If the World was Ending

I wish I had a different life.

I just wish life was easier.

Those thoughts have been scrolling through my mind the last week.

I want Rory here.

I want to feel complete.

I want to feel hope.

It takes a lot of effort to get out of that headspace for me. Daily effort. Sometimes multiple times during the day effort.

Yesterday I was listening to a song about if the world was ending.

It removed my mind from the wishful future to the present.

If the world was ending, what would I think about my life right now? What would I wish I was doing differently? Or more of? Who do I wish was here?

One of the side effects of Rory’s death was a change in priorities.

Things that seemed important, lost their importance.

Time was a precious commodity. I had no idea how precious and limited it was.

But I’m left today with a better balanced present. (Well, COVID-19 has left the balanced skewed.)

If the world was ending, I’m exactly where I’d want to be. With the people I want to be with.

The future is so uncertain. The things I planned for, hoped for, work toward, feel out of my grasp. Like reaching for a raft that keeps floating farther and farther away.

But today. Today! I’m going to make it a goal to enjoy being in the water with those I love before I look toward the raft again.

If the world was ending… What would you want in your life?

Facebook Memories

As I was laying in a Las Vegas hotel room, this Facebook memory came up.

Two years ago.

In the same city.

Our lives were very different.

We had this small ceremony with just our family and Lance’s and my parents.

It was perfect for her.

Intimate.

Beautiful.

She was funny in that she wanted all the attention but also none of the attention.

She wanted full one-on-one attention but too many eyes on her or a stranger talking to her and she was hiding behind my leg.

I miss that silly smiling face.

That amazing girl.

I miss all those smiling faces.

Two years.

So much has changed.

Reasons

A couple of things happened in the summer of 2017.

The house market was up in our area. So my parents decided they were going to sell their house. (We were backyard neighbors.)

Lance got a new job that allowed him to work from home most of the time.

With those two items I told Lance, let’s sell our house and move closer to where our son’s gym. (His gym was an hour drive each way.)

In July we put the for sale sign out.

Then I got this feeling that I needed to put the kids in school across town. The thought was overwhelming.

If our house didn’t sell that would mean a 45 minute drive to and from school. Every day. And that didn’t count our gymnastics driving.

I decided if all the kids got into a charter school, we’d take the leap.

They all got in.

Then I thought this will be good. I’ll get Rory settled into school. Change is hard with AD/HD and anxiety. It’ll be good not to change schools mid year.

She has an IEP. It’ll be good to get that started at the beginning of the year and start working with her teacher.

Other than the 4 to 7 hours a day I was spending in the van, it was a great school.

But I felt like the move was for Rory.

November 10th we sold our house. My parents sold their house. We put a house across town under contract. We were moving at the beginning of December!

November 13th Rory passed away.

Our family with the bench that American Prep Academy dedicated to Rory.

Rory’s 3rd Grade Class. Teacher: Mrs. Bohls.

Then on November 20th when the boys went back to school, I discovered the real reason for the school switch that summer.

The boys wouldn’t be switching schools weeks after their sister died.

The school administrators rallied around them. One was a counselor before being a principal so he talked with me frequently.

Their teachers cared!

Not only about them but our whole family.

There wasn’t one more change in a life that already felt impossible for the boys.

I’m so grateful for that inspiration. And that we listened.

Eight Months

Time is weird.

I remember thinking in hours. Then days. Now months.

Eight of them.

Rory has been gone eight months today.

There are times I still count her to get tickets.

There are times I actually think she’s going to come around a corner.

Then there are times that being with her was a different life entirely.

Man, eight months.

I miss her.

Every minute.

Every hour.

Every day.

Every month.

New Van

I told Lance on July 3rd, “If I ever say that we should get a new van, we need to go get it.” Because one minute I’ll be ready for a new van. The next I’m hyperventilating.

So on the morning of July 4th, we were out getting sodas and I said, “Let’s get a new van.”

Lance practically drove straight there. We’ve been talking for a couple of years about what our next van would be so while it was kind of an impulse buy. It totally wasn’t.

So here’s our new Chrysler Pacifica Hybrid. It’s a pretty blue and way fancy.

We couldn’t quite get rid of our old van though. She’s part of the family. The twins will learn to drive with her in a year.

Side note story:

When we were in the Chrysler dealership there was this beautiful purple Jeep. Rory’s dream car! Sitting right show room!

I think it’s easy to see signs in things when you’re hoping for them. Other times it just seems too coincidental. What are the chances there would be a purple Jeep in the showroom?!?