Homesick...really?

I've spent the last two weeks traveling through Italy - visiting beautiful hilltop towns and crowded cities, meeting wonderful people and eating amazing food. It's been an awesome experience, but I'm a bit homesick. I guess this is the longest I've ever been away from home so it's kinda understandable, but really? I'm in Italy! I keep telling myself to suck it up and have a good time!

It's weird because as much as I'm looking forward to going home in a week, I'm also dreading it. I feel like this has been my greatest effort to escape reality and yet flying to another continent hasn't done it. When I go home Kate and Peter still won't be there, at least in their physical form. They'll still be dead. Ugh.

On the bright side, if there is one, I do feel a growing need to start living a 'normal' life again when I get home. I want and need some consistency and I need to feel grounded instead of just trying to pass the time and distract myself. After taking a few cooking classes in Italy, I think I am definitely going to go to culinary school. At least that's something to look forward to. Gotta just keep going....somehow.

I guess it takes six months...

for the shock to wear off. For the past few days I have experienced a type of sadness so much more intense than anything I could have ever imagined. I've cried a lot since April, but lately I seem to spend hours each day sobbing. My eyes hurt and wearing contacts is pointless. And I look fabulous...not that it really matters.

I guess this is how it goes, at least for me. I read a book about a woman who lost her son. She said she spent the first 6 months in a fog then entered a two year period of the worst pain she's ever experienced. I had forgotten I read that until just now.

I've been told that I have to let the sadness out so I can make space for love to replace it. Judging by the way I feel now, it's gonna take a lot longer than two years. But what other choice to I have. Bring it.

mobile uploads, part 2...

On the submarine at the Carnegie Science Center (they weren't supposed to climb on the bunks but, oh well)...

Peter awaiting his bagel and cream cheese at Whole Foods...

Kate in an outfit she created out of paper bags. It may not look like much in the picture, but I always thought she'd grow up to be a fashion designer. She used to make dresses for her barbies out of tissues...

I'm not sure where this was taken...maybe Mad Mex, where we ate quite often...

Also at the Carnegie Science Center. I think this exhibit was designed to simulate walking on a steel beam at the top of a skyscraper. I love how Kate is holding on to Peter...

Kate looking beautiful after having her hair cut and curled...

Peter often passed out in the middle of doing things. He played hard then slept hard...

The three of us trying on silly sunglasses while shopping for birthday party supplies at Party City. Birthdays were always a big deal...

Every day...

I wish this was some sort of mistake.
I can't believe it.
I miss them from the depths of my being.
I am grateful I spent the time I did with them and know that I am the luckiest mom in the world.
I try to find a way to undo this.
Some small part of me truly believes I can figure out a way to bring them back.
The rest of me knows I can't.
I spend a little time pretending they're just at school or asleep in their beds, because for a few seconds it feels good.
I'm heartbroken all over again when I realize they're not at school or asleep in their beds.
I want to know why them...why me?
I think there must be a reason.
I don't want to do it anymore, but know I have to.
I somehow get out of bed.
I rely on my friends.
I feel in my gut that they're ok and here somewhere.
I have to remember to breathe.
I feel guilty for all the things I did wrong...all the times I was impatient, overcritical, too controlling or wrapped up in my own little world.
I feel guilty for letting them get in that car that day, when Peter wouldn't stop crying. I should have known something was wrong.
I wish I had said goodbye and hugged and kissed them one more time because now I can't.
I think that if I could have somehow known, I would've done everything differently.
I wonder if maybe I did something to cause this or if I'm being punished.
I know I would give absolutely anything to have them back.
I cry.

I over schedule myself, knowing that the faster time goes, the sooner I will be with them.
I try to figure out what my purpose is now.
I wonder if I'll ever have more kids.
I cook because it's the one thing that truly engages me mentally and physically.
I try to be ok.
I am extremely grateful for all the people who support me and pray for me.
I wonder what Kate and Peter would want me to do and if they're watching.
I want to honor their lives and make them proud.

mobile uploads...

