Journaling For Reflection

It’s the end of January and the new year is almost one month underway. The uncertainty of the world is definitely affecting my mindset.

I am no stranger to uncertainty. I experienced grave periods of deep, dark uncertainty after losing Christian. Grief teaches us that nothing is forever. That includes the good and bad.

When uncertainty strikes in my external world, it helps me to turn inwards and examine what changes I want to make. Since March 2020 I have been wearing more hats than usual, like most of us. In 2021 I aim to streamline my life as much as possible. To begin, I am organizing every area in my daily space.

Yesterday I began clearing off my desk. As I did, my vision board came into full view. It’s always somewhere on my desk but not always in full view. Not exactly how a vision board should be displayed, I know. Anyhow, I looked at it, examined it. I was curious to take in what all of those words and images meant to me a year ago. As I studied the large display, the words and images no longer spoke to me. This was a surprise.

My aspirations haven’t changed. They continue to revolve around the central idea of becoming a more spiritual person and helping others. The means in which I aim to go about it have shifted. With my focus pinned on the same outcome, it was interesting to see how my path, or my desired path, had changed.

In my urgency to get to where I am going I rarely look back at the journey I travelled. This is not necessarily the best practice. I am one of those people that looks at the “finished product” without always recognizing the blood, sweat and tears that go into it.

At the start of my grief journey, I remember a friend passing on some advice from a family member who lost a child. She said I should journal often, and not forget to reflect. Her reasoning was because it helps to see how the journey unfolds. There is so much wisdom in this advice. Oftentimes when we are stuck in the doldrums of grief we cannot recognize how much our outlook, emotions and thoughts have changed.

Change is scary in the grieving process. If we move toward healing, are we moving away from our loved one? Are we failing to remember or honor or properly grieve him or her? Such a scary thought! Through journaling we can see how our thoughts and emotions change and shift, but never at the expense of love. Healing doesn’t mean we forget or we move on. It means we learn how to live with our loved one in our life a different way.

One of the most amazing discoveries I have made since Christian ran ahead to Heaven is that we still have a relationship! It is not a figment of my imagination or generated simply from my hoping. It is a true relationship. Through my journaling and even quick note taking in this book I am able to see the development of my relationship with Christian. It illustrates his love for me and our everlasting connection. The continuing connection and relationship offers me hope. On days when our connection is not as strong, I am able to look back and see that he is always with me.

Whether you document your change, growth and healing in writing, art or any other way you feel drawn to, you will reap the benefits. It is hard to feel like we are making progress sometimes. That, alone, can contribute to feeling devoid of hope. When we look back and see how we have changed, a breath of fresh air fills us with the hope we have been missing.

Pay It Forward

I’m a day late this week because it has been a week of many things. Some of you who read this blog know that in January my husband and got word that our non profit foundation Love From Heaven – Christian Martinisi Memorial Fund Inc was approved!!

This Sunday is the first fundraiser. We are not changing the world with our little foundation but we are bringing help, relief and joy to people who need it. In the spirit of Christian’s legacy we are trying to be a “Rainbow in somebody else’s cloud”.

The mission of Love From Heaven is to provide resources, support and hope to families who experience unexpected child loss. We also memorialize Christian’s love of learning with a scholarship program.

We were, and are, beyond fortunate to be surrounded by people who did all of this for us. It is time for us to pay it forward.

Each day there is a positivity and light around us. Some days we need to search harder than others for it. It is there.

It can be as simple as a stranger’s smile to as grand as a community joining together to build a Memorial playground. Let’s keep it going by contributing in any way we can.

My family has seen what we hope to be our darkest days. It helps us to appreciate the tiniest bit of light. It also inspires us to create light, just as our community did for us.

If you have a minute check out the website for Love From Heaven or visit us on Instagram @lovefromheaveninc. And as always love to Heaven…

Expectations and Truth

Yesterday was one of those days. You know what I am talking about. A day where just about all you can handle is sitting on the couch and watching movies. My boys went into school at 10:30 and were home by 1:30, due to the weather. Thank God they made it home safely. While I had hoped for a longer amount of childless time, I am so grateful that the school district made a smart decision.

It definitely interrupted my movie watching though. Between being asked for snacks, arguing over every little thing and then being told that they really didn’t want the dinner I had cooked I was ready to explode. Then when I said, “I need a break!” It was met with my six year old’s answer, “That’s because you hate us.” Aaah, yes, pile on the mom guilt.

Being a mom is hard. Being a parent is hard. Being an adult is hard. Anyone who is reading this can probably agree with at least one or all of those statements! How can it be that some days you feel on top of the world like you have it all under control and the next day you are drowning? Some of this is certainly due to my circumstances but I do not believe that only bereaved parents feel this way. I know that is not true.

Recently I was having a conversation with a friend about how a few nights ago the bedtime routine went splendidly. So much so that Anthony, my eight year old, thanked Nicky for the hug he gave him in school that day. Then Nicky thanked Anthony for being included in a game with his friends. It ended with them both saying, “I love you” to each other. Not sure who those kids were but before becoming a parent I actually thought that there would be way more days like that.

When we examine what our beliefs or expectations are compared to reality, accepting reality can sometimes be so hard. In the case of raising children, you learn pretty quickly that there is a huge divide between what you expected and the truth. I will never forget a time when Christian threw a screaming fit in an outdoor mall and I had to carry him out. It was humbling. That’s for sure. At the time I felt like the biggest failure as a parent. I was still stuck in the pre-child mindset that my child would never do that. I can actually hear some of you laughing out loud because you know what I mean!

