Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes...

How do you measure a year?  The answer to this question, according to RENT, which happens to be one of my favorite musicals (natch), is that you measure a year in seasons of love.  I am always going to remember 2012 as the year in which I lost my love, but in many ways, I can still measure this atrocious year in the various sources and types of love that surround me.

2012 kicked off with so much promise.  JP, Max, Maddy and I spent NYE with my wonderful high school friends, who are like sisters to me, and their families (including not just husbands and kids, but siblings and cousins, too).  We had just gathered together to meet the newest addition to our group, and I was thrilled to be welcoming in the new year with my girls.  We put Max to bed and played board games, while Maddy snuck her big tongue into wine glasses.  I remember feeling so lucky, blessed, and excited to see what 2012 would bring.  There I was, with my perfect little family - sweet dog, perfect baby boy, married to my best friend - surrounded by friends, cocooned in love.

When my world crashed down around my ears, there were moments (and not the short kind) when I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest.  How would I ever experience love again when I had lost my true love, my best friend?  Over the past 10 1/2 months, I have learned important lessons about love, and how much of it I have in my life, in so many different forms.

First and foremost, I have Max.  As a mother, I get to experience a love that has no parallel.  Hearing Max say "mama" or "mommy" gives my heart wings, and seeing JP in him - in his face, his personality, his expressions and movements - is a constant reminder of the love that brought him into this world.  Not only that, but Max is a constant reminder that although JP is no longer physically with us, my love for him, and his love for me and Max, is not gone.  We will always have that.

And where would I be without the love of my family?  My parents have made so many sacrifices for us, and I am ashamed of how poor a job I do at showing them how much I appreciate everything they do for me and for Max.  I am so lucky to have such a loving, understanding family.  My parents have taken such amazing care of us.  They have such a special relationship with Max, and although it has been a challenge for all of us to adjust to my attempt to balance family, school, and a social life, they have been wonderful.  And let's face it - sometimes I need someone to reign me in.  As for my brother, he has been a rock for me.  He lets me vent about the frustrations that come from living with one's parents, and does a good job playing mediator when necessary.  Not to mention being an amazing uncle to Max.

But the family love doesn't stop there, of course.  I have the world's most wonderful mother in law.  Max's Grammy is a pillar of strength and amazingness.  Thinking about the losses she has suffered makes me so angry: losing her firstborn and her baby - how is it fair that someone so kind and wonderful should have to experience those tragedies?  And yet she has not lost her faith.  And she still manages to put everyone else before her, and take care of those around her.  I'm in awe of her, and I am so glad we are close.  Max has a wonderful family on his daddy's side of the family, and one of the intentions I have set for myself is to ensure that he has strong relationships with them.  His cousins are so wonderful, and seeing them with him does my heart good.

Then there are my friends, and JP's friends.  Listing all the ways in which our friends have shown how much they love me and loved JP would turn this into a novel.  Suffice to say that the acts of love have not let up as time has passed.  I read about widows whose friends seem to forget about the loss they have suffered and my heart breaks for them.  My friends are the absolute tops.  Those who knew him miss him, and they all show me every day in big and small ways how much they love and support me.

Of course no discussion of love could be complete without mention of Maddy.  My sweet baby girl.  JP loved her as much as any man has ever loved a dog.  And she and I have been through a lot together recently.  For a while I thought that 2012 was going to take my husband and our dog.  But Maddy and I fought back.  Her therapy team has given her a new lease on life, and while things are not easy for us, she is happy and sweet and I will continue to fight for her and provide her with the best care possible for as long as we have together.

Although I'm glad I can look at the past year and measure it in love, not just loss, I am glad to close the book on 2012.  2013 will not be without its trials and sorrows, but I look forward to the joys and healing it will no doubt bring as well.

And to bring it back to another lesson learned from musical theater...

Hasa Diga Eebowai

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Last year JP and I drove to Cape Cod to celebrate our first Christmas as a family.  We decided on the long drive rather than flying because we wanted to bring Maddy.  We were taking a long trip, and didn't want to be separated from her (no one would ever say we were the type of people for whom the dog became "just a dog" after the arrival of a baby).  So we loaded up the car with all the necessary items for holiday travel with a dog and infant, and made our way from Chicago, IL, to Falmouth, MA.  It was a wonderful trip.  We took lots of pictures with Max, and showed him the ocean for the first time (he loved the waves!).  We spent lots of time with JP's family, and rang in 2012 with my wonderful high school friends.  We were feeling so blessed, and so in tune with the holiday spirit.

