My friend is moving away.

Tomorrow.

It sucks.

I was going to sit down and write this fun, light-hearted post, but I am afraid that I have been in serious denial that my bff is about to get in a moving van and go all the freaking way to Texas.

And it has finally caught up with me today.

And. it. blows. big. hairy. donkey. balls.  (I had to put that illustrative bit of awesome in JUST FOR HER.)

I do have friends here, good, cherished and loved friends, but man, I live in a small place. It’s not the easiest thing to find someone that has walked the walk of losing a child, ‘gets’ blogging, AND knows all my weird and horrible, no good, very bad bleck!…and still likes me anyway.

And she LIVES HERE.

And Internet friend that gets all of the above, like me not even having to explain anything regarding the child I lost because she just knows already (which is PRICELESS), that I could actually DO THINGS WITH, FACE-TO-FACE, REGULARLY. I guess you’d have to have the majority of your friends live in a box on your desk to get how much this means.

We have had an awful lot of fun together–going to (and knitting at) (HER, NOT me) movies, lunches, hanging out at houses, watching our kids play, picking up the phone to hear things like, “Hey, I actually took a page out of the “Loralee playbook”…don’t worry, it’s a GOOD thing!”, and her telling me that if she had a super power it would be to be elastic. “You know, so I can drive and nurse at the same time!” (Did I mention the woman has been nursing for, oh, the last 8 years or so?)

Plus, she fits my sense of weird.

This really says it all. (I can’t take her anywhere.)

When I was younger, I would hear lines in movies about people being afraid of opening up or extending or having friends because it meant they could be hurt.

I honestly marveled at that.

I didn’t get it. Even though I suffered my fair share of hurt, I was never scared of the prospect of it. It didn’t occur to me to be afraid, I just jumped in, with both feet. (I also thought that things like friends moving away didn’t phase adults. LIES!)

I’m older.

I get it now.

I get why people are afraid to make friends with people.

Because losing them, or having it blow up, or end badly, suuuucks.

It makes even the most outgoing, gregarious, people-loving people gun shy.

And I think I’m there at this point.

I feel things deeply. Always have, unfortunately, probably always will. I have always been a very emotional creature. (SHOCKING, IS IT NOT?!) Such a ‘heart on my sleeve’ person, but honestly… right now, looking over my life and this past year, I don’t think it has served me all that well.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, I hate change. Even though I know it’s inevitable.

I’ve had so much change this year.

So much.

For the good and the not so good.

Right now, I need that to stop.

It’s really upheaved me emotionally and I don’t think I can take much more of it. (The roller coaster ride of it all is certainly not making a lot of my other relationships easier, ya know?)

Or losing anymore people.

Relationships.

SO, IT WOULD BE SUPER GROOVY IF MY FRIEND WOULD JUST MAGICALLY BE ABLE TO STAY IN THE VALLEY, YOU KNOW???

Ugh.

I’m not really sure what I’m going to do without her.

It’s not like we’re breaking up.

It’s not like there is bad feeling.

It’s not like we aren’t in the same internet/bloggity/conference circles and that I have no hope of seeing her again.

But things will be different.

Because that is just how life IS, dammit.

(Right now? Life can just go suck a freaking DUCK, people. The big butthead.)

I seriously don’t even have a negative memory with Kim (except this whole SHE IS LEAVING ME thing), so I KNOW I will have nothing but smiles, fondness, laughter, good feelings, well wishes and yes, above all things, I am THRILLED and so thankful and happy and grateful that her family is being taken care of and that her husband has a great job and they are moving to a great place.

ALL of that is true and certain and it will come to be how I feel about the whole thing.

But right now?

I am going to play this on youtube eleventyhundred times because I am cheesy and THIS IS HOW I MOURN, PEOPLE. (Dude, I don’t even want to get into the great “When She Loved Me’” SOB fest of ’99 when my college roommate, Amy, moved away.)

I can remember all the good things and be happy and grateful LATER.

Right now I am just going to go cry big, fat tears and feel crappy.

Because I’m really sad.

She’s going away, and frankly, that deserves some tears because our friendship means a lot to me.

AND IRONICALLY, I COULD REALLY USE A FRIEND RIGHT NOW.

(RIGHT?!)

I can’t see the screen anymore, so I will stop the torture for you all and turn my attention to meh bestie: Thanks for marshmallows, and baby slings, and Indian food, and sushi and endless phone conversations over dishes, and helping me when I’ve been sick, and talking to random friends, and “Yeah. YEAH!”, and that one time you got me to go the gym, and sewing eleventyhundred table cloths, and gluten-free coconut cupcakes, and just loving a very flawed person, Kim.

I love ya.

And?

I will miss you so.

Somehow I know, we’ll meet again.
Not sure quite where and I don’t know just when.
You’re in my heart so until then…
Wanna smile…
Wanna cry…
It’s time for saying goodbye.

~Fozzie Bear

I broke my tooth on Sunday eating, wait for it…RICE. I spent a good deal of time in the ER. (I know, right?!) (Stupidest reason EVER and yet, so very necessary.) I had to have urgent dental work done on Monday and spent it and part of today recovering, so my apologies that I am a bit behind.

Bear with me if I show you a few of the Christmases my family has had? I tried to pick a memorable photo from each year since I’ve been blogging.

