and pictured Trent leaving them there, lifting out one foot, then the other.

I opened the door and stepped into the house. Everything was exactly as we had left it. There was the DVD lying out beside the TV: Patch Adams. We had watched it together the night before we left for Jamaica. Trent loved that movie, and we had both wiped away tears at the end, where Patch loses the love of his life.

I walked quietly through the house. I didn't weep uncontrollably, but the tears rolled down my cheeks, and occasionally I covered my mouth to keep from sobbing aloud. I sat down in the living room and looked around, then I got up and walked through every room on the first floor.

Finally I started up the sixteen stairs, clinging to the stair rail to pull myself up every step. I stepped into our bedroom and looked around at everything as though I'd never seen it before. And yet it was all so familiar: the pillows arranged just so on the bad, the picture on the dresser, Trent's underwear on the floor. I smiled, remembering how I'd said, "Honey, pick that up," but in the rush to leave that morning, he'd obviously forgotten it.

In our bathroom, I rubbed my hand along the big bathtub we'd shared so many times. I imagined Trent sliding under the surface, holding his breath. There were candles all around the edge of the tub, and I noticed a little matchbook leaning against one of them. Not knowing why, I opened it up, and there, in Trent's writing, was a message to me: "Hi, TT!" He'd drawn a big heart around the words.

It was as if he had left that little matchbook for me to find at exactly that difficult moment. My heart lurched, imagining him writing the words.

Inside our walk-in closet, I pulled a bunch of Trent's clothes off the hangers and sank to the floor, burying my face in them. I lay there a long time, weeping and trying to breathe in Trent's scent, trying to feel his presence again in those rumpled clothes;

A little bit later, I walked into our office. I started the computer, and as the screen lit up, I caught my breath when I saw a little yellow square in the lower left-hand corner. It looked like a sticky note stuck there on the screen, and it said, "Tammy is who I dream of. Can't wait to see you."

Can't wait to see you.

I sat there, stunned, by the messages Trent had left for me to find. First the matchbook, and now the computer. I was amazed at how Trent continued to comfort me, even from heaven ..."

Here's the site where I found this excerpt.

You can find Tammy's book at Amazon.com

And the grief goes on ...

In a previous post I talked about the vacation that my daughters and I just returned from ... a week of sun and fun in Southern California, seeing Disneyland and many other fun attractions - and making memories.

But now we are home, Oldest Daughter has returned to college and Youngest Daughter is still enjoying another month of summer before school starts.  I am back to work, having done all the laundry that required doing and weeded the garden that grew dramatically while we were gone.  OK, honestly I've only partially weeded it so far ... but I'm working on it.  :)

Last night I sat down after Youngest Daughter was in bed, and put in a DVD to watch.  It was "P.S. I Love You" - a poor choice for the night, it turns out.  It's always been a favorite, but for obvious reasons has been hard to watch for the past year or so.  Well, I tried it again last night - and the pain was still there.  Cried and had to turn it off after about the first 30 minutes.  Still reminds me too much of the pain of losing my husband.  I have found that I am still on this road of grief ... or should I say, I had a pitstop in Grief-ville last night.  A reminder that it's not over yet.  Far from over ... but getting better.

So here are some thoughts to share, for those who are on this road along with me:

"Your Grieving Heart" - Recover From Grief website

There are three major points for you to keep in mind as you go through your "work of mourning":

• You will have your own unique way of expressing and experiencing grief. As long as it is changing, and moving, and "fluid", it is normal grieving.
  
• WHAMO! Brought to your knees again by intense grief. And you'll wonder if you are making any progress at all. You are. The passage of time assures this.
  
  
  
• It really will come to an end. In it's own time. You will come back to life with loving remembrance in your heart, ready to embrace life again without your beloved at your side. You will gradually feel stronger and more in charge of your life. It really does end.
  

Family Vacation - Check!

Well, it's been my goal to have a vacation this summer with my daughters - and I can cross that off my list now.  We had a great vacation to Southern California, and did all the usual stuff people do when visiting there - Disneyland, California Adventure Park, Universal Studios, Knott's Berry Farm and SeaWorld.  You can read all about it in my new blog (yeah, decided to put up a new blog about traveling with kids, etc.)