I would give just about anything to go back to this time last year...

The holiday season this year pretty much kicked me in the gut, slammed me to the ground, and threw sand in my eyes.  Looking back over the past couple months, I am starting to see how much of an impact the awful specter of The First Holiday Season Without JP had on me.  I acted in ways that I regret.  I did things that I can't take back, the consequences of which are truly unfortunate.  I practiced a near-extreme version of escapism. And while I can't undo the things I did, I can focus on moving forward in a healthier way.  Coping with grief is incredibly difficult and complex, and there is no formula that says "at x point in time, you should feel y, and here's what to do if you start feeling z."  But I'm pretty sure that no self-help book and no therapist would have recommended pretending to be ok, or engaging in the distractions that I was favoring.

I have my work cut out for me - closing the door on this chapter, and working on being a better mother to an insanely wonderful toddler who is insanely attached to his grandmother.  I had envisioned lots of Max and Mama time over this break from school, but of course that hasn't really happened.  And the whole holiday thing has left me exhausted and unmotivated.

I have tried to get into the holiday spirit in small ways - dressing up for Crossfit, making my brother wear an elf hat to go with my Santa hat while running errands, decorating the tree, decorating cookies, even willingly putting on some Christmas carols here and there.  But my heart isn't in it.  Maybe next year, but right now I just don't have it in me.  And that's ok.  This is going to be the toughest year, I'm sure.  And once Max is old enough for Santa, I have a feeling I will be able to really get into the spirit - for him, and for JP, who loved Christmas, and always went over the top with gift-giving.

I went to Mass with my mom today.  I did enjoy seeing all the little kids in their cute outfits.  But as soon as the choir launched into O Come, All Ye Faithful, I started to weep.  Then I sort of went numb and tuned out the priest.  Then I actually fell asleep for a while.  There were times when I felt a sense of peace, but for the most part, I just wanted to get out of the church.  I looked at their little flyer about the past year.  They held 14 funerals.  I just sat there wishing that number had been 13, and I had been reading that fact while holding hands with JP.

My family will be celebrating Christmas on the 26th.  My dad is working tomorrow, and Max is too young to know the difference.   Tomorrow my brother and I will go to see Les Mis (yes, I will be seeing "the miserables" - the irony is not lost on me).  Max will open some presents (we will FaceTime with my MIL, in-laws, and nieces/nephews).  And we'll prep for Wednesday.

And I will get through it.  There will be tears, no doubt about that, but I will get through it.  And after the holidays, Max and I will be traveling to LA to visit a friend and her family, and I think that will be an incredibly healing trip for me.  Perfect timing - at the start of a new year, right before a new school semester, and at a time when I really need some time away, some time with someone who has been such a rock for me, and some binding time with Max.

I hope that everyone is able to find some peace and joy this season, and I wish the same for myself.

Speechless

This post is going to be disjointed.  That's just where my head is these days.

I'm not sure where to start.  Since Friday, I have felt physically ill with grief.  So many others have spoken so eloquently about the heroes of 12/14, about the tragic loss of innocent children, not to mention gun control and the state of mental health care in our country.  I have avoided much of it, I have to admit.  The past week has been, to put it mildly, a challenge for me, and it is impossible for me to view the events of 12/14 without seeing them through the distorted lens of my own grief journey and what I'm going through right now.

For a while after JP died, I was too consumed by my own devastation to process anyone else's sorrow, with the possible exception of my fellow young widows and widowers.  But recently I have noticed that the losses of others affect me in a much more profound way than I could have ever predicted.  I still don't know how to express this (there is something so unique about every person's situation, and I honestly can't even remember what, if anything, made much of a difference when I was early in the process).  What I do know is that the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary has left me feeling absolutely crushed.  Losing a child must be the only thing worse than being widowed at a young age (not to mention being widowed suddenly, and with a baby).  And as an only parent, I can't even let myself think about what would become of me if I were to lose Max.  Just the thought of it makes my throat close, chest constrict, and hands go weak.

