Remembering little things about the days after Kyle died -

I wore jeans to Kyle's viewing. The first time I saw Kyle after he died, and the second to last time I ever saw him, I was wearing jeans. Jeans that were too big, jeans that had been worn for the two days prior, and I kept hiking them up.

Even though it was the third full day that I spent in San Diego, and one would think that was totally enough time to accomplish things, those three days were so busy with things I never thought I would be doing.

On Tuesday morning, I was awake at at 3:30. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't cry, I was numb. I ended up sending a few work-related emails. By 9:00 in the morning, we were headed to Kyle's house. My aunt and uncle met us there to help us clean up Kyle's stuff. Kirsten met us there, and nearly everything we encountered held some sort of memory.

We finally ate at 3:00. I think we went to the cemetery that day and started cemetery arrangements for Kyle. We picked a place to bury Kyle - underneath the old-fashioned light post a few yards from Mamoo and Papoo. We also went by the funeral home to discuss the viewing and arrangements. I went alone with my mom...and nearly lost it knowing that Kyle was in that building.

That evening, a few family friends came over to see us bringing food.

*I am amazed that I can remember all of this*

The next morning, my mother, sisters, and I met with the pastor and vicar to discuss Kyle's service. Afterward, we went back to Kyle's house. On the way, I tried to do some work. I broke down on the phone. We went through pictures of Kyle, and we delivered furniture and some of Kyle's things to my grandmother's home. Kamron and I wrote Kyle's obituary (mostly Kamron...I edited).

On Thursday morning, my mother and I scrambled to get pictures together. We looked for clothes (I will tell you now that Kyle was buried in dirty clothes...well, his underclothes were clean, but his shirt, tie, and sweater were not. Also, we selected slacks that Kyle wore to Kamron's wedding (and split on the dance floor. They had been tailored).

I arranged to run the obituary in the Visalia Times-Delta. My mom and I ran to Costco and spent an hour going through photos and selecting them for one-hour delivery. We left there, ordered some food, and headed toward my mom's house. I left her there to get ready for Kyle's viewing and left to scan pictures at CVS.

I will never forget the helpfulness of Sue, who permitted me to scan two photos that were professionally shot. I also picked up a prescription for something to help me sleep. After I finished scanning, an hour after the viewing began. I ran back to Costco to pick up posters and pictures and drove across town to the funeral home.

More later.

More travel -

It seems like all I do is get in a car/on a train/on a plane/on a boat to travel somewhere. I really miss staying at home. In fact, with work as busy as it is, I can't remember the last time I was "JUST" home.

Tomorrow I leave for a long weekend in San Francisco. Taking in the sights, sipping some chowder on the wharf, or enjoying a sundae in Ghiradelli Square you may think, but no, I am working at the CRP convention in Burlingame. And before you go pitying me, I am really excited to see my friends.

***

About two weeks ago, I was formally diagnosed with PCOS, a syndrome affecting the reproductive system. It explains many of my fertility issues and weight problems, and I am working to get this under control. If you google PCOS, you'll find out way more than you want to know about me, so I do not recommend it.

The primary treatment for PCOS is Metformin, a drug often used to treat diabetes. Not surprising, seeing as how insulin resistance is one of the symptoms of PCOS. My experiences with Metformin to date has been wretched. Everything I read indicates that the symptoms get better, but right now I am on a very limited diet coupled with frequent bathroom visits. I consistently feel as though my (usually) iron stomach just took about 50 trips on the Superman ride at Magic Mountain.

It has to get better from here, and the most positive side effect to date is the rapid weight loss. In one week, I have dropped ~8 lbs. Granted, not eating typically causes weight loss, but I don't feel like I'm starving myself. I'm just, dare I say it, not hungry.

***

More later.

Feeling a little bit guilty -

I need to knock this shit off.

You see, the giant boat on which I am cruising is departing in less than 48 hours.

...and all I can think about is that the Bahamas are somewhere Kyle would have enjoyed.

Each time I go somewhere new and different, I think "did Kyle go here? what about Mamoo?" Inevitably, the answer is no, and I spend the next hour trying to see some-thing/where the way they might have.

Case in point, neither Kyle nor my grandma ever went to Washington, DC. It wasn't for lack of interest; the opportunity just never arose. I think of their individual interests when driving by the sites and monuments. Mamoo would have loved walking through Lafayette Square, especially knowing that a president could be within couple hundred feet. Kyle would have loved traipsing through the Capital Building, gleefully reading the signs for the committee rooms. He would have patiently watched a dozen different Members speak to a nearly-empty chamber, fully aware that their primary audience is a bunch of retirees tuning in to CSPAN.

Back to the cruise. I know that every bite of decadent food I eat, every relaxing moment in a hammock, or wiggling my toes in Freeport's powdery beaches will invoke a memory of people who should be having those experiences with me.

I haven't come up with a better adjective than bittersweet. Absolutely happy that I am there....devastated that I do not have better company to join me.

So damn easy to say that life's so hard
Everybody's got their share of battle scars
As for me, I'd like to thank my lucky stars
That I'm alive and well

It'd be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain
But not me, I'm alive

And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathin' in and out's a blessing, can't you see?
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
And I'm alive and well
I'm alive and well

Stars are dancin' on the water here tonight
It's good for the soul when there's not a soul in sight
This boat has caught its wind and brought me back to life
Now I'm alive and well

And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathing in and out's a blessing, can't you see?
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
Now I'm alive and well
Yeah, I'm alive and well

Wednesday

Today is really the calm before the storm. In the next week, I will be in seven states and two countries. Ten days after that, I will add another four states to the list. Yes. I am traveling...a lot.

Anyone who knows me can tell you that I tend to shun medicine. I have an inhaler and epi-pen because swollen throats and dying are not good, but beyond that, advil and sometimes some nyquil tend to do the trick. Until the bottom falls out, and I really can't just get by on band-aid fixes...

Since Kyle died, I have not slept. That's an exaggeration, but really, I'm lucky if I get 3-4 hours of sleep a night...and it's interrupted sleep. The last 75 days have been zombie-like. I live my life in a haze, and it takes forever to get anything done. I don't want to live like this, but I also don't want to introduce something into my system that alters me.

The physical I had scheduled for November 14 and canceled when my mom called to tell me that Kyle died was rescheduled for Monday. After mulling things over with my therapist, I decided to tell the doctor about my sleep issues. At the end of our appointment, which included a tetanus shot (:( ), a flu shot, and a blood draw, I brought up my sleep patterns. I handed her back the bottle of lorazepam that she prescribed to me in the days after Kyle's death...having only taken four and said that "benzos" do nothing for me except to remind me that they were a contributing factor in his death.

Did I mention that I love my doctor?

She took the lorazepam, updated my chart to indicate a "benzo" allergy, and discussed options. For the immediate future, she prescribed ambien with a note to see how to deal with this long-term.

Did I mention that I love my doctor?

I had some weird deadlines yesterday, so I did not take one on Monday night. Last night, I got cozy for bed and popped the ambien at 10:00...and woke up at 7:00 this morning. No haze, no grogginess, no fog. Just me, feeling like a million bucks.

Note to readers: this doesn't mean that I am adopting a "better living through chemistry" mantra. Just that sometimes we need a little help, and clearly I should have sought help several weeks ago.

A milestone...or possibly a huge mistake.

Today, I had my engagement ring cut off my finger.

I had been holding on to this one last piece of my marriage in an effort to fake it for the world to see.

When I got engaged in June 2002, my finger was a lot smaller - factor in the beginnings of osteoarthritis in my fingers, a couple lbs., and a few injuries and there was no way that sucker was coming off the traditional way.

My heart was heavy as I entered that jewelry store to ask for them to remove it. I felt like a failure knowing that I could not keep Bryan happy enough to want me in his life forever, but the ring(s) on my finger were also a constant reminder of the same.

I look back on the last thirteen months of my life and I am conflicted. Have I grown so much in the wake of all of the things that have happened, or am I merely reacting to everything around me and giving myself too much credit? I am selfish and self-centered, but not having to share my life with anyone else, is there any other way to be?

Yesterday I found out that the younger brother of a childhood friend died in the past few days. Like Kyle, Ross was one of the few little boys at the dance studio growing up. I see these two little blonde boys learning how to partner with perfectionist little girls, and I can't help but think that their lives ended far too soon.

They were supposed to have families, and in Kyle's case, my nieces and nephews. I can't help but to feel cheated for my own losses, and that feeling is multiplied by a thousand when I think of all the things they didn't have a chance to do.

Why them? Why now? I guess these are questions for which I'll never have an answer. So, instead I will accept a mantra to live life to the fullest, to ask for forgiveness to those I have wronged, and forgive those who have asked. In addition, I must remember that I am never alone.

Oh, and music for this week. To remind me that I am never alone:

"I was there to hear your borning cry,
I'll be there when you are old.
I rejoiced the day you were baptized,
to see your life unfold.
I was there when you were but a child,
with a faith to suit you well;
In a blaze of light you wandered off
to find where demons dwell."

"When you heard the wonder of the Word
I was there to cheer you on;
You were raised to praise the living Lord,
to whom you now belong.
If you find someone to share your time
and you join your hearts as one,
I'll be there to make your verses rhyme
from dusk 'till rising sun."

In the middle ages of your life,
not too old, no longer young,
I'll be there to guide you through the night,
complete what I've begun.
When the evening gently closes in,
and you shut your weary eyes,
I'll be there as I have always been
with just one more surprise."

"I was there to hear your borning cry,
I'll be there when you are old.
I rejoiced the day you were baptized,
to see your life unfold."

Apathy

It snowed this weekend. I think I love the snow. The world becomes a blank canvas...a beautiful white, fluffy world. I was amused until I had to clear my car. My frustration was short-lived, and once again I think I love the snow.

I went to see the Kirov Ballet at the Kennedy Center today. If you're following performances at the Kennedy Center, they're actually calling themselves the Mariinsky Ballet. During the second intermission, I ventured into the gift shop in the Hall of States. I came across a section of trinkets with the following quote:

Dance like nobody's watching

Love like you've never been hurt

Sing like no one is listening

Live like heaven on earth

Yeah, it's cheesy, but that didn't stop me from buying a journal and magnets. You see, that's how I want to live.

A blog telling parents that it is okay to not 'Carpe Diem' through life is floating around the internet. The author lets readers know that you don't need to seize every moment, using her whiny, defiant children as an example. I disagree, though. Why shouldn't you want to be the best you that you can be at every moment? I don't want to look back in twenty years (God willing) and regret anything. So, while everyone else is flirting with apathy and existence, I will be trying new things, meeting new people, and expanding my comfort zone.

Which leads me to my post about apathy -

When I got married, I didn't do it thinking that I would ever get a divorce. I know, I know, none of us plan to get divorced, but really, I thought I found my perfect partner. I was almost 27, and B and I started our whirlwind relationship almost eight years earlier.

As my life got busier, B traveled more frequently, and I continued to isolate myself from friends, I put on weight. Not a little bit of weight, a lot of weight. Rather than sporting me, B began to ignore me in favor of flirting with tinier, cuter girls, which led me to 'eat my feelings.' In a final ditch effort to make myself appealing to my husband, I threw myself into my job, earning accolades and a good reputation. It didn't work. Over time, I put up a wall and shield from any hurt he could cause. I truly became apathetic in my marriage.

Fast-forward a couple of years of yo-yo dieting with the same 10 lbs., and B woke up one day and verbalized what I assume he felt for a long time,

"I don't want to be married to you anymore."

"You are fat, you are insecure, and I have not been attracted to you for a long time."

I didn't even need to read between the lines. He was clear. And I started to feel apathetic about myself.

Two days later, I moved to Northern Virginia.

Slowly, I am learning to love myself. I am trying to challenge myself and learn about self-control. Since that fateful day that B said those things to me, I have lost about 25 lbs. I still have a long ways to go, but at least I am watching the scale move in the right direction.

Someday I'll see B (actually I've seen him several times since that day in April) and he'll see what he lost. I am doing this for me, and someday he will see that his efforts to tear me down failed.

I'm beautiful in my way

'Cause God makes no mistakes

I'm on the right track baby

I was born this way

Revamping this place...

I am changing up this place. Food doesn't mean nearly as much to me, especially now that I am on the "right" coast. There just isn't the same access to fresh, local food that I had in California's salad bowl. I am still conscious of what I eat, but like I said, priorities shift.

Recently, I began a journey to healing. In the process, I do not want to lose all of the memories related to the people in my life who I have lost in the past 13 months. A few weeks ago, I was working with the TV on in the background. A mattress company commercial came on, and I froze. A cover by Andrew Stein of the Beatles's In my Life was playing in the background. Here's his version - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hgqYv9vSNB0. As a Beatles fan, I enjoy bopping along to their light-hearted songs, but these previously innocuous lyrics assaulted me to core.

There are places I'll remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more
In my life I love you more

For several days thereafter, I listened to the Beatles version over and over again. Yes, I'd like a copy of Stein's version, but he has no plans to record anytime soon.

Anyway, I couldn't help but think of Kyle, my little brother who passed away in November 2011. While our lives have taken much different paths, I couldn't help but think of the thousands of days we spent together as children. I vividly remember the day he was born and naming the pink doll my grandmother gave me after him. I remember introducing him to my kindergarten class on his third birthday for show-and-tell. There is no way I will ever forget the hours I spent reading books to him when he was a toddler or trying to help him write the letter "e," a rather important letter if your name is Kyle and you have a sister Kellee.

I am rambling in my first post, so I will state my intended purpose with this blog. As a writer, I find the process of putting words on paper (or in this case, typing) a cathartic experience. At the same time, it gives me a place to record all of the memories I do not want to lose. One of the last times I spent with Kyle, he told me that I was losing my creativity and becoming too analytical...a harsh criticism for a writer. Hopefully, this will help me find my voice again.

<3