2010

(Yeah, yeah…but it was the best we could manage. Butterlump is entranced by the light on the camera timer.)

2009

(Holy clash of pattern, Batman!)

2008

(Memorable because I was pregnant, puking my guts out and ill and this is one of the very few photos I have of the day.)

2007

(Gosh, my kids have grown so much in 3 years.)

2006

(See below*)

2005

(Truly, one of the great photos of all time.)

*I didn’t have any family photos posted in 2006. After I read this, I remembered why and I thought it was worth mentioning. Like I said in the original post, “it is one of the most lovely and bittersweet Christmas moments I have ever had and I needed to write it down before time dims the recollection, although I am not sure it could.”

My great-niece, Fiona, is visiting from England. She is two months old and is so very cute. She also reminds me very much of Matthew, my Little Bug. I have been missing him pretty acutely this season.

It isn’t the gut-wrenching sense of loss I have had at times. I am very happy with my life and family right now. Everything is going better than it has in a long, long time. Still, I miss my boy. Especially at Christmas. He never got to see even one and that hurts me a lot. Christmas focuses on the baby Jesus and the miracle of his birth. Matthew will always be a baby to me, so I think of him often during the holidays. I have also seen all the versions of A Christmas Carol this season, and I have cried at each of the scenes involving Bob Cratchet and Tiny Tim. I am sure it contributed to missing my little one.

In addition to my film nostalgia, my brother-in-law got married on December 23rd and all the family came up for the wedding. It was wonderful to see everyone, especially one of Jonathan’s cousins and his wife. We were pregnant at the same time and our boys were born within a week of each other. We had such fun at family gatherings talking about baby stories and sharing tips and comfort with one another.

When we were all seated for the wedding dinner, I looked over at where they were seated and saw their little boy who would be just Matthew’s age. I watched him playing around in his seat and being helped by his mother and wondered how big my boy would be and if they would have been playing together at the dinner if Bug had lived.

I sat at the table and a wave of intense sadness washed over me. I missed my boy. I thought how I miss his chubby hands, his soft cheek and kissing him on the bridge of his nose. I miss munching on his tummy and watching him splash in the tub. I miss watching him munch on a pacifier and all the sounds he made.

Just then I looked down at my plate. There was one solitary lady bug crawling on it.

A lady bug.

In December.

Jonathan saw it, too. We looked at each other and both our eyes welled up for a moment. We let the tiny creature crawl on our hands and fingers for a moment and let our boys see it before carefully putting it in a warm section of the room out of harms way.

Watching that small, colorful bug crawling happily on the white tablecloth lifted my spirit immeasurably. It was like someone took my heart and soul and gave it a warm bath and a hug all at the same time. To think such comfort could come from such a tiny, tiny thing?

Some may say that it was coincidence and that though it is very rare to see a lady bug this late in the winter, it isn’t impossible. I say that it was a very needed gift from a very special boy who knew his momma missed him at Christmas. I’ll always be grateful-coincidence, or no.

I’ll never forget it.

God bless us, every one.

I truly hope that you had a lovely holiday and if it was difficult, or painful as the holidays are often wont to be, that you found some comfort in it, even if it was tiny and small.

xo,

Loralee

This has been one of the busiest years on record.

I feel like I have made so many things and deadlines and projects just by the skin of my teeth.

My house is not decked as I usually have it at Christmas (and it was never overly decked to begin with). We finally threw our hands up and settled for our tree being covered with white lights and (to fulfill my 11-year-olds never ending wish and request) a gajillion candy canes for ornaments because neither Jonathan or I had the energy or will to dig through our storage unit for Christmas decorations that we were not all that excited to expose to the adorable tornado of wee that is Butterlump this year.

I did a great deal of my Christmas shopping today amongst the crazy that is last-minute shopping.

(I may require years of therapy for the hyena pit that was WalMart.)

In many ways I have been a Christmas season failure compared to other years.

But…

I have made and delivered a gazillion (and one) pans of Pioneer Woman buttery, smothered and to-die-for cinnamon rolls for friends and family to have on Christmas morning for breakfast.

I’ve made boxes and boxes of my sweet and spicy nuts as gifts of love.

My killer sweet potatoes, baked beans and baked brie are all ready to be made for Christmas dinner.

We welcomed home my Father-in-Law from Afghanistan (and plan on spending lots of time with him until he has to go back in 3 weeks) and we had a lovely Christmas Eve at their house with gifts and music and love and food. (And I did all the dishes so my MIL wouldn’t have to clean up.)

I got to see my own parents and make sure they had goodies to munch on on Christmas Eve.

And most importantly…

I’ve tried my best to show the people that I love and care for my feelings by word or gift or deed.

Because it is Christmas.

The most charitable, loving time of the year.

If you can’t tell people how you feel about them at Christmas, when can you?

And before I set off for my favorite time of the year–when I put on Christmas music and wrap gifts with Jonathan by candle light and we clean and ready our snug little house for our family’s Christmas morning–I HAD to tell you all how much you mean to me.

This little blog has changed my life.

For the better.

I have loved getting to know each one of you. (Yes, even you back there. The lurker. With the red sweater. You can’t hide from me. ;) )

You’re the bee’s knees, people.

And it just wouldn’t be Christmas without telling you so.

Happy holidays to you and yours,

xo,

Loralee