When I learned about the shooting, I was sitting on my parents' couch in Florida looking for a flight back to Chicago for that afternoon, cutting my trip short by 3 days.  I had arrived on Wednesday, and from the minute I decided not to turn around on the jetway at Midway (mostly because I was afraid they would think I was a terrorist), I was regretting my decision to come down to the Sunshine State.  Not just because it was cold and rainy, and there was no cable or internet, and I had a million things I could have been doing in Chicago.  And not just because being there brought back memories of recent trips - for Christmas in 2010, when I was in the early stages of pregnancy, and this past spring/summer right after JP died and I sold the condo.  And not just because I didn't want to be there for the 15th, the 10-month "sadiversary."  It was a combination of all of that and a million other things as well.  I was hoping to get some good bonding time with Max, who is extremely attached to my parents, and without the option of doing things outside, that was just not going to happen.  I had gone down hoping to clear my mind, detox, and give myself some distance from things.  Instead, I was worrying about things that I couldn't take care of there (like yet another issue with the estate lawyer...)

Oh and it didn't help that at the Orlando airport I ended up having a conversation with a woman who turned out to be a widow (her husband died in February of 2011) and was originally from Springfield, MA, right near where I grew up.  When I told her that I was also a widow, she gave me a look I am so accustomed to by now, the pitying 'WHAT?  But you're so young!!!' look, and then asked me if I go to bereavement counseling.  When I replied, "no, but I do Crossfit, and working out is the best therapy for me," she looked at me like I was crazy pants, and told me that the holiday season would break me if I didn't go to counseling.  Wow, thanks.

So there I was, having been scolded about my choice of "therapy," feeling like a bit of a failure as a mom, and rushing headlong into holiday season and another month closer to the one-year mark.  No wonder I wanted to hightail it back to Chicago, where at least cold and dreary weather is expected and I had no shortage of projects to help me "shark" - or stay in constant motion to avoid thinking too much.

And then I had a vivid dream about JP.  It was only the 3rd or 4th I have had.  In the dream, I was working on some sort of project in a house, and was with a bunch of couples.  Suddenly, the men started getting sick and dying.  I was running around warning people - to save those who hadn't been infected or to allow couples to say goodbye (an opportunity we never had).  I went into a room and the guy was working on the closet, and he turned around, and it was JP.  My legs gave out, and he sat on the floor with me and hugged me.  He was smaller than he had been in real life, less broad shoulders and chest.  He was giving me this look - sort of a squint, sideways look, with a hint of a smirk, like "whaaaat are you up to?"  Anyone who knew him would know the look.  And he said to me, "it's going to be ok, and whatever you've done, it's ok."  I woke myself up sobbing, and that continued for a long time.  The next night, I didn't want to go back to sleep.  I still kind of don't.

I didn't think too much about the shootings on the trip back to Chicago.  I was too busy managing Max.  He was an absolute gem on the flight.  The parents of the 15 month old boy sharing a row with us were pretty vocal in expressing how jealous they were of Max's disposition.  I can't remember if I shared my situation with them, but I do know that when they announced how exhausted they were from the flight with their kid, I wanted to smack them.  They were traveling with the guy's parents, so there were 4 of them to one baby.  And honestly, he wasn't even that wild.

Anyway, once I was in the car, I turned on the news.  And then to give myself a break, I flipped to a music station.  A Linkin Park song came on - Iridescent.  Here are the lyrics:

You were standing in the wake of devastation

And you were waiting on the edge of the unknown

And with the cataclysm raining down

Insides crying, "Save me now"

You were there, impossibly alone

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?

You build up hope, but failure’s all you’ve known

Remember all the sadness and frustration

And let it go. Let it go

And in a burst of light that blinded every angel

As if the sky had blown the heavens into stars

You felt the gravity of tempered grace

Falling into empty space

No one there to catch you in their arms

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?

You build up hope, but failure’s all you’ve known

Remember all the sadness and frustration

And let it go. Let it go

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation?

You build up hope, but failure’s all you’ve known

Remember all the sadness and frustration

And let it go. Let it go

Oh my god.  I mean, this song is basically my anthem now.  

When I got home, I fed and bathed Max, we watched a little bit of Rudolph, and when I went to bed I brought him into my room because I needed to be close to him.  It would have been sweet, had he not been doing sleep acrobatics.  I woke up to see him fast asleep in down dog, or with his legs over my face, flopping all over.  

The next day, the 15th, was the 10-month mark.  I spent most of the day in a haze.  I was glad to be home with Max, and he didn't seem to mind my chaotic project-tackling.  I cut up a bunch of shirts for the memory quilt, which was no easy task.  I went through some boxes.  I even dug through a bag of sympathy cards trying to find a poem that had stood out to me, to share with a friend whose father passed away suddenly recently.  

Despite everything, I have been trying to find the spots of light in the darkness I feel has been consuming me over the past few days.  Focusing so much on  Max has been the big one.  He is so entertaining, so bright, and it's so fun seeing him talking and pointing things out.  Being on our own made me feel a little more confident that when I'm working and my parents aren't living with us, we'll be just fine.  We make a pretty good team, not to mention a ridiculously good looking one.  

(Or at least a ridiculous one that likes to play with hats...)

I don't expect to feel better soon.  I know the whole holiday season is going to be incredibly difficult.  I will have to dig deep to pretend to share in the joy of the season for Max's sake, but I will do it.  I will do my best to shield him from the shadow of my own grief and that of our whole nation in the wake of this devastating event.  I'm not going to forget, but since he is too young to understand some things, but old enough to understand others, I have to make the choice to work on instilling the magic of the season in my little guy.

In the Driver's Seat

Anyone who has ever been in a car that I've been driving can attest to the fact that I am a Terrible driver.  Ever since I got my license, someone else has always driven my car.  I was a day student at a predominantly boarding school, and since boarders weren't allowed to drive on campus, I would drive to the edge of the parking lot and switch seats with my friend Emily.  My signature move, when I was forced to man the wheel, was to sit waiting to make a left turn when there was no traffic, and then suddenly peel out in front of a Mack truck.  And then there was the narcolepsy.  I literally ran off the road one day on my way to school, and we were all just lucky that I swerved off the road instead of into the oncoming traffic. 

JP never let me drive.  Unlike me, he was an excellent driver, and enjoyed driving.  I seriously can only remember two times when I was allowed to take the wheel - once was when I was 6 months pregnant and we'd been at a wedding, and the other was when we were driving 2 hours to spend NYE with my friends.  We had driven from Chicago to Cape Cod (second time making that drive, and he didn't let me behind the wheel for even a minute).  Not surprisingly, he wasn't really looking forward to another 4 hour commute to spend one night with my friends.  One of us had to be in the back seat with Max, and he thought he was making me pay for insisting that we go by having me drive.  Little did he know how awful it was being cramped in the back seat!  Needless to say, he drove us back the next day.

I never had to think about limiting my alcohol intake when we drove to meet up with people.  I never had to worry about what parking would be like, or anything like that.  Never had to know how to get anywhere.  Now I'm in the driver's seat.  Ok, I might rely on GPS for directions, but I've definitely been working on parallel parking (won't say I've seen any marked improvement yet...)  It still feels weird.

And I'm in the driver's seat for everything now.  I have to make the decisions.  I have to consult the map, come up with a plan.  For me, and for Max.  It's overwhelming, and I know I've been practicing some escapism to not think about the reality of the situation.  Sure, I have a great support system to go to for advice and consultation, but at the end of the day, I’m the one behind the wheel.  I'm the one who has to decide whether we turn or go straight.

I had a mini-meltdown the other night, and realized that while spending a week partying and enjoying being done with finals was all well and good, I need to tone it down and act like an adult.  I have to take control.  I’m not in the passenger seat anymore, and I’ve got precious cargo on board. 

Will I still give myself permission to blow off steam?  Absolutely.  But I can’t let that part interfere with my efforts to learn how to drive this big rig I’m captaining now.

Shake it Like a Polaroid Picture

December was not off to a good start for me.  Last night I went out for a friend's birthday, which we all thought was also going to be a "Congrats on getting engaged" party until she walked in and said "hi, I'm not engaged."  Being the good pals we are, we proceeded to interrogate her boyfriend and demand that he speed up his popping-the-question timeline.  Did I mention that a couple of us had never met him?  Yeah, he must think we are crazy bitches.

Anyway, my plan to have a few beers and head home early turned into staying out late and consuming massive amounts of champagne.  When November rolled over into December, I was deep in conversation about travel with a very nice guy to whom I may have given the wrong idea.

Woke up this morning with a throbbing headache.  Champagne gets me every time.  I think the only time I have escaped the Champagne headache was when I got married.  And wouldn't you know - this morning my dad was working in the suburbs and my mom had to drive him because we needed the car to take Max to the pediatrician.  So the one morning when I'm on solo Max duty, I feel like my brain is about to start leaking out of my ears.  Fortunately, he slept until 8, and by then the Advil had kicked in.

So Max is going through a serious attachment phase.  But he's not attached to me - he's attached to my parents.  Whenever he's with me, he screams and cries.  This, as you can imagine, makes me feel just wonderful.  Not only do I not get to spend time with my toddler, but when I do, he's in tears.  Because he hates me.  I mean, I know that's not true, and soon I will be on a break from school and can focus on spending time with him.  We have lots of fun things planned for my winter break, so that will be good.

I spent the afternoon at school, working on my statistics case study.  Not fun.  Especially since I felt like a zombie.  Even after a coffee, I fell asleep on the desk, and woke up literally drooling on the floor.  But I got as close to finishing as I could, so at least it was productive.

Things took a turn for the better when I went to my friend's Zumbathon, benefiting the American Brain Tumor Association - in honor of her husband, who passed away in March.  It was a great event!  Lots of people came, there were 9 different instructors keeping everyone moving for an hour and a half.  I had an absolute blast.  It was fun seeing some different styles from my regular class, and everyone seemed to be really enjoying themselves.  I don't know when the last time was that I sweat so much!  I mean, I'm sure it happens in Crossfit, but I was Dripping.  And for the cool down, she did "Some Nights," which of course got me a bit teary, but she was amazing, smile on her face, and I know that her husband was watching her and being so incredibly proud of her.  Melissa, you are truly an inspiration.

So now I will conclude the first day of December with some studying for my final on Monday.  Good times.

And I'll leave you with the song lyrics:

Some Nights - by fun.

Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck
Some nights, I call it a draw

Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle
Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off

But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure, what I stand for oh oh oh
What do I stand for? Oh what do I stand for?
Most nights, I don't know anymore
Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa oh oh
Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa oh oh

This is it, boys, this is war, what are we waiting for?
Why don't we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype, 
Save that for the black and white I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked, 
But here they come again to jack my style

That's alright, I found a martyr in my bed tonight
Stops my bones from wondering just who I, who I, who I am, oh who am I, mm, mm

Well some nights, I wish that this all would end
'Cause I could use some friends for a change
And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again
Some nights, I always win, I always win

But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh
What do I stand for? Oh what do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know (come on)

So this is it? I sold my soul for this?
Washed my hands of that for this?
I miss my mom and dad for this?
No. When I see stars, when I see stars, that's all they are
When I hear songs, they sound like a swan, so come on
Oh, come on, oh, come on, oh come on!

Well that is it, guys, that is all, five minutes in and I'm bored again
Ten years of this, I'm not sure if anybody understands
This is not one for the folks at home, I'm sorry to leave, mom, I had to go
Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?
My heart is breaking for my sister and the con that she called "love"
But when I look into my nephew's eyes,
Man you wouldn't believe, the most amazing things, that can come from,
Some terrible nights, ah (oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh oh)

Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh oh
Oh whoa, oh whoa, oh whoa, oh oh

The other night, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had about you and me
I called you up, but we'd both agree
It's for the best you didn't listen
It's for the best we get our distance, oh
It's for the best you didn't listen
It's for the best we get our distance, oh

'Tis the Season

The day after Thanksgiving means the official start of the Christmas holiday season.  Yes, I realize that there are other holidays in this season, but Christmas is the one with the Hallmark-music-commercialism stranglehold on us.

Thanksgiving day itself was not as bad as I had expected.  I started the day with a "Turkey WOD" at Crossfit.  That was a good, if punishing, start to the day.  After that, it was down to business.  Cooking, cooking, cooking.  It was good - I stayed busy.  Of course I was thinking about last year, our first Thanksgiving as a family.  Max wasn't eating solids yet then.  We didn't get a great family picture, but figured we had every year moving forward for that.  We figured we had time for a lot of things.  

JP would have Loved the Patriots-Jets game.  From the ridiculous pictures of Brady and Wilfork to the "Sanchez Butt Fumble" as my friend dubbed it, to all the amazing plays by the Pats and the comedy of errors executed by the Jets, it was my favorite game of the season.  I mean, watching Sanchez twirl in a circle and realize he called a different play from what he was going for, clothesline himself on his own player's ass, fumble, and the Pats take it back for a TD?  I was in tears laughing.  So much better than when I was in tears on the street corner wishing JP was here for this holiday.

Black Friday was off to a good start.  Don't get me wrong - I did not join the crowds frothing at the mouth for deals and steals at big box stores...With the exception of a trip outside with Maddy, I stayed in bed until almost 10am (can't remember the last time that happened).  By 11:30 I was out with friends for the annual post-Thanksgiving flag football game.  It was COLD.  After so many days of unseasonably warm weather, 36 degrees was tough.  I was both over- and under-dressed.  Too many pairs of pants, too many layers on top, no hat.  But the most amazing thing happened - I ran with Maddy.  Maddy, who has barely been able to walk lately.  Granted, as my friend said, she ran like a rabbit (both back legs moving in unison), but we were sprinting and it was the most exhilarating 60-second run I have ever experienced.  I am so thankful that I got to experience that!  And flag football was fun.  I'm so glad I played, and I know JP would have wanted me to.  After the game, a bunch of people gathered at my friends' house for leftovers, beer, and good company.  It was nice.  But it's also probably good that I had to take Maddy to therapy.  Otherwise, it's very likely that I would have gotten day drunk.  The nicest part was that a lot of my friends were wearing the shirts made in memory of JP for the softball team, the same ones that Erik and Max wore yesterday.

And then came the evening...we went to a holiday variety show.  I thought it was going to be a comedy, and there were some funny parts, but all in all, it was really quite awful for me.  It made me realize how hard this season is going to be to get through.  I sat there just trying to sneak peeks at my dad's watch and counting down until it would end.  When we got home, I waited for the others to finish talking about the show (seriously, the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it), and then did something I have never done - had beers alone, in my pajamas, in bed.  I was texting with a friend who was drinking in a more appropriate venue, and tried to tell myself that it was like we were drinking together, but really I was getting drunk in bed.  The worst part was that I kind of enjoyed it.  But don't worry - I will not be making a habit of this!

Despite the terrible variety show, the holiday was very nice.  It was great seeing my brother and his girlfriend, and seeing Max with his uncle was so fun.  He even started saying "uncle."  So cute!  Unfortunately, I did zero homework, and am now in a bit of a pickle with finals here, and feeling a bit overwhelmed - 10-page paper due Wednesday, stats case study about to be assigned, final on Monday, team presentation next Wednesday...ugh.  But at least all this work will eat up some of the dreaded holiday season.

Thanks for the Memories

And so Thanksgiving is upon us.  It's that day of the year when families and friends gather around a table laden with a cornucopia of starches, prepared the "traditional" way - which is to say, the way that will most efficiently block your arteries.  The day when we stumble over to the TV to watch football with a beer in hand, waiting to be able to fit in one more slice of pumpkin pie, in a state of tryptophan-induced semi-consciousness.

It's the day when we give thanks for all the blessings in our lives.

And that is one thing that I have been having a very hard time with, for obvious reasons.

Making it even worse, social media allows me to see all the wonderful things people in my FB network are thankful for EVERY DAY leading up to Turkey Time.  I want to be happy for them.  But part of me wants to provide a daily list of the things I am not thankful for: the fact that I go to sleep and wake up alone (or, actually, with a dog in a diaper who needs to be rushed outside before there are any accidents); the fact that Max will never read a book or toss a ball with his daddy; and the list goes on, of course.

So today I am trying to take a step away from my little pity party to remind myself how much I do have to be thankful for this year.  Because, in truth, there is a lot.  Here are just some of the things I am thankful for:

I am thankful for Max.  I am thankful that he is a happy, healthy, easygoing toddler.  I'm thankful that there is so much of JP in him - not just that Maheras nose, but the charm and hammy personality.  Not only is he the cutest little peanut, but he is just so fun, engaging, and interesting.  I could write a book about how amazing he is.  I'm thankful that a piece of JP will live on in Max.  I'm so thankful that JP left me with the most wonderful gift of all - our little "precious miracle" ;)  He is such an amazing little kid, and I am lucky to be his mom.

I'm thankful for my parents, who deserve sainthood for everything they have done and continue to do for me and for Max.  We are lucky to have them here, and though we may have our clashes, I do appreciate everything they do for us.  And I know that they know all about how to raise a perfect child :)  I could also write a book on how amazing my parents are and how lucky I am to have them as my main support system.

I'm thankful for my brother, who has always been there for me, and especially so in the past 9 months.  I am thankful that he and Kelly are spending this holiday with us.  Seeing Max with Uncle Erik is truly a gift, and I'm so glad that Erik and I have such a close relationship.  

I'm thankful for my extended family - my amazing mother-in-law, who is one of the strongest individuals I have ever met.  She is truly an inspiration to me, and I can only hope to exhibit a fraction of the grace she demonstrates as we help one another through this sad journey.  Also, my amazing nieces, who had such a special relationship with their uncle, and to whom I feel so close.  And of course my own relatives, who have been so great and supportive.  From Waukesha to Mali, I definitely feel the love.

I'm thankful for my friends: old friends, new friends, and somewhere-in-the-middle friends.  I consider myself so lucky to have friends from both high school and college who are like sisters to me.  My Chicago group is amazing - when I first moved out here, I wondered whether I would like JP's buddies' wives.  I was more than pleasantly surprised, and these are the people who made my decision to stay in Chicago after I lost JP a no-brainer.  I'm thankful for the fact that my friends are people who will let me vent, who will let me talk about what is on my mind, who will get me out of the house, and who don't judge me for what I do, or what I say when my filter is off and the widow mouth is running.  My friends are absolutely amazing people, and sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to have all these wonderful people in my life.

I'm thankful for the fact that Maddy is doing really well these days.  Her therapy is working, and she is looking stronger, happier, and more energetic than she was a month ago.

I'm thankful for the fact that I'm able to be in school right now, working to finally settle into a career and create a bright future for Max.  Hopefully it will lead to my being able to do something I love after getting my degree.

I'm thankful for Crossfit.  Anyone who knows me has seen what Crossfit has done for me physically, but it is my mental and emotional therapy as well.  I am so lucky to have amazing coaches who have been such a wonderful support system for me.  Even on my worst days, going to a Crossfit class completely elevates my mood.  Through Crossfit, I have met some incredible people and forged friendships that have been instrumental in getting me through some very tough times.

I'm thankful for the fact that what I have been through in the past 9 months did not completely destroy me.  There was a time when I would have thought that I would not be able to survive this loss.  But I guess that if I was really that type of girl, JP never would have married me.  I'm thankful that I'm as strong as he knew I was, and not as weak as I thought I was.

I am thankful for every moment I had with JP.  I'm thankful for all of the crazy nights we had in NYC: our somewhat random/chance meeting; the Blackout of 2003; so many nights at Houston's, Blue Smoke, Automatic Slims, and Black Bear Lounge; and the many trips to the box at Yankee Stadium (where we first officially met).  I'm thankful for the trips we took together - I look forward to taking Max to those places someday.  I'm thankful for all the nights we spent together, falling asleep holding hands, and for the fact that we never went to sleep mad at one another.  I'm thankful for the way we fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.  I'm thankful for all the time we spent cheering for our teams, whether at World Series games at Fenway or just texting late at night about playoff games happening on the West Coast.  (I'm thankful that we were both New England fans!)  I'm thankful that he brought me to Chicago, and for all the memories I have of him in this city: all of the parties we threw; the baseball games and street festivals; museum trips and various athletic endeavors; but mostly the nights we spent just hanging out - the two of us, then with the dog, and finally as a family.  I'm thankful for all the silly things he would do to make me laugh; they still bring a smile to my face, and I look forward to telling Max all about his quirks and antics.  I'm thankful that he got to experience most of Max's first holidays, and that we had 7 1/2 wonderful months together as a family.  He loved being a dad, and despite the lack of sleep and challenges of being new parents, we were never happier than when Max came into our lives.  I'm thankful for the way he made me feel - safe and relaxed, and like I was "home" when I was with him.  I'm thankful for the person he helped me become - a better, stronger, more mature person than I was when we met.  I'm thankful for the love we shared, and the family we created.  And I'm thankful that our last interactions were positive: he walked Maddy that morning and I remember just thinking that was so nice of him, and our last texts were about Max - I sent a picture and told him that Max was interested in how he could move the door, and JP wrote back, "Hey, kiddo."

I no longer put much stock in the saying that "everything happens for a reason," but I am thankful for all the pieces that fell into place leading me to meet JP.

And I'm thankful that I have him watching over me and Max.

Decisions, Decisions

The topic we covered in my Organizational Behavior class last week was decision making.  Coincidentally, I have recently been making some terrible decisions.  For starters, I decided to ignore my homework all weekend, and therefore am scrambling to get ready for a presentation tomorrow, and forgot to do a discussion post for my Monday class until 10 minutes before class.  As you might imagine, it was a pathetic effort.  And I'm upset about it because I have made SO MANY GIANT DECISIONS in the past 9 months.  But at the time, I just panicked and spewed something about how I decided to go to Amherst.  Ugh.

I was going to say something about some of the less-than-stellar decisions I've been making recently, but I think I won't.  I've decided that I get a free pass, for a while anyway, and I'm not going to apologize.  I will just say this - it's a good thing I am not cursed with a guilt complex.

Anyway.  So here we are at the holidays.  I've been basically avoiding thinking about it.  Since the last time I posted, I've had a couple of tough days.  Election day was harder than I'd expected.  JP lived and breathed politics, and while we did not see eye-to-eye on everything, it was always a learning experience to watch the results with him.  I didn't vote this year.  Partly because I didn't get my voter registration updated in time, but also partly because I didn't feel strongly that either candidate was all that impressive.  But I didn't expect the day to hit me as hard as it did.  It sucked.

There was also the Remembrance Mass on All Souls Day.  All the pictures of older folks, and then my dashing husband.  I used a picture from our wedding day.  My amazing friends met me out for pizza beforehand, and Max had such a great time.  He was very well behaved during the Mass, as were all the kids who were there.  When I went up to light a candle for JP, even though he had mostly been sitting with other folks, Max started screaming, so I took him.  That was a tough walk.  I could just feel everyone feeling sorry for me.  Ugh.  But between my friend group and JP's colleagues who came, there were about 25 of us and I was so touched.  After, some of my girls joined me for wine, which was a good way to wrap up.

Then there was the 9-month anniversary, November 15th.  That was awful.  I had some sobbing-in-fetal-position breakdowns in the morning and then just started doing what I like to call "sharking" - basically staying in constant movement.  Because if I stopped, I would cry.  I organized and cleaned the kitchen.  I reorganized my closet.  I took Max out for a play date.  I went to Crossfit.  I took a yoga class (for the first time in SO LONG).  And then I wrote to JP in the journal I have in which I write letters to him.  It went from every day to every other, to...the last time I had written was on our wedding anniversary.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe because it makes me sad, maybe because I'm just so tired.  I don't know.

Yesterday I went to an early Thanksgiving at my aunt's house.  It was fun seeing my cousins, and Max had a ball playing with their kids.  But my aunt had set two extra settings at the table by accident.  She figured one had been because she was thinking my dad was going to be there, but then was like "who else are we missing?" and it just made me sad.  Because JP is who we were missing.

Anyway, I made it through that.  And the holiday itself will be busy, with my brother and his girlfriend arriving Wednesday.  It won't be easy, but at least I'll be sharking.

There have been good things since my last update, too.  I've been going out and acting like I'm in college, which is actually quite fun.  Spending time with friends, getting in some good Max time.  Lots of Crossfit.  On Saturday I participated in a fundraiser called Fight 2 Give, which benefited the Wounded Warrior Project and World Sport Chicago, which helps introduce kids to sports.  It was a tough workout, but I'm glad I signed up at the last minute.  JP did it last year, so it really was fitting that I did it this year.

Halloween Queen

Anyone who knows me (shoot, anyone who has met me in passing, really) knows that I love Halloween.  I get weirdly obsessed with it, come mid-October.  I am way more into Halloween than all other holidays combined.  Candy and Costumes - what could be better?

JP also loved Halloween.  I mean, he pretended that he only got into it for me, but he always put a lot of (last-minute) effort into his costumes.  And I know for a fact that one year he and some of his friends were Crash Test Dummies, and drove his jeep around DC with the top down.  Hilarious.  Anyway, here is a little trip down memory lane of our Halloweens together (sorry if I've already posted some of these!)

Halloween 2003 (NYC) - must have been late in the night...I was a wood nymph and JP was a proctologist.

2004 (NYC) - we put our vampire garb on, went out to watch the Patriots game (we were the only people in costume in the bar, and then watched the parade.

2005 (?) - San Francisco.  So much fun!

2008 (yeah, I'm missing a couple years - oops!) - we had just gotten married, and this was my version of him as a battered husband - we went to the parade and a bar after.

2008 again - this time JP did his battered husband makeup, and I was Sarah Palin.

2009 - at our friend Lizzie's house.  Zombie bride and Stewie.

Maddy at Southport Halloween (2010)

2011 - talk about freaks!  Here I am as Alex from A Clockwork Orange and JP as the Joker

More 2010 - I wore a Hamburglar outfit to the Mayor's Halloween Ball.

 2011 - Hamburglar and Hamburger 

 2011 - JP was sick, but he took pics before chef, hamburger, and lobster braved the crowded streets.

2012 - elephant and clown

Yes, I'm ridiculous and went to Crossfit in my clown suit.

Anyway, even though Halloween is over, I have one more costume party.  And I'm glad that I was able to get into the spirit this year.  It was touch-and-go for a while.  I lost my inspiration and motivation, but it came back big time, and ended up being infectious.

I will always treasure the memories of the Halloweens we shared.  And I will always miss JP at this time of year.  But I have to say - it was good to enjoy the holiday.  It gave me hope for getting through the next round of holidays without too much trauma...