Travel Mom

Please check it out and tell me what you think.  Any ideas or tips you have for traveling with kids, family vacations, etc?  Please share!  I would love to hear from you.  :)

I Gotta Get Me Some Stilettos

I am sharing with you a great book that I read recently.  If you are a widow (or know a widow) you will want to read this book (or share it with your friend.)  Here it is:

This is a great book - very honest about what it's like to be a young widow who is raising children.  Here are some of the reviews for the book, taken from the Amazon.com website:

"Carole Brody Fleet is changing the face and style of widowhood. It's a very unique look at an unusual problem these days that is affecting a lot of women." - Deborah Roberts, Correspondent, ABC News', "Good Morning America Now"

"Motivational speaker and coach Fleet, who was widowed at 40 and has since made numerous guest appearances on television and radio, offers a guide for women who have also experienced the loss of a partner at a young age. Fleet's presentation is frank and interspersed with bits of honest humor. The text is easy to read, with charts and tips sprinkled throughout. Fleet, with psychotherapist Harriet, provides information on how to organize details such as funeral arrangements, wills, social security, and insurance at a time when organization is the last thing a new widow may want to face. She discusses emotional, physical, and spiritual health and finishes by focusing on living the rest of your life. This is a book about hope, and women will want to read it and share it with others, regardless of marital status or age. An essential addition to every public library" - The Library Journal

"[The] author has created a wise and practical guide for young widows on how to recover, cope, heal, and find a fulfilling life." - Orange Coast Magazine

"Carole Brody Fleet offers advice and humor in the book,' Widows Wear Stilettos...' to help young widows cope with loss." - The Orange County Register

"A young widow holds out a helping hand to others who have lost their husbands" - The San Diego Union-Tribune 

Most of the books that deal with widows and "widow-hood" that I have heard about or checked out from the library are geared toward those who are widowed later in life, whose children are grown and out of the house.  This book is unique in being practical and yet sensitive to the concerns of younger widows.  There are many stigmas still associated with being a widow, especially when you are "younger"  (can I still count myself a a "young widow?"  I guess according to this book I can.)

My biggest "take away" from reading this book was to remember that there are many "armchair quarterbacks" out there that have lots of advice - but you need to trust your own instincts and your heart.  Grief is a tricky emotion and only YOU can (and should) make the choices about what's best for you.  And it gives you practical tips about dealing with some common problems associated with navigating this time of grief.  Let me know what you think about the book!  :)

Here is Carol's blog as well:  Widows Wear Stilettos blog

Why is this so tough?!

Why is it so difficult to have a regular mealtime?!  We use to do that.  We used to have a regular time when we would sit down together for a meal.  Breakfast used to be a no-brainer.  I had that handled from early on when the girls started school.  Robby never had breakfast with us because he was usually out of the house early for work, and not much of a breakfast eater anyway. But it was heathy and on the table before the girls left for school.  And dinner, although sometimes hit and miss, was usually accomplished with a minimum of fuss.  We managed to spend most nights eating dinner around the same time, even if it wasn't always while gathered around the dining room table.  So what has happened to this once-capable mom?

I am told by the experts (whose helpful advice I read in so many books on death/grief/loss) that it's one of those things that happens when your world is uprooted like ours.  And yet having a schedule and routines is one of the most important things you can do for yourself and your child, especially when things are in an upheaval.  Aaargh!

Here's what THEY say (you know - the experts):

"Create Structure -
Structure can be a huge source of comfort for kids. Do what you can to stabilize your routines, including your kids' nightly bedtime routine¹, so that they'll have a general idea of what to expect from one moment to the next. Simple consistencies like serving meals at the same time each day can also help to create a stable atmosphere even while your emotions remain turbulent."

I try - honest, I do.  Menu plans have been researched and printed.  They don't last long; that's just not how we roll.  We are more of a "seat of the pants" family at the moment.  Whatever is in the fridge or cupboards is fair game for mealtimes.  Healthy eating is an elusive dream most of the time, although I honestly do try.

Bedtime has been easier to maintain.  For whatever reason that is an area where we are able to stay structured.  And that has been good for Rachel, even though she has been more anxious about me leaving the room at night when I tuck her in bed.  She gets out of bed more often with the usual myriad of excuses - not every night, but more often than she would normally.  And it seems like the only time she wants to talk about what's bothering her is at bedtime - and I hate to cut her off when she is trying to share with me something of importance.  Overall however, bedtime is the least of my worries.