I got a new-fangled phone shortly before my kids died. Let me tell ya, it's not all that and a bag of chips. It's a phone, camera, internet browser, etc with a qwerty keyboard, but it's not really a good phone. So I recently pulled out my old phone and remembered that I have many, many pictures of my kids stored on it. I was only supposed to be able to store about 35 pictures, but for some reason I never ran out of memory so I have close to a hundred.

Today I started sending them to my email account one by one (there's no easier way to do it...I already asked). I found this adorable picture of them from October of 2006 and wanted to share it.

Here are a few more:

So I guess this is my new normal...

Well I've unsuccessfully tried everything I can think of to escape reality - distraction (staying busy), avoidance (sleeping), escape (traveling) and just plain ol' denial. I guess it's not gonna work. There is no escaping. No matter what I do, they're still gone. It's been six months today...and frighteningly enough, it's starting to feel normal.

I just spent a week with six of my closest friends on a fabulous tropical island. It truly was a perfect vacation. Great weather, a beautiful resort and wonderful people to spend time with. I tried my best to enjoy it and did experience moments of joy and laughter. However, the thought in the back of my mind every second of every day was "my kids are dead, how can my kids be dead".

Maybe it will always be this way. I question if I will ever know true happiness again without them here with me. I'm sure part of the problem is I won't allow myself to experience happiness, because somehow it seems like a betrayal of them. Even though it's not, it still seems that way. Countless people have told me, "they would want you to be happy". They're probably right. I guess I don't want me to be happy.

One of the most difficult things about traveling in the last 6 months was coming home and finding that Kate and Peter aren't here. It's not that I really expected them to be here, but it has felt so strange being in my house or my car without them. This trip was different. For the first time, coming home to an empty house felt normal. That's disturbing.

how honest can i be?

Writing this blog has been so helpful in so many ways, however I've noticed recently that I'm starting to be more careful and critical of what I write. When I first started blogging I made a disclaimer that I was going to be honest and uncensored, but that hasn't proved to be as easy as it sounded. For example, I thought twice (or thrice or four times) before publishing my 'tuesday night' post. It felt very negative and I have this need to always find something positive to say, but honestly, this is a shitty situation. I don't feel positive most of the time.

I'm also aware that what I write can cause people to worry about me. The purpose of this blog is not to elicit reactions or comments (though as I've said in the past, all of your comments are welcomed and extremely helpful) but to give me an outlet for what I'm thinking, feeling and experiencing. It will also hopefully help others to understand what grief is like...while someone is going through it...not in retrospect.

So let me just share this...for those of you who care about me and worry about me.

First of all, I appreciate everyone's love and concern, so don't think I don't want you do contact me, email me, call me, etc...to ask how I'm doing. Please do.

Secondly, I'm both ok and not ok. I think, given the circumstances, I am holding my own, functioning as a regular person...most of the time. However, there are times, many of them, in which I freak out....scream, cry, punch things, wish I had some illegal drugs to abuse and wish I could cease to exist. Which brings me to...

Lastly, I think a major concern of many people is that I may hit bottom and try to kill myself. I have struggled with depression in the past and felt close to suicidal. However, with this ginormous tragedy I have experienced a huge shift of the spiritual kind. I haven't become religious or anything like that, but as I continue to search and grow spiritually I also continue to try to figure out where exactly my kids may be (not that I think I can pin them down to a specific location). At this point I believe they are here, but in some other dimension or plane of consciousness. I can tell you all, with absolute certainty, that I will never, ever kill myself because of the fear that doing so may take me somewhere other than where my kids are. I'm just not gonna take that risk. So to make a long story short (too late, I know) you don't have to worry about that. Just sayin.

So back to the honesty and uncensored thing...I do question how honest and real I can be. I had a rather difficult experience earlier today that I would like to write about, but it was so fucked up that I think "can people really handle reading that?" I'm still deciding.

On a lighter note, what makes this blog sometimes difficult to write is that every one of my English teachers periodically pops into my head to tell me to correct my grammar or punctuation. I do my best to ignore them, but I have to say, they make me laugh. I guess they did teach me a few things afterall.