on sunlight and shadow...

"joy... and pain... like sunshine... and rain"  -rob base (1988)

have you ever heard the story of how kjaer and i got engaged?
 
this time of year always makes me think of it...

you probably want to bring the kleenex box over to your computer... consider yourself warned.

kjaer and i had been dating over 4 years by 2009.  he had taken me ring shopping where i had picked out "stella"  (yes, i named her when i found her) in fall of 2008... but i had no idea when he was planning on asking.  for awhile, it was all i could think about.  some of you gals know what i'm talking about.  after a certain amount of time, we are R-E-A-D-Y... and i was there.  and my father, as most daddies are, was just as anxious/obnoxious about it
.
but in february of 2009 my dad was diagnosed with esophageal cancer.  so my priorities shifted... all of ours did.  although i'm sure i thought about marrying kjaer a lot, i mostly remember being consumed with my dad's well being, how my mom was doing, the latest dr. reports, etc.  kjaer was there through it all, loving me like a champ. 

in june, my dad was hospitalized, where we learned that his cancer had metastasized... the dr's gave him 6 months to live. 

i don't think the dr's even knew the end was so close... we surely didn't expect it.

my dad was sent home to hospice care where my mom and the rest of us kids spent shifts caring for him and staying up with him at night.  he was in a lot of pain and drugged... so it wasn't really like having my dad there.  i'm sure some of you can relate, who've been through this before.  but we kept clinging to the 6 month time frame and hoping that there would be some sunlight before the shadow. 

there was a brief moment in the middle of the night when the clouds of painkillers parted and my dad was there... really there.  it was on a night that i had come over to stay up with my dad so that my mom could get some sleep. dad wasn't sleeping very well, so he'd lay down for about 20 minutes and then be up trying to do something.  because he was on so many different medications, you had to help him move around, make sure he didn't pull his epidural out (for the pain in his spine), etc.  needless to say, it wasn't for the faint of heart.  the night shift was truly a night shift where you worked. 

on this particular night, my dad started acting more and more like himself.  he'd call me by my little nicknames (which i hadn't heard from him since he'd been hospitalized) and ask me why i didn't go to sleep on the couch.  i truthfully admitted that it was because i couldn't sleep because he was up and i needed to be there with him.  as the night wore one, he began to complain that he was in a lot of pain... the epidural wasn't working.  (we later found out that it had somehow become dislodged from it's spot in his spine where the tumor was pushing).  by morning he could barely manage.  when the visiting hospice nurse came to visit, my dad asked her to please admit him to a hospice care center because he "couldn't do this to his family anymore."  

shadow...

the nurse pulled us aside and told us that typically, hospice patients can often "sense" when something is about to happen.  she gently divulged that chances were, he would not be returning home again.

(she was right)

it was a painful realization.  i remember standing on the back porch of my parents house just sobbing... what was happening?  i thought we'd had at least 6 more months.

the ambulance came to pick up my dad.  as he was getting loaded on a stretcher (and probably in an effort to get me to cheer up) he stated rather matter-of-factly "what are you wearing?  you look worse than i do!"  and out the door they rolled him. typical dad... just typical. 

i looked down at my threads... my favorite pair of ripped of jeans and one of my dad's old t-shirts that i'd stolen from his closet (a habit i'd been in since the middle school)  i knew he was right.  if a dying man thought i looked worse than him... well, then action needed to be taken.  a girl can't be out in public looking worse than death itself!

i called kjaer in a mess of tears... less because of my outfit and more because of what was happening.  he promised to meet me at the hospice center with a change of clothes within the hour.

we had just gotten my dad settled when kjaer called.  he was out in the parking lot and not sure about how to get into the wing we were in.  i went outside to meet him.

when i got to him i was in tears already.  we hugged, i cried (i was also secretly relieved to see a change of clothes in his hands).  i stepped back from kjaer and looked him full on in the face, "i didn't think it would happen this way."   (don't ask me how i thought it was going to happen.  death is never easy, my friends.  i think i was hoping if he were going to pass, it would be peacefully in his sleep without so much pain.)

"me neither" he replied (but i later realized he wasn't talking about my dad).

sunlight...

and that's when stella made her grand appearance and kjaer said, "i love you and i just want you and your dad to know that i want to take care of you for the rest of your life." 

commence the waterworks ladies... that's where everyone starts to cry when they hear the story.  in fact, that's where i started to cry and kiss my man. 

apparently, i forgot to say yes though.

"well...?"  he asked, "are you going to marry me or what?"

we went inside to share the happy news with my parents.  my dad, who was in so much pain he could hardly bear it, broke out into the biggest smile you've ever seen.  i can't remember what he said when he pulled kjaer towards him to the bed, but there was nothing but complete joy on his face.

my dad died a week and half later.  but in spite of all of the mind numbing drugs and pain he was in, he never forgot that his daughter was going to get married.  and when my dad went to join the Lord, he knew he had left me in the capable hands of another man who loved me as crazy as he did. 

it's not your typical engagement story.  truly one of the most tragic events of my life is contrasted by one of the most thrilling.  but i wouldn't change it... ever.  one of the most beautiful parts of my life unfolded that day, in the parking lot of a hospice center.

kjaer and i are 2 months away from celebrating our 2nd anniversary and 11 weeks away from welcoming our first little one into the world.  i know that my dad is up in heaven, cheering us on and talking about us to God constantly.  (well, he's probably still more concerned about my outfits...  "Lord... can you please just work on her clothing?  Why does she love those ripped up jeans so much?  Why is she wearing my old flannel pajama pants right now while she's pregnant?  ")  but mostly i know he's proud of me and the man kjaer has become as my husband. 

epiphany... love and loss are so closely related... like sunlight and shadow.  once you open yourself up to loving someone, you also open the door to losing that person and the pain it brings.  but the bliss far outweighs the sorrows... which is why we continue to reach out and love those around us.  i consider myself blessed to have experienced such glorious joy in the midst of my grief. 

on a side note... kjaer told me that on the contrary... when i came out into the parking lot that day with my ripped up jeans and pigtails... he couldn't have been happier.   he was so nervous, but when he saw me in my "scrubby" attire (ie.- his favorite jeans) he settled down right away and knew it was meant to be.  now... that's love! 

confessions of a night owl

in the past few years, sleeplessness has plagued me.  but the circumstances of this sleeplessness have been so opposite of each other that it perplexes me. 

it started three years ago, when my dad was diagnosed with cancer.  even while he was still healthy, i'd find myself aimlessly wandering around in the wee hours of the morning, drinking large glasses of milk and reading a good (or bad, depending on how you look at it) book.

after he passed away, this lack of shut eye intensified.  i tried to deal with it naturally (tea, exercise, blah, blah, blah) but as the months wore on it became harder to function... especially when i had to work with 29 first graders every day.  finally, it was suggested to me by a counselor that i was suffering from depression.  after several doctor visits, i was finally sleeping again.

last year, i came off the "hard stuff".  i felt like i had coped enough with the passing of my beloved da-doo (ie.- worlds best father) to face life again without the support of anti-depressants.  it took a couple of months of tapering under the watchful eye of a professional and i was successfully back to my ol' self.... sleeping like a rock and all.

until...

the first week of august.

i tried to blame it on going back to work.  that's always an exhausting time of the year, any teacher would attest to this.  but because it's so tiring, i usually slept from the moment my head hit the pillow until the snooze button had been hit about 5 times.

so i found it rather unnerving that during the most exhausting season of the year for me, i was waking up and staring at the ceiling for hours upon hours.

i couldn't figure it out.  i was happy, relatively calm, adjusted... as far as i was concerned.  i worried fretfully that i was slipping back down the slippery slope.  and though those years have made me stronger, i wasn't sure i wanted to go back to that mental space.

one particularly sleepless night, i woke up after a strange dream.  i had dreamed that i was pregnant and had told my sweet husband.  while i don't remember all of the details of the dream, the last thing that happened will ALWAYS stick with me.  he was sitting in our (then) office, i told him i was pregnant, and he kissed me on my belly.  i woke up thinking, "what the...?"

it was 2:30 in the morning.  i walked around our quiet house, shaken by my dream.  i just couldn't figure it out.  all the while, i worried i was back to my old ways.  i tried my old tricks (milk, reading, cuddling up with trooper and a couple of fleeces on a certain couch) but nothing worked.  i finally gave up and just readied myself for the day.  i went to work, bleary eyed and prepared for my last day of meetings before kids started school for the year.

i sat in our staff meeting, clutching my cup of coffee, fretting about how i was going to possibly stay awake during meetings all day.

suddenly... it occurred to me... an epiphany of sorts.

what if... i... was?

i leaned over to my friend and whispered a question in her ear.  it went something like this...
me: "when did your sense of smell change when you were pregnant?"
her:  "why"
me:  "just wondering..."
her:  "before i even knew i was"
me: *silence*  (my brain starts thinking about how i had told kjaer the night before that maybe we needed to wash (YES WASH... don't ask how my brain works but it made sense at the time) our grass because it smelled so bad like dog pee.  i had nearly passed out while grilling chicken and had taken to walking in and out of our house with my shirt pulled up over my nose)
her:  "you're pregnant... aren't you?"
me:  "no... i took a test a few days ago.  no."  (brain... uhhhhhhh.... but something's up)

of course, we were like two little school girls (yes i see the irony that we were IN a school and supposed to be acting like TEACHERS) as she grilled me on anything "strange" that may have been going on with me.

that night i went home, and my entire life changed... as did my husbands.  i learned that, in fact, i was pregnant.

since then, even though i've sleeping like a rock during the week (Thank You Lord!)... on weekends, school vacations... any day i'm supposed to sleep in... i have woken up extremely early. 

this morning, after my last bathroom trip, i laid in bed and waited for sleep to visit again.  after awhile i just gave into the madness, leaned over the best i could without my belly getting in the way to kiss kjaer and stated, rather matter of factly, "it's just not fair."  i got up, came down here and started a blog.

why not, right?

after all, i have wistfully stated many times that i wish i could write a blog like some of my very talented friends.   once, i said it aloud to my friend, super-blogger hannah, and she said, "then write one".  while i laughed it off (oh, i just couldn't possibly) her encouragement has stuck with me. 

so as i laid awake this morning i couldn't stop thinking about it.  wouldn't these sleepless nights/mornings be the perfect time to write?  ... and who cares if no-one reads it?

i mean, it's just me and "thumper" (aka baby k) awake anyway.  i can even hear trooper (ie - my other soul mate) snoring over there on his doggie bed and quincy (our beloved cat) is curled up, sleeping on a fleece on the chair.

and... i have a suspicious feeling that it'll be just me and baby k awake like this for awhile.

so why not use my night owl time to do what i love?  write.  talk.  feel.

the difference is... that unlike the last period of sleepless nights in my life... this time it has been sparked into existence by the creation of something so precious, so amazing, so joyful... that i'm beginning to think i need to retract my statement to kjaer this morning.  no more whining and complaining...in approximately 12 weeks, my nights are about to get a lot more sleepless.

what i'm trying to say is, my hope is that baby k and i will be here for some midnight laughs and cries for many, many nights to come.

cheers to this epiphany... not the first of my life... but certainly a substantial one!