Tuesday, December 23, 2008

A PP'sPs about Silverware

There are so many things that remind me of Christy; most remind me that she is no longer with me.

When I would do the dishes, I would always notice and be humored by the fact that there were always the same number of big forks as little forks. Because of her neck fusion and JRA in her jaw, Christy had to use little forks when she ate. I, however, being the big, strapping young man that I am, would always use big forks. There was always the same number of each.

A few days ago, I decided to do the dishes as it had been a while. When I was finishing up the silverware, it hit me that I didn't wash a single small fork. It hit me like a punch to the gut. I teared up right there, salinizing my now dingy dishwater.

Many of these moments are anticipated. I know that when I go to bed each night, she won't be there. I can prepare for that. It's the moments that sneak up on me, like the fork incident, that make this so blasted hard. Like when I was watching the finale to "The Biggest Loser" and Phil came out on stage. He had lost over 130 lbs! I sat up and actually said, "Christy, look..." I stopped. She wasn't there to share my shock at Phil's amazing transformation. But we always watched the finale together! Unfair! Oh well, I know that won't be the last of these moments. I only pray that future moments will hurt just a little less.

Dreaming of little forks,


Saturday, December 13, 2008

A PP'sPs about OCD

This is a strange development.

One of the things that I miss most about Christy is her OCD.
You see, I am not the most tidy person in the world. A pristine house is not a huge priority for me and never has been. It's never bothered me if dishes sat in the sink or if clothes were draped over the couch or if the bathroom sink was cluttered with toiletries.
Christy, on the other hand, was her mother's daughter. She was a neat freak. Even she would classify it as borderline Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Things out of place consumed her. Of course, the culprit for most of the disorder was yours truly. It was especially hard for her because she wasn't able to fix alot of the issues herself. She had to get me to do it.
Here is where it gets strange.
I miss that about her so much it literally hurts. When I walk by something that would have bothered her, it hits me in the gut like a ton of bricks. I yearn for the very thing that used to get under my skin: the boss setting me straight. I'm lost without her direction!
Here is where it gets stranger.
I mentioned that I get ill when I walk by one of those things that would have bothered her. Not only do I get ill, but some of the time, I actually fix the problem. She must have trained me well. For whatever reason, I try to keep the house close to what she would want.

I fall short, but I think she would be proud.

Desperately missing the boss,


Sunday, December 7, 2008

A PP'sPs about Hurdles

Well, I guess I got over another hurdle today...barely.

My church has a normally great tradition of hanging family ornaments on the Christmas tree in the sanctuary. Each family has a colored bulb with their name on it. I call each family name and a rep from the family (a child if applicable) comes up and hangs their ornament on the tree. It really is a fun and meaningful tradition.
However, the tree also has white bulb ornaments with the names of each of the members who have passed away over the years. This is where it got difficult!
In some past years, these names were also called during the service and a family rep put these on the tree. Luckily, it was decided that these white ornaments would be on the tree already and only the colored ones would be placed on the tree during the service. I would not have been able to do it.
Anyway, I purposely waited to place my ornament (a new one with only my name on it - very sucky!) on the tree last. Before the service I had located Christy's new white ornament and when it was my turn, I shakily approached the tree, placed my ornament gently next to hers, and proceeded to break down. I slowly made my way back to my chair on the stage, stuck my face in my hands and bawled my eyes out.
Buddy, the song leader, came up and led the congregation in a song while I attempted to compose myself. As soon as the song was over, it was my turn to preach! I honestly don't know how I even made it to the pulpit. But God took over and delivered His Word with clarity and conviction. To Him be the Glory!
I have a feeling there will be many more of these hurdles along the way. I only pray that God delivers me through those as well.

Hating the Hurdles,