For those of you who have dealt with grief, you know that it hits you when it’s most inopportune. Last night was my anniversary dinner, a time to celebrate 4 years with my Babe….and grief decided it was time to remember my dad. Yes I had a few glasses of wine. Over the years my dad would tell me about the cards he would send to my Bro for his anniversary. Now all I can think about was how dad “wasted” his years celebrating my brothers anniversary. I realize this sounds extremely harsh but as siblings we have always been at odds, he was jealous of the lifestyle I was given (“spoiled brat”) and I’m extremely jealous of all the time he got with dad. It’s very difficult. I often find myself crying at milestones like holidays, which in my mind is logical…but of course grief is not logical nor does it give a shit when it strikes. I recently was given the link to a Ted talk about grief and the speaker said, “we don’t ever move on we move forward.” Each day is different, each day my grief finds a way to peek its head out, each flare up (or better said, each time it brings tears to my eyes immediately) is unique and therefore each time I embrace the grief is a little different. Sometimes I let it envelope me, sometimes I brush it off for a more “appropriate” place to address it (it can be very uncomfortable to cry in the drive thru at Wendy’s or walking through the airport….oh wait I’ve already done that), sometimes I shove the grief down because maybe if I ignore it, it will go away (spoiler alert, it actually just gets worse when you bottle it up). Regardless of time (“time heals all”) this grief will always be a part of my story, which means there will always be something that reminds me of what I had and what was lost but as time goes on the reaction will be different. It may hurt a little less, but it’s also possible it hurts just as bad, “we don’t move on, we move forward”….

For the past 13 years Mothers Day has been an emotional day for me. Every year prior to 2005 was filled with flowers, laughter and love. Each year my mother would have a plant sale and I would help by selling cookies. This was my mother’s choice on how she wanted to spend her holiday. For months she would plant the flowers in our basement and as they would grow they would move up a level in our house until eventually all 2,000 plants would be sold on mothers day weekend. When mom died, Mothers Day was brutal, I hated going to church and being reminded that once again I was “motherless”. My first mothers day I spent pouting in my room. With each guy I dated I poured the love I couldn’t share with my mother onto their mother (only two guys, one of whom is now my hubby). I am not complaining, I have enjoyed it, each mom deserves to feel loved and special. Now that I am a mother I am torn. I don’t want to give anything for anyone else that day (because I give everything to everyone all day 364 days a year), but I also don’t want to just sit at home by myself. As a caretaker (both physically for my child and mentally….for everyone, even if they don’t necessarily want it) I struggle allowing someone else to care for me or just letting go and not taking care of others. But, damnit this needs to be a day I get to choose how it’s spent. Now, I don’t know how much of this struggle is real and how much I have conjured in my mind because I don’t want to be overlooked but this year I fear being “missed” in this mothers day “battle” between mother in law and myself. She clearly has been a mother longer than I have and so she is seasoned in this holiday, I am new to this. Though this is my second year as a mother on this day it still feels so new. My mother in law had a list of “tasks” she wanted completed as her “gift” this year and I was asked to complete one. I don’t think the intention was there to hurt but I couldn’t help but think…”cool, this is going to be all about her”. I discussed this with my hubby and he agreed that he would do the task we were designated to complete. (brownie points hubby)  I asked around and apparently this is not unheard of that new moms have a little “struggle” with their mother in law. I had people tell me that I don’t have to spend that day with my in laws as it’s my day too and I deserve to spend it with my family. I totally get that but at the same time I love my in laws and I want to cherish as much as I can while I still have them. So, we compromised this year, Hubby and I are going on a little getaway this weekend, then on Sunday we do Mothers Day dinner with the in laws. Clearly I’m not afraid to tell my hubby (or most people) how I’m feeling, maybe not always in the smoothest way, but especially lately, Mama Bear Caity comes out and will fight anyone who gets in the way. I don’t know what Mothers Day is “supposed” to look like but I want it to be special to me and that includes feeling special and helping make my mother in law feel special as well. Mothers Day can mean many different things to different people, I hope that if you are a Mother you find what brings you joy on this day and communicate it with your spouse because unfortunately they don’t read minds.   

With everything that has happened in my life, the death, the loss, the betrayal, and the sheer attitude of some family members has caused me to embrace being an orphan more than I should have. More than I needed to. This past week my aunt and uncle, my mother’s sister and her husband, came to visit us from Minnesota. We haven’t seen each other much in the last 10-ish years, for several reasons, time constraints, money, and of course…deaths. When mom died it was very hard for all of us to see each other, it was hard for my aunt to come to “the cities” and stay at our house and for me it was very difficult to see her (as mom and her sister were often mistaken as twins). With my anxious mind I started to set up walls and boundaries that did not allow these family members in, whom we once shared holidays with consistently. With the way my brother and I have ended things it was even easier to just “cut it off” mentally and pretend like I was fine being that way. The moment I was able to hug my aunt and uncle I knew I had been going about this all wrong. The love, the connection, the comfort, and the familial …everything, just came flooding in. As I sit here writing this, I’m holding the tears back because I miss them so much already and they only left 4 hours ago. The time that we were able to reminisce about everything, yes we did re-live both my parents deaths and events surrounding them and yes, there were tears shed, were so incredibly valuable that my heart feels full. I didn’t realize how much I needed them until I saw them and they hugged me, it felt like home. OH, and how quickly Kylie bonded with them was INCREDIBLE. (sidenote: I truly believe children can see “spirits” and so I know that she knows my mom ‘oma’ and my dad ‘papa’) When she saw my aunt, it was almost immediate. Not only with my aunt but with my uncle, who may not look like papa flemino but he reminds me an awful lot of him. Kylie was in love, she knew they were family and knew that not only did I, but she needed them too. The last few days I have had the pleasure of watching these three create memories and share hugs like something out of a rom-com…baby style :-). I am so grateful and cannot wait to see them again.

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Oofta. Guys, I have now had two asthma attacks in the past 3 weeks. I had asthma as a child but I’ve only used my Albuterol rescue inhaler for exercise. Now I’ve been to the doctor twice (one of which was urgent care), had a nebulizer treatment and now I’m roided up. As someone who usually pushes through just about anything and everything (not a healthy choice usually) its very tough and very dangerous to just “push” Through the whole lungs being stressed deal. For most of the last three weeks I have been coughing and had a rubber band vice that tightens around my chest throughout the day. This means, my vice for anxiety relief…working out…is out. Or if not totally out its very very minimalist. Just when I thought I had life in a head lock…haha, I get put into a half Nelson. What’s that saying? If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. HA! Good one. Anyways, now I have two inhalers and my doctor has ordered pulmonary functional tests (check my lung capacity and assess what’s next). So since my working out will be on the DL now I’ve had to find other ways to focus on the positive and reduce my Anxiety. I started (at the advice of my life coach and BFF) writing down 5 things I’m grateful for each night before I go to bed. If you know me, you know that I have scoffed at least 5x just since thinking about writing “gratitude” its just such a tough topic. I know it’s needed but it’s one of those “kick in the pants” needs, not a gentle hug in the sun…(Yup, no idea where that came from, but you understand it’s not a gentle nudge in the right direction). I think it’s helped a bit, albeit sometimes I’m just grateful that “I’m finally in bed and no one needs me” or “grateful for the sunshine”…that’s OK. Its a start. 🤗

In my most recent blog post I discussed how my father’s estate had finally been closed, now almost 1 week later and I have yet to hear regarding my final instructions (as far as distributing the assets). Therefore, not much has changed. Coincidentally I have decided to cease taking my anti-anxiety medications (“happy pills”) as I like to call them. Before I briefly explain why I need to start out by saying I have NO qualms against taking medication for anxiety or depression, as it can be necessary and incredibly helpful, but I’m starting to think that this is not currently me. Since I have the misfortune of being very familiar with the angel of death I have started to see emotional and physical patterns that have emerged around these traumatic situations. I feel as though the emotions, the anxieties, the hurt, the pain, the joy, the love, etc that I’m currently subject to, are all necessary for my current state of healing. To clarify, I don’t feel as though I need to medicate, although it is possible that as I continue without the medications I may find I do function better with them. However, I want to see if I can learn to manage them on my own. Another reason I have decided to do this is because I’m working closely with my counselor and a life coach who are both guiding me on the journey to better emotional health, as in “caity, stop stuffing the emotions down until you explode, it’s not the best.” blah blah blah, (haha when I don’t want to initially admit someone has hit the nail on the head I use sarcasm to respond). And to clarify I do agree with both of them, it has only gotten worse as life moves on and I want to address this so I can enjoy and feel all the emotions on a realistic and appropriate timeline. Also, so that red wine continues to be my friend and not my shoulder to cry on…it’s weird, when you stuff those emotions down long enough they always find some way to release without your help…hence the red wine *insert face palm emoji*. At baseline, I feel emotions (all of them…good, “bad”, ugly) strongly and consider myself to have a highly sensitive nervous system. To give you a glimpse into my current emotional “health” when my liquor gets on top of me (which doesn’t happen often) or I avoid it long enough that my anxiety turns into a panic attack the storm of emotions is like a category 5 hurricane. I’m not exaggerating, it literally feels exactly like the moment we pulled mom’s life support and when I (as power of attorney…oh and 8 months pregnant) had to confirm with the doctor “please cease CPR, dad wished to be DNR.” While death is huge and I believe it can elicit these emotions even years later, I still battle with this severity on a regular basis and my mother died 13 years ago. The worst part is that the undercurrent of depression that usually follows takes me out of commission for several hours the next morning or for the rest of the day. I know it is healthy to release the emotions but these are such extremely exhausting episodes I just want relief. Wow, ok, that got deeper than I expected to share, so if you need a tissue…or a glass of red wine, I would completely understand. Just beware of the “whole bottle” consequences…. ya, ya, hubby I know, it’s not the whole bottle, more like 3 glasses consequences” -he’s always giving me shit for being a lightweight.

Today (4/2/19) marks the end of a year long battle with my brother regarding my father’s estate. Unfortunately we were never close so this battle shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Plus as the younger sibling, by 22 years, my brother did not agree that I was chosen as dad’s personal representative. Lawyers were involved, extensive fees were incurred and tears were shed. If dad can see this I know he is heartbroken, which makes me feel terrible. Today the final account was closed, based on a “settlement” we agreed upon through our lawyers, and “blessed” by the judge. Honestly, I’m not sure I knew what to expect or how to feel when this all ended. This battle has taken up a year of my life, it was mentally exhausting, I was always on edge and emotionally drained. On top of this I (attempted) to juggle the grieving process and raising my spunky little daughter. Now that this is over my thoughts are totally scattered. I hoped that I would feel some sort of closure or feel better..maybe I will in the future.

Here’s another aspect, I told my brother I don’t want to talk…ever again once this is over. (I don’t want to hear it, this is a well thought out decision that is based on my family’s best interests). My hubby and I were chatting recently about the estate being closed, that means that I may not even know when my brother dies… Wow. Just wow. Again, I don’t regret this decision, but my blood line has diminished very rapidly. I’m only 30!

More to come as I process this.

Ever since I started this blog, I have (multiple) daily conversations with myself about what to write about next. It’s really crazy what social media does to our brains, but that’s not what I want to write about.

Today I want to bring up a topic that all of us are familiar with, gym-timidation. In case you are unaware, I should start with what gym-timidation is, it’s the attitudes, actions and judgments frequent gym members aim toward people who are new to the gym, starting either Jan 1 (resolution time) or for summer (gotta get that summer bod). I have also been guilty of this in the past, thinking that my time on the machines is more important than anyone else’s or even thinking that those new members won’t continue so why not just give up now? As a physical therapist (and person), I am deeply ashamed to admit that I have ever had those thoughts. Why can’t we as a culture help those new members stick to their plans and encourage them? I was at the gym yesterday and walked past two clearly seasoned gym-goers (they had all the muscles) they were complaining about how there are all these new members coming to the gym to get their “summer bods” and how annoying these new members can be. It’s just so unfortunate that this even has to be a conversation. I have been a “new member” only going at certain times of the year before and it took all of me to keep going and push myself, that alone wasn’t enough though, I had friends help encourage me. Guys, we can’t do this life alone, why should we have to do the gym alone? Why can’t we just help encourage one another and get our heads out of our own toned butts long enough to see that?

I thought I would explain the title of my blog as it does seem like a strange thing to say.
“Doesn’t everyone’s feet touch the ground” you might ask. Yes, in fact, that is the point. I only stand at a mere 5″ 1′ and both of my parents were vertically challenged as well. Mom was 5″ 3′ and Dad was (almost) 5″ 4’… my gene pool combined with my love and dedication to gymnastics I barely reached 5″ by the time I graduated high school. In fact, dad and I joked about having a party themed around my accomplishment of reaching 5″. My claim to fame, I was the tallest in 5th grade…I just stopped growing while everyone else continued. Growing up my dad always told me, “if anyone gives you a hard time about your height just respond with ‘at least my feet still touch the ground.'” My dad was full of these ridiculously amazing sayings, I don’t know it’s specific orientation but I loved the confussled look I would get whenever I repeated this statement. (Yup, you guessed it, confussled is another dad-ism). Throughout this blog I plan on “learning you” (another one) all the good ones so perhaps we can continue his traditions.

Over and out.

Caity

I firmly believe that everyone’s story is important and necessary to share, as you never know who could really use your experience to help them through their own experiences. With that said, I’m not quite sure what will become of this blog but I’m ready for whatever is in store. My name is Caity, I am 30 years old, wife to my hubby of (almost) 4 years, mom to my spunky 13 month old, and fur mom to our 7 year old puppy dog.
I love God and wouldn’t be alive without Him. By birth I am an only child to two wonderful parents who no longer grace this earth with their presence but unfortunately by blood I have a half “brother” who is much older than I. Spending time with friends, exercising, drinking, cussing…these are just a few of my favorite things. I wouldn’t say that I’m negative… but I do tend to jump to the negative assumptions much faster than I care to admit, oh wait, I just did. I have dealt with my fair share of pain, heart break, and emotional turmoil in my life which I will get to throughout this blog. I strongly believe that everything that has happened in my life has made me the person I am today, therefore I try not to regret the past. I’m not perfect so I am definitely embarrassed of things in my past and wish I wouldn’t have had to learn the lessons the hard way but apparently that is how I learn best. Now that I have told you a little about myself I am excited for this new adventure and hope a few of you join me along the way.

Caity

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton