To live a creative happy life, we must loose our fear of being wrong and of being judged ... unknown

To live a creative happy life, we must loose our fear of being wrong and of being judged ... unknown

I realized today that this statement is the exact reason that I have not been writing lately.  My fear of being wrong or being judged... mostly judged.  

I spend a lot of time with thoughts, ideas and conversations I wish I could say out  loud or type, just to get them off of my chest or to encourage someone, or to show someone, "see?  I did do what I said and it turned out right."

But, those words, emails, thoughts, ideas, never made it to virtual paper or even real paper.  I always seem to find excuses for them not to do so.  The kids needed something, I needed to work on something or, the most simple but lazy one?  I forgot.

This past month and a half has been both good and not so good.  Work has seemed to level off a bit.  We hired a new resource and she's working out pretty good so far.  She's great to work with, a positive influence, caring and very, very self driven.  Sometimes a bit aggressive on the wanting to learn, but that's a good thing. :)  I want her to learn, but it's hard to let her go wild with what she volunteers to do, because we don't want her to bite off more than she can chew.  In the same sense, I don't want to quash the learning either.  :)  I'm very excited to have her as part of the team and REALLY glad that she's here in Orlando with me.  I foresee good things happening and us making progress once things get going again.  

We have had several projects that have crept up and one in particular that keeps getting delayed, therefore delaying other items waiting on it.  I'm about to put a halt on some of the other project so I can go get things done.  I'm tired of waiting and not showing any progress... but anyway, that's not really why I am writing today.

The bad part of the month has been pretty shocking to my entire family and riveting - life changing.  My father-in-law passed away from a self inflicted gunshot wound about 2.5 weeks ago.  It's very hard for me to type this out for several reasons.  One, I know the stigma that goes with everyone's thoughts on that.  The shock, the horror, the questions, the judging...  Know that while he took an extreme measure, his entire family KNEW that he loved them.  There is NO DOUBT in my mind at all about that.  Two, there are questions that the family is asking that will never have an answer and they have to wrestle with those in their minds for the rest of their lives.  Not an easy thing for them to do, nor should it be their burden.   

To be honest, a lot of that doesn't really  matter much now.  My mother-in-law, one of the STRONGEST people I have EVER known or WILL EVER know, will struggle to find these answers.  I pray that one day she finds peace with the bits and pieces that she finds and let her know in her heart that he is no longer suffering, whatever that cause may have been.  And that she knows that my family loves her completely, she is family.

My husband is struggling to find what he calls the "new center" to help find the balance or new normal to our lives.  He, too, is made up of strength that people only think superheroes have.  He is truly one of my heroes.  I worry about him and his introverted self and I keep poking and prodding every now and then to make sure he talks to me.  Even if only a little bit to make sure that he doesn't cause himself more issues, too.  

In talking to him today, we both admitted that it felt like we were forgetting something (we were getting ready to go to Downtown Disney for a walk around to get out), but we weren't.  I suspect it's going to feel like that for a while as we adjust. 

The kids are doing ok with it.  Alex doesn't seem to grasp the whole idea of the how, but he gets the "what".  He knows that Grandpa is no longer here, he's in heaven watching over them, and that Mommy, Daddy and his grandmother are sad.  And that it's ok for him to be sad about it, too.  He's seen us cry and he's cried with us.  

Ashleigh was the closest of them to Grandpa.  She struggled for the first week or so with the questions.  We explained it the best we could, that we didn't have the answers that would make it right or better and regardless of what he did in this one act, SHE was the apple of his eye.  Watching the two of them together made my heart (and the memories still do, even now) smile so big and proud.  It's something she will ALWAYS have, just like I do.  Knowing that her grandparents were 2 of her biggest cheerleaders (and still are) and that they love her with all of their being as it should be.

I've had people ask me if I told the kids the truth about what happened, and I am always shocked when they think that I wouldn't.  I didn't give any details to spare them some of the thoughts, but I don't want them to get to a point in their life where they think I lied to them about something this important.  You can't get past the part where it's "taboo" to talk about it, but if you ask me, I think that's part of the reason why it is so prominent.  Because NO ONE talks about it.  They don't educate early.  I'm not saying to scare the crap out of them with gory details to the point where they have nightmares.  But I am saying that the education needs to start early.  They need to know that for whatever reasons may have caused that thought, that they were not the cause.  That they always have a choice other than suicide.  That they have reasons to live, no matter how bad things may get or what you think the future may be.  Because if we don't start now and show them the pain, anguish and void that is left behind, they will think they don't matter either.  

One of my goals out of this whole thing is to educate people, not just my children, that this is not and SHOULD never be thought of as the answer.  I knew this before our experience and it has solidified my belief in it.  I know that depression and desperation are the evil thoughts that start it and I get that part.  Depression is a disease - an imbalance and it's hard to get out of.  I've seen only glimmers of it from my loved ones that suffer from it.  I urge ANY ONE who deals with it to please, please, please... get help.  Talk to someone, find a doctor.  If that doctor doesn't listen, find another one.  There is one out there with the key to help one step at a time.  PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE... take those steps.  The void left behind is damaging to everyone else around you and while depression will keep you from seeing it, it doesn't change the fact that it does.

I love my father-in-law as much as anyone could.  He was kind, caring, compassionate, funny and strong.  He and I had a rapport that can never be measured and I thank God for him, his son that turned out to be one helluva man, and the friendship that we had.  He is missed every single day, but I know now with him and my Dad together in heaven fishing?  My kids have awesome guardian angels.