The me of today knows that the exact opposite was true. I was doing a great job as a parent that day. Christian was doing a great job of being a kid. We were both doing exactly what we were supposed to be doing. (Don’t even get me started on the supposed to’s.) Nonetheless, it took time, experience and multiple children to learn this.

Expectations are the measure by which we define where we want to be. If we set them too low, we are not accomplishing what we are capable of. If they are too high we experience failure. There are some areas of my life where I am in tune with where my expectations need to be. Other areas I am still learning. The saying, “Patience is a virtue” is a mantra that I repeat quite often. It takes patience, time and experience to first learn where to set your expectations, then how to reach them, then to actually reach them. It is certainly not a linear process. We must experience some days on top of the world and others when we are drowning.

Today I am right in between. I’m not exactly on top and I’m not exactly drowning. After all that madness yesterday I couldn’t bear to even deal with the bedtime routine. I collapsed into bed and asked my husband to put both boys to sleep. Even though he had a long day dealing with the snow, important meetings at work and coming home to a crazy wife who was still the pajamas he left her in, he did. Thank God. Right before Nicky went to bed he came to me and gave me a huge hug and kissed me tenderly on the top of my head. Just like that I melted. It was a kind of nourishment for the next day, a kind of payment for parenting being so difficult. Never in my imagination could I have known just how hard it would be to parent children. I also could have never imagined just how much I would love these children. Love to heaven…

The Blank Canvas

With the New Year upon us and a fresh blank canvas laid out before us, many adults commit to different ways they are going to change their lives. They iterate goals they would like to reach and set out in pursuit of them. Not unlike others I have goals but I tend to reevaluate them on a regular basis, so I did not make any hard and fast resolutions this year. It occurred to me this morning that it was time to have the talk about 2019 goals and resolutions with my boys, especially my eight year old.

Each month at school the Principal’s Award is given to one student in each class. As I launched into my lecture about how he may be able to receive it if he worked hard and went above and beyond, he responded with an answer that reflected his personality. “I am going to let other people get them. I am not out only for myself”. This led me to have a talk with him about how that is a beautiful attitude in some areas but that we all need to have something we are working towards, striving for. He looked at me and said, “I am not working towards the Principal’s Award. I want to reach a goal that is closer”. It was only then that I realized that my anxiety had informed this lecture. Didn’t all children wish to be recognized by the Principal while the whole school looked on? Or is that my hope for him? Each time I open my Facebook feed on the first Friday of the month, I am reminded that my son has not received the Principal’s Award since Kindergarten. In turn that leads me to berate myself about how I am not doing enough as a mother. He needs to read more, practice his math facts more and watch less TV. Changes may need to be made, but nothing positive comes out of me criticizing myself. What really needs to happen is that I need to take a step back and separate my insecurities about mothering from him as a student. Furthermore, the Principal’s Award is not the measure of him as a student or me as a mother. (As I sit and write these words I feel quite neurotic but I know that if I am feeling this way so are others!)

While I quickly reigned in my anxiety, the urgency in my voice quelled and I asked him what his goals were. He explained to me what he wanted to achieve. Now the fire returned to my voice, but not in an anxious way, in a motivational way. “Well, let’s reach this goal! What do we have to do in order to crush it? Let’s get started right away!” For a second there I felt like I was on a big stage giving a motivational speech. It worked though. I saw the fire ignite in him. The drive that I was so afraid he was lacking, kicked in. It was there all along. I just wasn’t tapping into it.

It is easy to relate to my middle child as his personality mirrors mine in many ways. Fear of failure sometimes affects how I set and achieve goals. Part of the reason I reevaluate  my goals frequently is because I need to make sure they are a stretch but still attainable. My trainer, Jessika Ramie of FYTE.co, often says, “We may have to adjust our expectations.” Through this mindset, and with her help, I have been able to structure my goals and plans to reach them in a way that fosters success. In turn, my confidence is boosted and I am willing to strive for more and more. My aim is to scaffold this same experience for my son. The more confident he feels, the more he will try. If we have no goals and nothing to strive for, we make much smaller leaps and bounds in life.

Striving to be our best is a lesson that is important for my boys to learn. They must know that their best means their best. In a world where competition runs rampant it is easy to get caught up in it. For some people this means they may become obsessed with it. For others, like my middle child and myself, it means we shy away from it due to fear of failure. I am so grateful for my husband who is always quick to remind my boys to believe in themselves. If he hears self doubt in their words, he is quick to correct them by replacing their negative words with positive ones and making them repeat after him.

There are kids who instinctively have less fear of failure and more drive. Whether it is a competitive nature that feeds it or a need to be the best. My middle guy is more sensitive in that way. He is aware of not wanting to take away from others. As I explained to him, there is a time and place for that. Individual goals mean that you don’t have to take away from anyone else. As I write this, it is so clear that individual goals would have been the way to motivate him from the start. It is in his nature to achieve on a individual level where he doesn’t feel the pressure of competing with anyone else.

This simple, ten minute talk with my eight year old taught me so much, in more ways than one. It taught me about him, myself and my parenting. It reminded me why it is so important to be in tune with my boys. It also reminded me of the joys and beauty of being a parent. My husband and I will support our boys in the best way we know how. We will make mistakes and so will they, but as long as we keep the lines of communication open and the love flowing, we will design these blank canvases together. Love to heaven…