gifts

Today I found myself looking through a Target sales ad thinking about what we would have gotten Weston for his birthday and for Christmas this year.  He would have been 3 years old.  The holidays and this time of year are difficult for us.  We miss our baby boy each and every day.

 

I’m old-school

I went to see Amelia Earhart with my Mom and Dad and Erin.  I don’t see movies in the theatre very often anymore, but it was nice to see one on the big screen.  The scenery in the movie was beautiful.  I found the acting to be really great, although I am reminded of why I am more passionate about live theatre than film.  In live theatre, there are real human beings standing in front of us with no controlled elements.  They are vulnerable.  What we see is an original, authentic performance, complete with flaws and triumphs.  In film, the performances are strictly controlled.  Every moment is created by the elements of film.  Actors in live theatre are performing a series of very difficult tasks in front of our eyes, and the art form can be very exciting to watch.  I am not discounting the difficulties of film or television, only expressing my preference for live theatre.

I am old-school.  Not really a product of my generation or the ones that follow mine.  I am not a technical, film/movie-driven person.  Sometimes I think I would have fit better in the Vaudeville time period.  When people find out I am an acting teacher and director, they often ask, ” do you do television or film?”  My answer is always, “no.”  And it is a decision on my part to stick with live theatre.  I find it to be a much better fit for me and my skill sets.

Those suckers are old

I stopped in at a chain pharmacy the other day to pick up some candy for the candy dish that sits on my desk at work.  I grabbed a bag of tootsie pops and blow pops, thinking the mixture would be nice.  On the days when I wanted a chewy candy center, the tootsie pops would work great.  On the days when I wanted some gum to smack on, the blow pops would be a welcoming sight.  So I tossed the mixture together like a garden salad, and placed the suckers in my candy dish.  My only complaint is that the blow pops seem old and unfresh.  They have a texture to them that makes me think they have been sitting on the shelf of that candy aisle for a long time.  It does not stop me from eating them, but it does make me think I have not gotten my money’s worth.  I’m not sure if anyone else would ever notice the texture, but I can’t be fooled.  Those suckers are old.

Bad Phrasing

No one ever said Grad school was easy.  It is not uncommon for me to have several papers to write – the common length is 10 to 12 pages.  To most people, they say, oh that’s not that much. But what people do not realize is that the 10 -12 pages have to be original research based on original ideas.  You can’t fake your way through these papers like you can in high school or undergraduate studies.  As a Grad student, you are expected to contribute new research and ideas to the field.  You also can’t write like a schmuck.  You have to write in an intelligent, scholarly way.  Of course my thesis is also a project that I am working on right now as well.  This is a much larger document that includes a committee of people who read and re-read the document over and over until it is perfect.  Then I have t my thesis defense where they grill me about my research.    Oh, and if writing were not enough, do you realize how many books and articles I read in a given week?  A lot.

Perhaps this is why I enjoy writing on my blog. I throw all of the rules of writing out the window and simply write the way I talk.  The grammar is often incorrect, the spelling is a joke, and I have no research to back up my rants.  It is pure bliss to be able to write whatever I want and however I want.  See there?  I ended that last sentence in a verb.  Maybe not breaking a rule, but certainly the phrasing is bad.  And that feels good.

Who are these people?

I like watching the Food Network from time to time.  However, some of the show hosts scare me.  This morning, this lady:

kept referring to a turkey (in a little kid voice)  as “sweetie, and “my little sweetie.”   I was afraid at any moment she was going to kiss it.  There were many other comments she made that I refuse to repeat on my blog.  A word to the Food Network personnel:  It’s food.  You are going too far.  It’s food.  Also, bleaching your hair and spiking it up does not make you a rock star.  Pull back, calm it down.

Difficult to Balance

It’s difficult to balance the stress in my life on a daily basis and determine whether or not it is normal stress or  stress amplified by grief.  There is no denying that grief is contributing to the stress in many areas of my life.  When I go to bed at night, my mind may be racing with thoughts of work, challenges in my job, and other problems my mind tries to solve.  Then laced throughout those thoughts, images and thoughts of Weston flash before my eyes causing me to feel that sinking feeling in my stomach.  Then, its time for sleep, at which point I often have dreams about Weston, some good, some bad.  So…I assess my current level of stress in part to the loss of Weston.

I miss him so much, at times it seems unbearable.  I just wish by some miracle he could come back to us.  I miss his laughter.  I miss his business.  I miss his routines in the morning, afternoon, and at bedtime.  I miss doing his laundry.  I miss seeing his foods in the cupboard.  I miss hearing his voice.  I miss holding his hand.  I miss giving him a big hug, and a kiss on his head.  I miss his jokes.

I just finished an intense work stint that started august 17th and required all of my days and evenings up until this weekend.  It was difficult work, and was rewarding in many aspects.  This past few weeks have almost been too much for me to handle and I have almost spinned out of control emotionally  a few times.  Now it’s time for a short break.  I need the break.

 

Still Stunned

This is Weston and his cousin Jocelyn.

Every night when I lay down to go to sleep, thoughts of Weston being gone rush through my head, leaving me with a sinking feeling and a a moment of being stunned once again.  I truly cannot believe that we no longer have Weston.  It is still hard, almost impossible,  to accept that this is the way has to be.

 

A Special Weekend

Erin and I spent the weekend just outside of Nashville, Tennessee with a group of amazing couples, each which had lost a child at some point in their recent past. Nancy Guthrie and her husband David, who lost two of their babies about ten years ago, hosted the weekend get-together and have since written several books for people who have lost loved ones. Her books have been a huge source of inspiration and help to both Erin and I as we have been trying to cope with the lost of our Weston.

The weekend was very difficult for us emotionally as we heard the stories of others who have lost kids, and as we had opportunities to share about Weston and his life. Though it was an emotionally difficult weekend, we were inspired and encouraged by the other couples.  God used Nancy and David to soften my heart toward Him just a little more. I still have a long way to go in this grief journey, but this weekend was a big step for me and I a very grateful to Nancy, David, and the others who contributed to making this weekend happen.

I have an immense amount of respect for parents who have lost children because of the extreme depth of loss that they experience.  The thoughts and feelings that go along with this type of loss cannot be explained to someone who has never lost a child.  For any parent who is able to survive, breath, and continue to function is nothing short of a miracle.  Some parents survive.  Some do not.

If you have experienced loss in your life, I highly recommend the books written by Nancy Guthrie.

blue eyes

Missing our baby today.

Ramblings

I miss hearing him say, “Daddy.”  There are no sweeter words that a Dad can hear.

I have not written as much lately for a number of reasons.  It has nothing to do with the fact that Weston has not been on my mind constantly.  It has to do with the fact that I have a hard time expressing my thoughts at times.  I have several drafts of writings that I have not posted.  It is so difficult to put into words my thoughts and feelings at times.  Some of the things I think about my situation, about God, and about life – I am not sure I believe and once something is published online – it seems to become truth.  So in some ways I try to be selective about blurting out any old thing that comes to mind.  If I did that, most of you would think that I should be taken to a hospital and checked for mental problems.  Well, not really.  That may be too extreme.

I saw a child yesterday who reminded me of Weston.  Most kids do not remind me of him.  But every now and again, I see one that does and I find myself staring at them, soaking up their every sound and every move.  I always hope their parents don’t glance over and catch me staring.  I’m sure it is quite creepy.  Then, if they knew I was comparing their child to my deceased son, they would really think I was creepy.  And perhaps they would be correct to think so.  But, yesterday, I enjoyed watching this child.  His personality and many of his expressions were similar to Weston.

The best way to describe our pain is that of a great void.  Weston was a special boy, with a unique personality.  We grew so close to him while he was here.  He relied on us for everything, and we relied on him for so much too.  Now that he’s gone, we have to sit in silence and reflect on why things are silent.  Our home has an unwelcome calm and quiet about it now-a-days.

“So, do you have kids?“  Blank stare for a moment, as I try to find a way to answer.

“You look tired.”  False grin as I laugh it off, inside thinking about why I look tired.

“Is everything ok?”  In the words of Weston: “nope.”

Somewhere within, I am finding pleasure in my work as I teach those with whom I work about theatre, but more importantly about life and love.  Respect of others.  Dignity.  Trust.  Influence.  I can influence.