We are in a state of flux right now - and have been for awhile.  And I guess that's OK - for now.  The watchword these days is "adapt."  We extend ourselves grace, and know that we may never even come close to being a normal family again.  But we do alright.  I suppose if by "normal" you mean functioning, then we are doing just fine.  Considering everything, we do indeed manage to hold it together.  And it does get better - I am counting on that, as I hold onto God's promises for all of us.

Slowing Down - Learning to Balance

It's been tempting to try to maintain our usual hurried pace this past year.  But I have learned a BIG lesson - we need to take time to heal, and that means slowing down.  If we are going to allow God to heal us individually and as a family we must give Him the time and space that He needs to accomplish that.  But you'd think I had never heard the verse, "Be still and know that I am God."  (Psalm 46:10)

I wonder if I have been running away from my grief, trying to bury it in a rush of activities?  You are supposed to try to maintain routines and schedules while you are grieving, to have a sense of normalcy after a tragic event.  This helps to stabilize us and gives us comfort.  But at times I think I have used that advice as an excuse.

I need to learn balance in this area.  I am just now (a year after Robby's death) realizing that I need to work at slowing down more often.  I guess I have always subscribed to the idea that you should "burn out instead of rust out."  Now I know that neither is a good option.

I have allowed Rachel and Becky more time and space to slow down than I have allowed myself.  I figured they would let their grief and subsequent healing guide how much they wanted to be involved in as far as activities, school events, family events, etc.  And that has worked very well.  They tell me when enough is enough, they don't feel like attending a certain event or activity.  Rachel used to take dance classes - every year for the past 3 years or so.  This fall when sign-ups came around she wasn't interested, so we dropped it and I didn't push.  Now that we are in summer vacation, she is asking what kind of sports or activities she can sign up for in the fall.  She needed this school year to get back some balance, and to push back from what may have been too much activity.

I haven't extended myself that same courtesy, it seems.  At least as far as guilt-ing myself into doing it all.  I have been trying to maintain the same pace as always, and feeling guilty whenever I didn't meet my own insane standards. 

I find myself now becoming more picky about the social activities in which I take part.  And I am (FINALLY) not feeling guilty about that.  Before, if I chose to turn down an invitation I would stay home - and feel guilty.  Now I can just stay home - and leave off the guilt.  Yeah for me!  I'm learning.  :)

I never used to get up early just to have time to myself.  But now I find I am enjoying getting up earlier and having a quiet house to myself, whether that's to read a chapter in a book or just enjoy a cup of tea - or both.  I am finding such a blessing in slowing down and taking quiet time just for myself.  The healing is occurring.  :)

Gotta love the family!

One thing that I am finding to be very helpful in dealing with my grief and the grief of my daughters is my family members, and our closeness - not just in proximity, but emotionally, too.  We have always been a close-knit family and I am so thankful for that now.

It's tough being the only parent.  I am the most important adult in my daughters' lives right now, and that can feel overwhelming at times.  There is no one to "back me up" when it's time for discipline, and no one to share the joys and small victories with either.  It is very lonely being a widow.  Sure, during the day there is lots of hustle and activity. Lots to be done and distractions are easy to come by.  But when the house gets quiet and dark - that's a different story.  My tears tend to catch up with me in the shower, when I am getting ready for bed each night.

It's important for my daughters (and for me) to have other adults in their lives to help and support them over this difficult time.  And let's not kid ourselves - "this difficult time" is going to be around for awhile.  Every time there is a new milestone reached, there will also be a look backward, wishing that Dad was here to be a part of it.  We carry that loss forward with us from now on.

But having their grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins close at hand helps to let them know they are not alone, and there are others looking out for them as well.  One of Rachel's biggest fears has been that something would happen to me - that she would lose BOTH her parents.  Making sure she knows that there are family members that love her and would take care of her, should something happen to me, has helped a little to allay her fears.

We are blessed to have my brother, my sister and her husband, my parents, and close family friends whom we consider family all nearby.  The guys are on call whenever I need help with the lawnmower, or a garden tilled, or advice on how to pressure wash the house or start the Traeger grill.  And there are cousins nearby for the girls to hang out with, and enjoy some time away from Mom and her harping at them.  :)

You can't pick your family - God does that for you.  I think He did a pretty good job in my case - I feel very blessed!