My Name is Kris and I Blah-g

I know that Michaela misses her Daddy. She doesn’t really express much emotion about it and hasn’t really at all in the time that he’s been gone. I think we’ve only had two meltdowns. The first was when her hamster Henry died which was not too long after Daddy. Too much loss? I am not sure. I think part of it was because I wouldn’t get her a new hamster (sorry but as cute as Henry was, he was kinda gross and I got stuck cleaning his cage – not gonna go there again). The 2nd was on our trip to Florida earlier this year. Our last family vacation with Mike was to Disney World in September 2007. Believe it or not, there was a lot of foreshadowing prior to that trip and in hindsight I know I was being prepared. I felt strongly then that it would be our last vacation together. It pains me to admit that now. But the inclinations that I was having then were too strong for me to deny now. I just knew. We returned to Disney World this past March. And it was a big trip. I had traveled alone with Michaela before but they were small 1-2 day trips so it was pretty easy. But this was a full week in Florida and by about 4 days into it we were both feeling the strain and we fell apart in each other’s arms crying over how we missed Dad. I know I instigated it. I always do when it comes to him because like her father, Michaela tries to avoid anything sad. She’d just rather not go there. In fact the day of his funeral she put her foot down and told me that we were allowed to cry at the funeral but once it was over, NO MORE. She wanted to spend what time she had left with his family celebrating her Dad and having a party. She was and IS a very insightful child. We had the party per her request and it was just what everyone needed. Still….she didn’t cry at the funeral. She faced it with bravery and was stoic much like her Dad. I am so opposite…I just have to let it out. Sometimes I wish she would just because I know that for so long Mike bottled things up and it wasn’t good. And I’ll leave it at that…So, she doesn’t cry for her Dad. But there are times when she mentions him out of the blue – often in fact. She freely requests to visit him and she loves to talk about the funny things he used to do. It’s healthy for her and me to talk about it. Her Dad was a great guy and he loved her very much. I don’t ever want her to forget that. But time is flying by. It’s only been about 22 months yet Michaela is 7 now and so much “older” than she lets on. I think back to that little girl in the blue dress that touched her Daddy for the last time at the funeral and I can’t believe she’s the same little girl. She keeps much to herself although I try to get it out of her. He was the same way and it drove me nuts. I usually found out how he felt after the fact – usually in something he’d write on his Myspace page or in a card…today I found a little note that Michaela had written to her Dad on his Facebook Page which I still keep active. It said simply, “I love Daddy.”*sigh* How can you NOT get choked up when you see something like that?! I miss him too, Michaela. More and more every day…

These moments come when I least expect them. But a couple events are colliding this week and I suppose the feelings I am experiencing are to be expected. Still…I wish they would just stay away. I’ve been there, done that, so to speak. Honestly, after nearly 18 months I am ready to stop feeling this way. Tomorrow is Father’s Day. And like last year, we’ll make a pilgrimage to the cemetery to leave flowers for Mike. This custom helps Michaela. She needs a place to go and I wonder how as time goes on how much she’ll remember of her Dad. So far, she’s doing really well. We speak of him often. We laugh about some of the crazy things he used to do. And usually these talks will follow up with this question she asks me, “You gonna cry, Mom?” I suppose she’s seen me do a lot of that in the most recent past. The tears come every once in a while – not as steady as they used to. I am thankful for that. It’s exhausting. I am thankful that I can speak about her Dad – most of the time, without tears. And as grateful as I am for the dry eyes, it doesn’t stop the thoughts….the quiet moments of staring out the window… the feeling of a heavy heart. It started for me last night. No warning. It just happened. I had hoped that sleep would allow me to wake today with a renewed energy to forget this mood and hope for a happy weekend. But the clouds are grey again, the rain is falling and it’s just so easy to keep the feelings blue.My realtor called yesterday. The final appraisal is done. The sale is going through. There’s no reason for me to go over there anymore. I just need to wait for the call. Then, I will go get the check cut for what I owe (which is  A LOT) and with that and Mike’s death certificate in hand, I will go sign the papers to release the house from my name. And that will be that. The burden of a monthly house payment will be gone but that is the only thing that I relieved about. It’s hard to react when I am congratulated about this. Really? Congratulations on selling the home I shared with my husband and daughter? Is that good news?So, I will allow myself this moment to be sad but I am determined to get myself out of this because I am done. I am done being sad. I am done feeling sorry for myself. I am done allowing what was to define who I am now. It’s not me. Wish me luck…I’m gonna need it.

We have our nightly rituals. What parents and children don’t? We are creatures of habit. And when a mistake happens, we take steps of creating new habits to make sure that these mistakes are never repeated. Take for example, toilet training. Michaela has long passed that stage but it was only 18 months ago she was still going to bed at night in a pull-up. We ran out of pull-ups one night and thinking I was going to have to make a dash to the store for more, Michaela said she’d like to give it a try at a night sans disposable underwear. It wasn’t too long after Mike’s passing. I didn’t have much of a willpower to fight the potty training fight and I wasn’t about make her do something that could be traumatic but this sudden urge to be a big girl was a nice surprise so we gave it a go. I am happy to report that we haven’t looked back. But we haven’t had our share of mistakes. It was usually my fault – over looking potty time, being in a hurry or allowing Michaela to down some chocolate milk before bedtime. So I learned from these times when the nights weren’t so dry and I am happy to report that accidents are a rare occurrence. Still…Michaela tries to prove herself from time to time. Tonight she came in to me and said, “Mom…I don’t really need to go. I promise not to pee in your bed.”Hmmm…. It was strange she would say this. I told her, “please try. It doesn’t matter if only a little comes out. Just go!” A few minutes later a little voice called from down the hall. “Mom! There’s no toilet paper!” As I entered the bathroom, there stood Michaela near the toilet looking at me with that look. You know the one. The one that cat gets when it gets the canary? This is what I saw:She’s quite the funny kid…..LOTS of her father in her. And he would have loved this!!