Letters For Lucas

Wonders, Mishaps, Blunders and Joy.. commentary on my life as a mom in the form of letters to my son

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Mysterious Ways

Posted on February 10, 2011 Written by Tonya

I could never have imagined that my parents would not meet my son.

It didn’t once enter my thought process when I dreamed about having a family. In my mind, two sets of grandparents were always part of that equation.

Being a parent without parents never ever crossed my mind.

They should be here.

My son should have two sets of grandparents.

My mother and father should know Lucas.

Lucas should know my mother and father.

He will.

Lucas will know my parents through me and my husband and my sister and anyone else that wants to tell him about what amazing people they were. He’ll hear that he reminds us of them in small ways; like a simple expression on his face that looks just like one my mother would make when she was giddy with excitement and big ways, too, like Lucas’ insatiable curiosity that was so similar to my father’s and how they were taken from all of us too soon.

But it’s not the same.

Lucas is missing being able to go to a Red Sox game with my dad, hear first hand about the small town in Texas where he grew up. He is missing learning about stamp collecting, how to make the perfect Orange Julius and the intrigue of film-noir movies.

Lucas is missing holding my mother’s soft hands, devouring her scrumptious chocolate chip cookies and celebrating each and every holiday with gusto, as only she knew how.

Lucas is missing out on so much.

But they are missing out too.

I have a beautiful, smart, funny, awesome son and just once, I’d love for my parents to able to hear his magical laughter every time I chase him around the park.

Losing my mother and father at such an early age, mine and theirs respectively, is unfathomable. But, sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways and the unfathomable happens. I lost my parents and less than a year later became pregnant with Lucas. I suffered the greatest loss of my life and then gained light and hope and more joy than I ever thought my heart could hold.

I could never have imagined that my parents would not meet my son or that they wouldn’t be here longer than they were, but the way I used to think changed and then the whole world shifted.

If want to know more about how I lost my parents, please read For My Broken Heart.

This post is for The Red Dress Club’s writing meme, Red Writing Hood. This weeks prompt was to write a post that begins with the line, “I could never have imagined” and ends with the line, “Then the whole world shifted.”

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Filed Under: difficult subjects, grandparents, KRA, loss, love, MSA, red writing hood Tagged With: difficult subjects, grandparents, KRA, loss, love, MSA, red writing hood

Gone Too Soon

Posted on January 28, 2011 Written by Tonya

It’s been 1201 days since my parents died.

1201 days? That seems like an eternity to me when I think of all they’ve missed.

Then again, 1201 days really isn’t that much time at all when I think of how fresh the loss is in my heart.

I often worry that I’ll forget what they sounded like and looked like, but both are etched in my brain and woven throughout my memories.

I carry them with me everywhere and I ache to hear their voices again and dread each and every single anniversary, birthday and other special occasion they are missing. But it is the mundane everyday life events that they are missing that make me the saddest.

1201 days later and I am still pressing on.

I press on for my sanity, for Lucas’ sake and for them, because that is what they’d want me to do.

My father would have been 64 today.

Michael Stephen Adams

January 28, 1947 – October 15, 2007


Rest In Peace.

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Filed Under: KRA, loss, love, milestones, MSA

Rabbit Hole

Posted on January 24, 2011 Written by Tonya

Todd and I saw Rabbit Hole a couple of weeks ago staring Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart and I’m still thinking about it. To me, that’s what good movies do; make you think and stay you for days to follow.

I thought the performances were very good, but I disagree with all the buzz Kidman is getting for her role as a grieving mother. Of course, I didn’t think Annette Bening deserved the Golden Globe for Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy for The Kids Are All Right either, so what do I know?

At any rate, Rabbit Hole allows us a glimpse into one couples lives as they deal with the loss of their four year old son, who runs into the street after the family dog and is hit by a car.

The couple is grieving in their own way and at their own pace and it almost destroys their marriage.

Horrific to think about, but always up for a good mental exercise, Rabbit Hole prompted some interesting and insightful discussion for our car ride home, another sign of a good movie.

Could our marriage survive the loss of a child? Hard to say. We agreed that it would require the utmost patience and understanding that either of us could muster and that it would most definitely be the hardest thing that we would ever have to go through. A parent should never have to bury a child. Every time you looked at one another you would have a living reminder. It’s a difficult scenario to imagine.

But that’s not the part that has stuck with me.

There is moment when Becca (Kidman) finally lets go of some of her pent up emotional control, breaks down and asks her mother, Nat (played brilliantly by Dianne Weist), who has also suffered the loss of a child, about her pain and the weight of it. The dialogue is breathtaking and the message is haunting:

Becca: Does it ever go away?

Nat: No, I don’t think it does. Not for me, it hasn’t – has gone on for eleven years. But it changes though.

Becca: How?

Nat: I don’t know… the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and… carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you… you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and – there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be aweful – not all the time. It’s kinda…

[deep breath]

Nat: not that you’d like it exactly, but it’s what you’ve got instead of your son. So, you carry it around. And uh… it doesn’t go away. Which is…

Becca: Which is what?

Nat: Fine, actually.

I thought that this was such a beautiful way to describe grief and loss and where it goes after time. I am still learning to live with the passing of my parents. It’s been almost three and a half years. I know I will remember these words from Rabbit Hole and I look forward to finding my “fine”, my peace some day.

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Filed Under: loss, movie review, quotes

Ceramic Mugs

Posted on November 29, 2010 Written by Tonya

I started packing on Friday in an effort to burn off calories consumed on Thanksgiving and so that our impending move seems more real to me. I’m excited, I’m just in denial.

I started in the kitchen and quickly had five boxes full of linens, pots, pans, glassware, bake ware, wine and water glasses, water bottles and ceramic coffee mugs.

I don’t drink coffee and Todd, who only drinks iced coffee, uses glass mugs. Why I keep carting these ceramic mugs around from address to address is beyond me. Some were gifts and others were souvenirs. When I remember, I’ll use one for hot chocolate or chamomile tea, but otherwise they collect dust and every three years or so, get wrapped up in newspaper and moved to a new home, where they will once again sit on a top shelf and wait to be used.

With each move, I try to get rid of one. I am down to six.

There are two that I will never part with because my mother made them.

Ironically, she didn’t drink coffee out of them either, but her favorite diet soda.

I don’t remember my mother being a very creative person, but she did teach Kindergarten – third grade, so she knew how to do simple arts and crafts. She sewed a lot when I was really little and made me and my dolls matching clothes and I always had homemade Halloween costumes.

During the early years of her marriage to my father, she was really into painting ceramics à la Color Me Mine. It was the 70’s after all.

Sadly, all I have are a few figurines and these two mugs.They’re ugly, weren’t made for the microwave and aren’t dishwasher safe, but right there in the middle of my gung ho packing day, I had to stop and have a cup of hot chocolate in one of my mother’s mugs.

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Filed Under: KRA, loss, memories, move

Loss

Posted on November 24, 2010 Written by Tonya

We lose hair, weight, sleep, contact, keys, sunglasses, luggage, races, games, arguments, jobs, money, homes, our place in line, our way, our will power, our balance, our sanity, our minds, our cool, our nerve, our courage, our voice, our faith, ourselves, people we love and people that never will be.

Sometimes our losses are little and will soon be discovered exactly where we left them or they become life lessons to learn and grow from. They become a part of who we are.

Other times they are almost too great to bear and leave us asking why and endless other questions.

I would like to think that a really big devastating loss means that a really big wonderful win is just around the corner.

This Thanksgiving eve, with hope in my heart, I pray our wins always outweigh our losses.

We give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way. ~ Author Unknown

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Filed Under: annoyances, death, loss

No Words

Posted on November 8, 2010 Written by Tonya

Listening to all of the eloquent speeches on TV at the memorial service honoring San Diego police officer Chistopher Wilson last week, I realized nobody spoke at my parents memorial service.

We should have asked someone to say something.

Their deaths were so untimely and tragic that I’d like to believe that everyone in attendance was in just as much shock as we were.

After all, there were no words.

I should have said something though.

I really wanted to, but I just couldn’t make my legs stand up to walk to the front of the room.

Where were my words?

Talk about shocking, we only expected 10 people to show up and instead there were maybe 60. A pretty good turn out considering my parents died overseas and didn’t know that many people in Tucson.

We were pleased that my dad’s brothers and their wives and some of their children made the trip from Texas and I was comforted that my in-laws were there and felt nothing but loved when I saw my closet girlfriends. To this day, having them there with me on the darkest day of my life, is one of the kindest gestures I have known.

The obituary ran the same day, October 21, 2007 and my phone rang all morning. The service was held at 2:00 and people all over were finding out for the first time, yet I had known for seven days by then.

In those seven days, along with my sister and husband, we selected urns, chose photos for a montage, put together a CD of my parents favorite music, created the text for the program, edited the obituary and bought something to wear to the dreadful event.

I will never forget the shopping trip that Leah and I made to buy those dresses. We were numb and we didn’t care, so we chose the ugliest black dresses we could find knowing that while we may never get rid of them, we would never ever wear them again.

As soon as my husband saw them, he marched us right back to the mall to return them for more flattering ones. I am really glad he did that.

