Happiness

If I had to sum up my life over the last 5 years, the first word that would come up is OVERWHELMING. This is how I've felt for most of that time--juggling becoming a mom and a wife, managing my household with my husband not in it most of the times I'm there, learning how to do the best for Elliot, being pregnant or nursing most of that period, managing this wonderfully broke place, struggling financially, it's just been A LOT. Not much time for me to care about me.

And I've learned that I haven't learned how to manage my own chaos...I'm not very organized, and it's not a tool I've learned to use to say, learn how to put my kids to sleep in a less stressful manner. And I'm also stubborn, so I won't say, use a kid-leash to keep my wandering son tethered to me, because I just think they are offensive--but maybe that's just another example of how I don't know how to manage my own chaos. I use that "it is what it is" a little too much, and the result is me being a harried, exhausted mom, who gets resentful about how hard things are...

Standing outside of myself, and hearing myself has also exhausted me...I don't want to be this person.

As I think about Galito, I think of how the things I take for granted are the things that were so hard for him, that he never got to enjoy--
-simple domestic bliss (clean house, home-cooked meals, freshly cut grass)
-children's play (getting on the floor, playing a game, letting kids be themselves)
-a healthy, loving marriage (thoughtful gestures, flirting, silly banter)
-meaningful work (a sense of individual accomplishment, the joys of camaraderie with others)

I've been thinking about this a lot lately...and the other day, I just decided to be happy. That what I have might not be as easy to come by as it has for me, and that despite the challenges of the home, the kids, the husband, the job I'm so incredibly fortunate to have these, just as they are.

Well, thinking happiness and living it are still hard to push through in my overwhelmed state--and I still find myself over-reacting when stressed, of course. But I'm actively pursuing my own happiness now, today...not just for me, but for my brother...because all these "little things" I have, well, having them would have meant the world to him. I know he wants this for me. So I'm working on happiness. And thinking each day of all I have to be happy about, and trying to see the beauty in my chaos...I know it will get better.

I'm missing you today. I wanted to look at your death certificate today. For some reason, I had to see if "suicide" was listed as the cause of death. I don't know why. I've looked at it so many times. Have I seen that before? Mom wouldn't get it. She just said, "Why? It's depressing." And I asked her if it said that, and she said, "Yes, of course." And we just shared that look we share now--the look of "Why?"

Tina and Gigi wanted to come over...I made up lies cause I just couldn't. Maura and Cam dropped off dinner tonight. We were home, and by the time they left, I was so glad they'd come. I know I would've felt the same with Tina or Gigi...but can't commit to the plan. Better to surprise me with some love and support like an effin ninja, cause if I see you coming, I'm gonna duck and hide. What feels so hard about making plans? I'm glad, and somewhat surprised when people want to be around me (why would Kathryn and Katrina want me at the beach?)--I feel like such a killjoy.

I see that Holly nominated your eulogy for a Just Post. I just read it again. It hurts every time, but thinking of reading it to the people who came makes me feel good. I'm glad they got to hear so much that was good about you...the You that hid for so long. It is good to miss you too...I haven't really missed you for so many years. But I hurt for you. And I feel the ghost of you, in the pictures everywhere of someone I am Sure I used to Know and Love...but where are you? I love you. That sadness is my love for you.

I saw you at the Rock n Bowl--we were there for Kevin's work party--and there was your twin- from one of your stocky with long hair and goatee periods. Kevin says his name is Mario, but he looks just like you. Even dressed like you--long, board shorts, t-shirt, heavy metal bracelet--his bowling face even reminded me of yours--I thought of what you'd look like bowling...I watched Mario quite a long time. I wonder how his voice sounds. Ms. Gladys says this is something you do after someone you love dies. Says it happens to her quite a bit with Ardis. I couldn't help gawking. It was very surreal. You should be here. I think of how could you were. It was an unnatural cold. I think of that sensation, and your curly hair each day. I'm glad I touched you before you were put in the ground.

We went to Bay St. Louis with Mama, Daddy and Haydee. I was surprised Daddy came, but everyone enjoyed it. Daddy watched Meet Joe Black, and it gave us some interesting conversations. I'm surprised with how easy it is to treat him with delicacy now--he so often deserves a good head slap, but I can see such a deep sadness in him now. Mama too--she cried on our way back from the mall. Said she always bought you something. I wonder if you cared or knew how much we'd hurt. Or if it really didn't matter. No, I guess you can't live for someone else...especially not the way you lived. I'm sad you couldn't find happiness. I wonder if now that is our curse.

Oliver is the bringer of love these days. He slept with Tito in BSL, and Daddy said it was the best sleep he's had in weeks. That Ollie woke up crying, looked over and saw him, and smiled at him in the dark. Well, that just breaks him all up. Mama is always holding him. It will be a miracle if he ever walks with all that luvin. I wonder now about the surprise of him coming. If the universe knew something I didn't about what would happen in our lives. That we would need a little baby to pull us out of our sadness that could so easily swallow us up. A baby, that so very often, looks exactly like you did. Give or take 10 pounds.

I wonder about this pain--and if life is slowly trying to rob me of my optimism, and if I'll have the strength to fight it back. And I look at so many others, mostly folks older than I, who've lost, and hurt, and endured. That's just life, I guess. I find myself not wanting to focus on the good bits of life--keep waiting for something else to happen.

I don't know that I've ever felt so fragile--I look at folks who might want to talk to me with a mixture of fear and caution. Some people look like they are scared of my pain...but then again, I'm paying an inordinate amount of attention to these interactions--so unusual for me. I've always considered myself fearless. Now the idea of being fearless and having so much to lose is ridiculous to me.

At some point, I'm supposed to turn this into something positive, right? Ms. Gladys says it will always just hurt. But it will get better over time. I'll just have to believe that, I guess.

God

That force you feel in your chest,
that compels you to help another,
that pulls at you to seek outside of yourself,
that will relieve the worries that pile into mountains,
Fighting against our tendency to live strictly indulging ourselves,
ignoring the world of pain, sadness, injustice, need...

God, like gravity pulling me forward,
This force, this love, compelling my actions and fulfilling itself,
as love fulfills itself, through a million actions great and small.

What else could this be called? I believe in God because I believe in this force, in you and in me. We are God.