Gizmo

Ever have a day that somewhere in the middle of it you find yourself thinking "this is easily in the top ten, worst days to date?". Well, today was one of those days for me. One of the many (many) reasons for that - our family cat Gizmo was unexpectedly put to sleep this afternoon. Thirteen years ago while visiting my Grandpa Jake, we feel in love with the cute, long whiskered, black and white kitty and drove her the six hours home to live with us. Gizzy went through a brat cat phase, a fat cat phase and in the more recent years, as us kids moved in and out of my parents house, Gizmo became my moms girl. If Mom was gone Gizmo would sit at the top of the stairs by the front door and howl for hours. Even under strained situations, like after my parents house fire when my parents, my brothers, my sister-in-law, and three cats came to live with Scott, Kate, our two cats and I, Gizmo was the best behaved of the bunch. She settled right in and acted like a true princess. My parents had Kate today while I was out of town. She was with them at the vet when they got the bad news. Not being able to control the way Kate was told broke me. Her concept of death, the way she relates to it and balances it, is something I'm very protective of. There is, in my opinion, a right way and a wrong way to help a child understand the concept of death. I've found the way that seems to be working for Kate. Not being there... Hell. Pure hell. Even though I knew Kate was with the two people that love her almost as much as I do, it just wasn't enough. I know we're going to have some rough days ahead as Kate once again struggles to figure out death. As she realizes that yet another "family" member won't come home again. I wish I could take this away for her. I wish my almost fiv year old didn't understand so much. She never ceases to amaze me though. As we "talked to Scott" tonight, she told him "I was really sad Daddy. I was crying and crying. Then I think, maybe with Gizmo with you in heaven you won't miss us so much." I love her. We'll miss you Gizzy. I'm sure Scott's already scratching your ears. I took this picture just two weeks ago while decorating Easter eggs. It's a horrible picture but I had to share her furry face.

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A little thing called Easter

Did you know that I really like Easter? You probably didn't because I've never really said that out loud. I'm coming out of the closet... I like Easter! Like, really like it. It's all bright and springy. This year even the weather got the "be awesome!" memo. Kate is at the perfect age for Easter fun. There were far fewer broken eggs this time. Speaking of dyed eggs... We colored these with kool-aid! They came out awesome and didn't stink up the house. *this is Minnie, she belongs to my parents * My dad is a nut. He felt the need to "re-use" the kool-aid and made himself a drink. He obviously wasn't paying attention when we mixed one entire packet of kool-aid with 2/3cups water to dye the eggs in. For those of you a bit rusty in your kool-aid making, it's one packet of water a cup of sugar and a pitcher of water. Sigh... Only my dad! Minnie still loves him. Kate worked so hard on her eggs. Sitting and sounding out everyone's names and making each family member their own egg. That night while we were talking to Daddy before bed, she apologized to him for forgetting to make him an egg. I assured her that Daddy didn't mind. I love that she still thinks to incorporate him into her daily life. I wonder at which point she'll have fewer memories with him then without him. Where did her mind start making lasting conscious memories? Was it when she was two? Has she already formed more without him then with him? Will she forget all the memories she has now? Hell, I can't remember what I went into the kitchen for 10 minutes ago. What does she remember and for how long? Back to Easter.... We tried a new place for brunch this year. My only criteria for the restaurant was that they had an Easter bunny. Kate just loves the bunny! We got the bunny and we got a real treat for brunch. I loved the food and it was a nice, relaxed environment. I don't know about the rest of the family but I want to go back next year. Throughly stuffed, we headed home for Kate's Easter egg hunt and basket opening. I can't decide if Kate would want some consigns to join her in the egg hunting fun or if she would hate sharing. A quiet afternoon of couch lounging, sports watching and Lego building. I can think of a lot worse ways to spend the day.... A few people have asked if I'm going to keep blogging. The truth is I never really quit writing I just quit posting. I needed to find my voice again. I needed to feel confident in how I was moving forward so when the inevitable Internet idiot would email me garbage about all the things I was doing wrong I could easily tell them to "shove it". I needed to find my stride, my mojo, my identity. This place needs work. It no longer feels like me. I'll be fixing that. This place is my way to show Kate (and myself) just how far we've come. Were still building, life is nothing if not a work in progress but it's a progress worth sharing, even if it is just for me.

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2,663

Standing in the kitchen this morning I'm getting Kate's breakfast ready, boiling the eggs for this aftrnoons egg dying and flipping through yesterdays mail. (I'm a super multi-tasker.)
I'm scanning the Hospice of Pallative Care of Northeastern Illinois newsletter. There are always interesting tidbits of helpful information and it never ceases to amaze me the amount of services they provide to people at the end stages of life. I catch myself thinking about all the ways that Hospice helped us that last week and all the ways they have cared for Kate and I in the almost 13 months since Scotts death.
Opening the annual report I see a number that catches my breath.

2,663
That's the number of people that Hospice helped in 2011. There were 2,662 other people that were blessed with the loving care of Hospice's services.
And there was Scott. My Scott. My life. My baby girl. Me.

For those that knew him best, Scott was anything but a statistic. He was (and continues to be) our Scott.


This is the only picture I have of Scott on my iPad. But I wanted to include it for two reason.
1) we were being supported by Hospice when it was taken and
2) even 2 days before his death, in obvious pain, he was Scott. Silly, goofy, endearing, loving, kind...


Thank you Hospice. Next time I feel personally connected to your annual report I hope it's because I've won the lottery and have shared handsomely with you.

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