Seven months

Seven months. It is incredible that it was only that long ago.  In so many ways it seems like another life, and still, like yesterday.

There is this John Mayer song where there last two lines are:

"Wherever I go.  Whatever I do. I wonder where I am in my relationship to you.

Wherever you go.  Wherever you are.  I watch your pretty life play out in pictures from afar".

These days, I imagine saying the first line Chris  - that wherever I go, whatever I do, I always think about him.  And I imagine him reminding me in the second line that no matter what, he is watching Colleen and I from afar, as our lives continue in the way God intends them to.  I know he will never leave our memories, our hearts, our home, but I still miss him desperately.

It's not the same as in the beginning.  I can go days without the sadness gripping my heart in a choke hold.  Now, when it does come, I take a deep breath and let it wash over me.  If Colleen is with me, I tell her that I am sad because I miss her Daddy.  And, when I am ready, without me even knowing how, I start to feel better, and I am ready to face the next thing that life will inevitably bring.

In Colleen's new princess room

We moved into our new house two weeks ago.  It is a beautiful home, and has already been a blessing to be so close to Chris' parents and Colleen's school.  Colleen loves the new house.  She has a big girl bed complete with princess bedding, a big living room to dance in, and some new freedom.  She can open and close the back door by herself and go out into the backyard alone.  I watch her from the windows in the kitchen as she waters the plants, pets the dog and plays with her sandbox. The weeks of renovations and stress and worry were all worth it for the life we will live here. We are meant to be in this house.

Just as I prayed for, a wonderful young couple who are pregnant with their first baby bought our old house.  They will live a wonderful life in that house.  As I left the night before we closed, I remembered the day we found it.  We had been looking for months, and the minute we walked in we knew it would be our home.  We loved that house and the life we had there, and I am so thankful that God gave us another couple who would love it as much as we did.

The last few months have been so busy, I feel like I haven't had a moment to catch my breath. I sold a car, bought a car, took care of a house on the market, sold a house, bought a house, renovated a house, moved into a house...all on top of the everyday responsibilities of being a working single mom.  Tonight is the first night that I can remember that I actually didn't have a huge, pressing, additional project on my plate.  It feels so good.

It's hard to remember that just four months ago I was on crutches, and couldn't even take care of Colleen without help.  That three months ago I was in physical therapy and was worried that I would never be able to walk normally again.  That two months ago I was worried that I wouldn't be able to sell my house.  That just one month ago I cried during one of my parent's visits as I started to really think about how hard it would be (literally and emotionally) to move into a new home.  I know that God gave these challenges to me for a reason.  That he knew that I needed to prove to myself that I could handle it. And  I did.  But I am so excited about slowing down and taking a breath.  Going to the pool after work with Colleen - heading out for a run - watching Project Runway - just doing nothing. 

My instinct has always been to rush, to push, on to the next thing.  The next step in my career, the next phase in my life - I know in my heart that I can't push through this.  I need to just....stop.  Stop and be in this moment in my life.  Savor every minute with Colleen.  Get to know myself again.  Figure out what kind of life that God wants us to have.  Figure out who I am.

I was never a grown-up without Chris.  We started dating during my last semester as an undergrad.  He had been out of school for several years, and was already settled - he had a home, a job, and a clear idea of what he wanted his life to be like.  I loved getting plugged into that equation.  We wanted the same things - a simple life, a safe place for our kids to grow up, a life full of our friends and our families - these are all the things that I feel so blessed to have.  But I never had to do it alone.

Being a single parent is hard. You have to be both the friend and the disciplinarian.  You have to do...everything.  There is no putting off chores until someone else does them.  No asking your partner to be the "bad cop" when your child breaks the rules.  No one else to soothe the tears, sing the bedtime songs, make dinner, empty the dishwasher, run to the grocery store at 10 pm because we are out of milk and mac & cheese.  I have been keeping a log of what I call "single Mom moments" - times when I have had to just suck it up and do whatever it takes to fix the problem.  The details are for another post - but the key is that I am learning to do whatever it takes.  That I can do whatever it takes.  I know the lessons will keep coming, but I also know they will get easier.

In the last few weeks, we have all been teaching Colleen about Chris.  For months we didn't really know what to do.  What do you say?  How do you explain?  Now, we tell the truth.  That Dada is in heaven with God.  That his name is Chris Cooper. That he loved basketball and the Aggies (most of the time).  That he was tall.  That he had black hair.  That he danced funny during Hi-5 because it made her laugh.  That he loved Colleen and Momma and all of us so much.  That he called her Wormy, and was more proud of her than anything else in the world.  She has a little script now, where she repeats the thing we have taught her.  She gets a big smile on her face whenever we talk about him  We have pictures of our family all around the new house.  After having them all put away while our old house was on the market, it is wonderful to have them up again.  I keep reminding myself how blessed we are that she won't remember this.  She won't remember the pain - she will just remember the things we teach her.  What a bittersweet blessing.

I know that many of you are praying for us, and I want to you to know much we appreciate and feel your prayers.  My request now is that Colleen and I are blessed with time to rest. Time to rest in this moment until we are ready for what is next.

The song on my repeat these days speaks to my own need to know that God is listening no matter what I am saying.  It's by Amy Grant, and it reminds me that God loves us just as we are.   That he wants our honesty more than anything.  That whatever we are feeling, wherever we are, whatever we do, he is with us through it all. 

With love,
Kristin

Better Than A Hallelujah 

http://www.lhj.com/lhj/file.jsp?item=/video/betterthanahallelujah&temp=yes

God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves a drunkards cry,
The soldiers plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

The woman holding on for life,
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes
The tears of shame for what's been done,
The silence when the words won't come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Better than a church bell ringing,
Better than a choir singing out,singing out.

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah