Stir the Pot

To “Stir the pot” is someone who loves to proliferate the tension and drama between 2 or more people/groups to get a raise of people in hopes of starting a shitstorm of drama and uncomfortable conflict, sometimes for personal gain but oftentimes just for the thrill of confrontation.

I will keep this short and sweet with complete faith that it will reach the person for who it is intended!! Thank you for stirring the pot!  Next time you send something to my grandparents be brave enough to attach your name!  Sending something anonymously tells me that you were hell bent on causing damage!  Shame on you for kicking the elderly while they are down!

A mixed up jumble of thoughts and feelings

Sorry in advance for the jumble of thoughts and feelings.......

By definition grief is a multifaceted response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone that has died, to which a bond or affection was formed. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, spiritual, and philosophical dimensions.

Each person acts differently as they move through the process.  For some it is only a matter of days while others grieve for years upon years.  If it is only for a few days, has the person really allowed time to work through all the various dimensions of the process or are they simply doing what the departed would have wanted them to do?  I find grief to be like a roller coaster with lots of ups and downs; one day you feel great and feel like I can just pick up right where you left off and other days you feel like your world is crumbling around you.

 December 21^st 2014 my dad passed away after a very short battle with an extremely aggressive bone cancer.  It all happened so fast that it almost feels like a bit of a blur.  Sometime in November, after going back to work (after a week off to go hunting) he moved a heavy (450+lbs) piece of equipment.  He thought it was just a pulled muscle and said he would talk to the doctor about it when he went in for a check up on December 1^st.  Prior to Thanksgiving he went in to have blood drawn to be prepared for the 1^st.  So the 1^st came and the doctor said there were markers for cancer as well as a degenerative bone disorder present and he wanted to send dad in for a bone scan. The scan took place on the 3^rd. On the 4^th the family doctor told them there was evidence of bone cancer.  Dad went to an oncologist on the 9^th where he was put through every test known to mankind (ok…so it only feels like that).  On the 14^th the oncologist called mom and said it didn't look good, but they would talk more about it the next day because they had another appointment.  December 15^th the official diagnosis came: TERMINAL AGGRESSIVE BONE CANCER.  There was nothing they could do but make dad comfortable.  He could be admitted to a hospital or go home, and dad wanted to go home.  The doctor said it could be a few days or a few months; there were just no way to tell how long it would be.  Phone calls were made and family rushed to be by his side. 

It was finals week at school for me, apparently I didn't have enough stress going on in my life? (Mental note to self: you are only given what you can handle!) I had many people tell me to skip the final and to withdraw from school for spring semester, but the truth is had I done so dad would have kicked my butt as soon as I got to his bedside.  He wouldn't want me to quit living because I am sad; he would want me to work through it and move on.  After that fateful phone call from my mom I pulled myself together and went to campus to talk to my professor.  He is awesome and wrote the final up just so I could take it early.  Under the circumstances I expected to fall flat on my face, and much to my delight I still managed an “A” in the class.

Now that the grieving process is in full swing, I know I am overly mopey but I know as time goes on it will be less and less.  In all honesty I feel like I am ok as long as people don’t ask “how are you”.  Part of me wants to say “crappy, thanks for asking” but I hold myself back because I know asking someone how they are is completely natural.  My weight is like a yo-yo.  I really don’t want to be around people.  The first Sunday back at church (one week since dad passed) while uplifting was also my own personal hell.  I tried to walk with my head down and tried to avoid as much eye contact as I could.  I just didn't want to talk to people.  Thankfully I think most people caught on to my don’t talk to me vibe and only a few people walked up and gave me a hug, told me they have been thinking about me and how myself and my family were in their prayers.  Each time I completely lost it! Don’t get me wrong, there was a small part of me that did appreciate the hugs and kind words, I just didn't have a desire to be social in any way, shape or form.

I didn't realize it until I was talking with a friend the other day that for me part of the healing process is making sure that my dad’s final wishes are fulfilled. Years ago when he told me he wanted to be cremated and taken home to Wrangell to have his remains spread in several of his favorite locations, my initial thought was “um…ok” but now I am beyond thankful that I knew what he wanted.  The day after he passed I had asked my friends on Facebook to make donations so we could make sure his wishes were fulfilled.  I had one of my sisters childhood friends tell me I should start a Gofundme page, so I did!   My feelings are a little mixed on this.  After reading about “symptoms” of grief I realize that my mixed feelings have a lot to do with me working through things since dad has passed on.  All of the support is overwhelming.  I am working to keep the pessimism and grumpiness grief from taking over.  There have been tons of shares, but really nothing coming of them. The pity train has been cruising through my head over and over and it really is taking a lot of effort to stop it dead in its tracks. I know if God is willing, things will fall into place and I am just being very impatient.  I am continually reminding myself of this!  I know that I am impatient, I always have been but this for me a new all-time high of impatience and pessimism. 

Through this processes I tried to see as many silver linings as I could.  So here they are:

Great Grandma and Grandpa with all the Great Grandkids

•  We got to see dad before he left this mortal life.  Many of his final words to me will forever be burned upon my mind.
•  My grandparents came from Alaska and my youngest was able to meet them

•  I think through this my sister and I have patched up our relationship (it has been rocky over the years to say the very least)

  

  Myself, Jaclyn and Gram

• The cousins got to hang out
•  My dad’s half brother called me after a 2+ yr hiatus (I wish he would have called dad but what can a girl do?)    
• 
  

 I will always miss him, but I can be thankful for the little and sometimes silly things even if right now I cannot think of any, I know I will find them.  It is interesting how certain sights, smells, sounds, etc... Remind us of loved ones.  Though my grandpa is still living when I smell fiberglass I am automatically taken back to the boat being on the dry dock getting a new fiberglass shell and getting to hang out with Grandpa.  My maternal grandmother who passed on in 2006, its link sausage; as a little girl she would take me to the Dock Side restaurant and I would get sausage.  When she first died I couldn't eat a link sausage without bursting into tears.  Yes, I still think of her when I eat sausage but now it is fondly because I am so thankful I have that silly little memory.  My kids packed home tools that belonged to my dad, and dad was a Snap On man.  The other day I saw a little Snap On kit in the garage and yep you guessed it, the tears just started to flow without even thinking.  I know that eventually this too will not be bitter, but will be one of those silly sweet memories of dad.

The Changing Times

When it comes to language, this video I stumbled across does a fabulous job of showing just how times have changed. 1939= one paintball and 2010= well lots and lots of paintballs.  Sure makes one think!

Word Crimes

I thought this was pretty funny, and since I have not posted for awhile thought it would be worth sharing! :)

Words hurt?

OK..so I fully agree with the gentleman in this clip!  We the people give the words power. Words are only hurtful when you allow them to have power over you!   PS...I love that the audience BOO's Whoopi when she says "spoken like a true white guy".

So I decided that I would post at least once a month (at least for now).  As time moves forward this may change, but I figure as long as I have readers out there in the world I should make an effort!  Thanks for your continued support! :)

Parent

As my children grow, I often find myself pondering.  I question myself all of the time; am I doing a sufficient job raising my children?  Am I being a good parent?  With those questions in mind, I have to ask you as a reader what do you believe makes a good parent?  What is your definition?

I think of several things when I hear the word parent(s).  The obvious comes to mind, a caregiver or someone who gave life to another.  As I went to Google and did a search I was more than a little disturbed at some of the stuff I read.  More then a couple got under my skin, and to be completely honest most of what was written on the urban dictionary site really irritated me as well as made me sad.  When you read definitions like " the person or people who pretend to care" you have to wonder what happened to make that person feel that way?  In all reality, who of us at one point or another didn't feel that way (most likely you were a teen, at least I was).  The things I read there actually made me feel bad for our society.  Too many times parents want to be a child's best friend, I say they have enough best friends what they need are parents who are willing to tell them no from time to time, teach them the difference between right and wrong and love them regardless of the mistakes that are made.  

Well, back to me.  How do I measure up? Is there any way that I could figure out just how I was doing? Not too long ago on a car ride with my very soon to be 15 year old son, the unexpected came.  With the school year coming to a close I reflected a bit and had made mention that it was hard for me to fathom the fact that in just a few short years I would start to have kids leaving home (the mind feels young though the body says otherwise).  I said to my son that I was slightly concerned that as a mom, I might not be living up to my end of the bargain and might be failing them as a parent.  What happened next was completely unexpected and wonderful.  With the utmost disgust in his voice he said "are you kidding me?"  I really didn't know how to respond and sat driving down the road in silence as he continued "you have done amazing things with us, and if I can raise my kids half as well as you have done I will still have amazing kids!"  I continued to get a bit of a lecture as we drove home.  I tried hard to hold myself together; though I don't think I did a very good job!  With tears streaming down my face all I could muster was a timid "thank you son."

Becoming a parent is something I knew I wanted in my life, what it means to be a parent is nothing like I expected.  There are a few things I have learned along the way.  First: Show respect for each other and admit when you are wrong!  I am by no means a perfect parent and I never will be.  I make mistakes all of the time, but if I do make a big flub; I have enough respect for my kids to "man up" and admit it.  Some might say this in itself is a mistake, but at our house we have learned a mutual respect.  My kids know that I make mistakes and also understand that I have enough respect for them as individuals to admit to them when I do. Secondly; expect the unexpected.  Sometimes this is like a bat to the face, but most of the time it is subtle. Finally and most important is that being a parent means 100% unequivocal love. We are all on this journey of life together whether we like it or not and by no means is it going to be easy. Like the Beatles sang: