So now it's been a year. Tomorrow will mark the anniversary of her death, but today marks the anniversary of our last conversation. You'd have to rewind all the way back to March 7 to find the anniversary of our last embrace, and somewhere in the middle of that is Alastair's last
physical contact with his mother.
Last night I found several old videos that I'd forgotten taking. They covered Alastair's birth, our first overnight trip with him, and one perfectly serene video of them gibbering at each other.
To say that I was upset would severely undersell the sentiment. I'm very good at repressing memories and emotions, but when they well up, they do it with a vengeance. And now, for the first time in a long time, I feel lost again. Rudderless and alone.
Tomorrow Alastair and I are taking the train to DC. We're gonna distract the hell out of ourselves with trains, subways, museums, rich food, friends, and swimming. Then Friday we're coming back after doing EVEN MORE museums.
Saturday I'm running the Ukrop's Monument Ave 10K in Amanda's memory. A number of truly fabulous people have contributed to my fund-raising efforts (and you can, too!), and a bunch of folks are also running in her memory.
I'm touched and deeply grateful for all the support and prayers of the last two years. I'm grateful to be super busy at work. I'm grateful for my boy and all the joy he brings me. I'm grateful for 14 1/2 years with a beautiful, smart, sassy lady.
Miss you, 'Manda.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Friday, March 19, 2010
19 Days? Really?
Has it really been that long since I last posted?
The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. The sun came out and dried up all the rain. The boy's been in a great mood. Facebook Scrabble occupies HOURS of my night. And of course there's the Wii. Oh, and it bears mentioning that my weekends have been off the chizzain.
And work? Oh my God I've rarely been so busy. I'm in the middle of several pilot deployments right now: Google Apps, WebSense hosted security, SAML 2.0 Single Sign-On. And since we're investigating SSO, it's causing us to re-think our login processes for other hosted solutions.
We're booting our offsite backup storage vendor, too, so that's a major overhaul in the works. And, as if all that weren't enough, I'm rolling out Active Directory to new international sites AND I'm still the only dude supporting the servers.
Busy much?
But it's good, because I'm too busy to let my head really wrap around the fact that it's March.
I have the 10K coming up next weekend, and I had to take almost the last month off from training because of a worsening back problem, but yesterday I got my first chance to run on the street. And that's when the emotions really broadsided me. I was less than half a mile from the end of my foreshortened run when I started tearing up. The emotion of WHY I'm running this thing took over. The fact that I was listening to a sad song about lost love probably didn't help,
though.
So anyway, there's all my excuses for not posting. I would promise a post for the anniversary, but I will be out of town visiting museums with a very special boy. But I'll try.
Hope everybody had a good St. Patrick's Day. I drank far less than I should have, but hopefully I can correct that this weekend.
The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. The sun came out and dried up all the rain. The boy's been in a great mood. Facebook Scrabble occupies HOURS of my night. And of course there's the Wii. Oh, and it bears mentioning that my weekends have been off the chizzain.
And work? Oh my God I've rarely been so busy. I'm in the middle of several pilot deployments right now: Google Apps, WebSense hosted security, SAML 2.0 Single Sign-On. And since we're investigating SSO, it's causing us to re-think our login processes for other hosted solutions.
We're booting our offsite backup storage vendor, too, so that's a major overhaul in the works. And, as if all that weren't enough, I'm rolling out Active Directory to new international sites AND I'm still the only dude supporting the servers.
Busy much?
But it's good, because I'm too busy to let my head really wrap around the fact that it's March.
I have the 10K coming up next weekend, and I had to take almost the last month off from training because of a worsening back problem, but yesterday I got my first chance to run on the street. And that's when the emotions really broadsided me. I was less than half a mile from the end of my foreshortened run when I started tearing up. The emotion of WHY I'm running this thing took over. The fact that I was listening to a sad song about lost love probably didn't help,
though.
So anyway, there's all my excuses for not posting. I would promise a post for the anniversary, but I will be out of town visiting museums with a very special boy. But I'll try.
Hope everybody had a good St. Patrick's Day. I drank far less than I should have, but hopefully I can correct that this weekend.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Odd little weekend
First a big shout to all the Jibans. You guys rock.
We've had a big week. Last weekend was action-packed, we saw the doctor on Thursday, and Alastair got to see a movie on Friday night.
We started Saturday morning bright & early with a trip to the dyno. I've had the Miata for 4 years and never once stopped to actually check the motor. Alastair helped out by getting up early, eating his breakfast really well, and generally being very amenable to the morning's activity (we watched one pull before he asked to go back into the relatively quiet office, where he got to play with the shop puppy).
Then it was off to the Little Gym for "Bring a Friend" week. Alastair's friend Kaden met us there, and they had such a great time playing together. It's fun to watch them play in an environment where you're not really responsible for their behavior.