What would we have done without our voice of reason? There are no words to express my gratitude and love for Todd, who was an absolute rock throughout the entire process, not just that week, but for weeks and months to follow.

I wish I said something at the service.

There were no words, but still I should have gotten up and had the courage to, at the very least, thank everyone for coming.

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In Memoriam

Posted on October 15, 2010 Written by Tonya

Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.
– Eskimo Proverb

Kathryn Ruppert Adams
November 10, 1948 – October 15, 2007

Michael Stephen Adams
January 28, 1947 – October 15, 2007

Rest In Peace.

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In Treatment

Posted on October 14, 2010 Written by Tonya

I have been dreading writing about this because I haven’t got my head fully wrapped around it yet, so please bear with me and as always, any words of advice and/or comfort that you can offer would be greatly appreciated.

Shortly after my parents died, I was somewhat desperate to help my sister find a psychologist to help her with her grief and in the process contacted a doctor that I saw for a while leading up to and after my divorce from my first husband.

I still feel bamboozled by her receptionist when she asked me “what about you?”. To which, I of course replied, “what do you mean, ‘what about me’?”.

Before I knew it I was seeing the good doctor again once a week for almost a year, half a dozen times leading up to Lucas’ arrival and it’s now been eight months since my last appointment.

I need her again.

I am a big proponent of therapy. I believe working with a professional can help provide insight, support and new strategies for all types of life challenges. In the past it has helped me immensely and I am lucky to have a doctor that I trust and respect. Dr. K. is a family therapist and specializes in family and marital counseling, stress management and grief.

Since spring, I haven’t been myself and it’s time to do something about it.

I’m moodier than usual, short tempered, forgetful, disheveled, anxious and confused. I sound like a toddler, huh?

Depression is a real illness and while I have never been clinically diagnosed as “depressed”, I have a laundry list of reasons for why I might be. It could be because it’s October now, which is a hard month for being the anniversary of my parents deaths, if I’m, as I’ve shared before, still getting used to my (not so) new role of mother, if I’m struggling with my summer miscarriage, or more than likely a combination of all three and a bunch of other junk too. Whatever IT is, I don’t like feeling this way and I am anxious to get back in treatment.

I’m no good at “faking it” or keeping my feelings at bay. They come out in the strangest ways and don’t want my negativity to ever affect Lucas. Not to mention, I have too much goodness in my life to feel this way.

My first appointment is next week and I have two additional appointments after that. From time to time, when appropriate I’ll update you. In the meantime, your good thoughts are welcome. Let the self discovery and growth begin.

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This post was written for the word game, Word Up, Yo!hosted by the self proclaimed Nerd Mafia: Natalie (Mommy of a Monster), Kristin (Taming Insanity) and Liz (a belle, a bean and a chicago dog).


If you like words too, play along!
This week’s word is bamboozled.

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The Briefcase

Posted on October 11, 2010 Written by Tonya

Always when I least expect it, something will stop me right in my tracks and make me yearn to see my father again or just hear his voice one more time.

I think they’re called grief attacks and they come out of nowhere; it might be a song on the radio, an expression on Lucas’ face, or a memory that flashes through my mind in the middle of doing something totally unrelated.

Luckily, these “attacks” usually only lasts a few minutes but they take my breath my breath away and I don’t see them ending any time soon.

Recently I was waiting for my suitcase in the baggage claim area at the airport and I saw a man with a beat up old briefcase between his legs that looked just like my dad’s. I couldn’t stop staring at it.

A briefcase that I keep in my closet because I don’t know what else to do with it.

A briefcase that I have only been able to open a handful of times because it physically hurts too much.

A briefcase that is filled with my dad’s scent, his check books, keys, business cards notes to himself and wallet.

I hate that god damned briefcase and I miss the man that carried it.

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Filed Under: loss, MSA Tagged With: loss, MSA

Celebrating 41 Years

Posted on August 23, 2010 Written by Tonya

My parents have been on my mind all day.

It’s always the milestone days that get me.

Today would have been their 41st wedding anniversary.

Theirs was a perfect match. Where he was weak, she was strong and vice versa. I don’t remember them ever fighting about anything.

Ever.

Honestly.

There were never any slamming doors or my waking up to loud yelling in the middle of the night. They were both very level headed and freakishly calm. They were educators. They knew how to talk and they knew how to listen.

Sure, there were disagreements, but they never lasted very long and I couldn’t tell you what they were about. Perhaps they sheltered me from their arguments, but it seemed as though they knew the fine art of compromise and what ever came their way, they worked together…beautifully.

They were a couple to emulate and I wish that they were still here to celebrate today.
Here’s to you, Mom and Dad.

The best is yet to be.

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Filed Under: KRA, loss, marriage, milestones, MSA

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