Monday, January 19, 2015

January 19, 2015 A Presidential Gut Punch

Today was an interesting day with time for me to be in my head as I waited in line for 4 hours in hopes of getting free tickets to see President Obama speak at Boise State University on Wednesday.

First of all, last night, I had this great dream that made my heart smile.  I dreamt about this baby boy with rosy checks, a great smile and such bright eyes.  He was all giggles and grins as he was learning to crawl up steps.  He was so fun to watch.  Then I got closer and I held him and looked into his eyes as he giggled with delight and I saw Nick.  It was Nick as a baby.  I instantly woke up.... first with a smile and couldn't wait to go to his room and pick him up out of his crib.  Then a punch to the gut in the middle of the night as I realized, Nick isn't a baby.....and he is dead.  I wanted to cry right then and there, but I decided to be grateful for the happy, smiling face and visit I got from him in my dream.  I had a hard time sleeping after that.  It was certainly restless; of course, Omi's alarm clock on her phone which was in our room going off at 5:30 in the morning and then mine going off at 6:30 was not helping the matters much.  *sigh*

Once we finally rolled out of bed on our day off, I went straight to sweeping and mopping up my floors.  Man, they get dirty!  And I promised Omi Girl lunch at her favorite sandwich place so we got her up and moving.  I found out that tickets for the President's visit were already being given out to students and I thought for certain, there would be no way we could get our tickets and I didn't really want to stand outside in the cold.  I was ready to give up on that dream.  But Suzy REALLY wanted to go.  She couldn't go when he went to Florida Institute of Technology cause she had to work, and now she had opportunity number 2 (how often does THAT happen?) and she had to work again today.  So we decided to go and try our luck.  Omi can't go to the actual speech (thanks to finals), but she went in Suzy's stead today.  We got there around noon, and tickets were not being handed out till 4pm.  It was a long cold wait, but at least the sun was out!



During the wait, I walked around a couple of times.  Once I counted the people in front of us. 268 ahead of us (before people cut in line).   Then later around 3pm, I went to walk behind us to see how long the line was.  It went all the way around the football stadium and onto the greenbelt. And people were STILL showing up to get tickets!  It was insane!  On my way back to my place in line, I ran into my friend Donna and visited with her for a bit.  She shared a story about her daughter with me...and she cried and I hugged her.  It was a happy cry.  I love hearing people's stories...especially about their growth as a mom.   Then I went back to my family and as I walked towards my family I came across my former next door neighbor, Maxine.  She is in her 80's and she was alone and she was walking to find the back of the line (which I knew was WAY back there).  I told her to come jump in line with us.  She was carrying a little stool and she had a long ways to go and she was struggling.  So she joined us, and as neighbors do, she started asking about the kids.  She asked about Nick and Suzy.  I had to give her the news.  I was rather matter of fact about it.  I do alot of that actually.  I just talk about it (alot of the time) like it's just part of life.  And sometimes that is how I feel. But I wonder if that is just a coping mechanism.  Like deep down I am hurting, but on the outside my smile and my persona are different.  *shrug*  I don't know.

What I do know is this:  Nick would have KILLED for tickets to see Obama!  And he would have haunted me (not in a good way) if I had just stayed home and not TRIED to see Obama.......especially if that meant not helping Suzy get there.

We did get our tickets!  We are very excited.  Tracy, Suzy and I will be going. (Nate didn't want to wait in line for the tickets or the line that we will have to wait in to get into the venue on Wednesday.)

The last thing I really wanted to do after a long day of waiting in line was go to the grocery store, but we had a list of things that needed to be purchased, including food for the house!  While I was in the grocery store, Vanessa Carlton's song "A Thousand Miles" came on, and it hit me like a punch in the gut.  I will play the song with the lyrics for you.  Even as I listened to it tonight, it made me cry.



I really feel like this half marathon training OMi and I are doing is my way of walking 1000 miles to see my son....or at least to move on with my life.  That is what "running" is to me.  Training helps me clear my head and my heart.  It helps me focus on the now and find things to be grateful for.  And I would totally walk 1000 miles if it meant I could see Nick again.  God I  miss him.  I really do.      I kind of felt bad today, cause I have 2 friends on facebook who have lost their sons.  (Well I have more than that, but these 2 were publicly posting today about how much they missed their boys.)  And I thought... "Why don't I feel that way about Nick?  Why don't I feel so heart wrenchingly sad and missing him?  I feel like my life just goes on.  I must be a bad mother."   Really I do feel like a bad mother most of the time.  I mean, I just lost my 25 year old son 2 months ago, I should be shriveled up in bed and a crying mess.  Instead I am taking burlesque classes, getting ready to perform this weekend, making costumes, standing in line for tickets to the see the President, training for a half marathon with Omi and just moving on with life.

I know I am not suppose to judge myself for the way that I grieve or don't grieve.  But I just don't understand it.  And maybe it's not for me to understand.

But I can honestly say, today I was given 2 punches to the gut...and tears have been shed.  And man would I give anything to have that smiling baby back in my arms again!!!!  Hell, I would even take the mouthy obnoxious 16 year old that I wanted to kill when he got arrested back!!!!  I just want my boy back.  Plain and simple.

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