But then lunch was an absolute chore. We went to Panera, where he took forever-and-a-day to eat a sandwich, twice as long to eat his yogurt, and then dropped most of his cookie on the floor. He wasn't happy, and his unhappiness made me unhappy, so nap time was most welcome.
I dropped him off at his Grammy's after nap and headed down to Williamsburg for a night of bowling (followed by an afternoon of karting).
The boy I picked up yesterday afternoon was the same bad-mood boy I dropped off, augmented by a bad spill he took on the driveway as we left. And a runny nose. Oh joy, we're gonna be sick again.
Toys R Us, Mexican for dinner (sopapillas for dessert), and a bit of Mario Kart before bed.
A fairly busy weekend, so really it wasn't surprising that we got on each others' nerves a bit.
But then we both woke up with nightmares this morning, and he's been coughing horribly all day. My nightmare consisted of me being in a group therapy session (something I've never done), puling about how much I wish I'd been there in Amanda's last conscious moments. The therapist then asked me if there were any two or three things Amanda could have said to me that would have been life-changing. In other words, could my having been there have really made a big difference?
And it's been on my mind all day. I suppose I wish she could have explicitly named the school she wanted him to attend, but if I'd been there, would I have been quick to call her parents, or would I have pulled the plug too soon, thereby robbing them of the opportunity to say their goodbyes? But really, the way it went down is the way it needed to. Her father was there, and he's much more level-headed in those types of scenarios than I am. He was able to make the necessary calls and arrangements.
Why this would wake me up in a cold sweat is truly vexing. It's perfectly rational stuff to wonder--it's not like I was dreaming of being chased by an ax-wielding madman.
Alastair's nightmare was that Vivienne had died. He woke up extremely upset that she was gone, and I curled up in the bed with him and assured him that she was just fine, that she wouldn't die for a long long time.
I'm not really sure what to make of this. I'm guessing our choreographed nightmares are as much a result of our dietary choices as anything else, but the fact is that he's been talking about death more and more. I hadn't seriously considered putting him into counseling because most of it is geared for slightly older children, but given how much of his time it seems to take up, he might be ready for more help than I can provide in understanding the meaning of death.
We've had a big week. Last weekend was action-packed, we saw the doctor on Thursday, and Alastair got to see a movie on Friday night.
We started Saturday morning bright & early with a trip to the dyno. I've had the Miata for 4 years and never once stopped to actually check the motor. Alastair helped out by getting up early, eating his breakfast really well, and generally being very amenable to the morning's activity (we watched one pull before he asked to go back into the relatively quiet office, where he got to play with the shop puppy).
Then it was off to the Little Gym for "Bring a Friend" week. Alastair's friend Kaden met us there, and they had such a great time playing together. It's fun to watch them play in an environment where you're not really responsible for their behavior.
But then lunch was an absolute chore. We went to Panera, where he took forever-and-a-day to eat a sandwich, twice as long to eat his yogurt, and then dropped most of his cookie on the floor. He wasn't happy, and his unhappiness made me unhappy, so nap time was most welcome.
I dropped him off at his Grammy's after nap and headed down to Williamsburg for a night of bowling (followed by an afternoon of karting).
The boy I picked up yesterday afternoon was the same bad-mood boy I dropped off, augmented by a bad spill he took on the driveway as we left. And a runny nose. Oh joy, we're gonna be sick again.
Toys R Us, Mexican for dinner (sopapillas for dessert), and a bit of Mario Kart before bed.
A fairly busy weekend, so really it wasn't surprising that we got on each others' nerves a bit.
But then we both woke up with nightmares this morning, and he's been coughing horribly all day. My nightmare consisted of me being in a group therapy session (something I've never done), puling about how much I wish I'd been there in Amanda's last conscious moments. The therapist then asked me if there were any two or three things Amanda could have said to me that would have been life-changing. In other words, could my having been there have really made a big difference?
And it's been on my mind all day. I suppose I wish she could have explicitly named the school she wanted him to attend, but if I'd been there, would I have been quick to call her parents, or would I have pulled the plug too soon, thereby robbing them of the opportunity to say their goodbyes? But really, the way it went down is the way it needed to. Her father was there, and he's much more level-headed in those types of scenarios than I am. He was able to make the necessary calls and arrangements.
Why this would wake me up in a cold sweat is truly vexing. It's perfectly rational stuff to wonder--it's not like I was dreaming of being chased by an ax-wielding madman.
Alastair's nightmare was that Vivienne had died. He woke up extremely upset that she was gone, and I curled up in the bed with him and assured him that she was just fine, that she wouldn't die for a long long time.
I'm not really sure what to make of this. I'm guessing our choreographed nightmares are as much a result of our dietary choices as anything else, but the fact is that he's been talking about death more and more. I hadn't seriously considered putting him into counseling because most of it is geared for slightly older children, but given how much of his time it seems to take up, he might be ready for more help than I can provide in understanding the meaning of death.
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