Home Sweet Home

Grief is peculiar at best. You think, "I've got it all together now, I did all the action points and the worst is behind me." And then it rips you in two and breaks your heart all over again. And then again. You don't really sleep, you just stop thinking about it for a few hours.

And then the alarm clock in your head reminds you of it and you start a new day of loss.

You think that each day will make it easier. Right now it just makes it more real. You think, "today I've only cried ten times"...as if the quantity of tears is a sign of progress. You think there could be shortcuts when you focus on the positive.

But there's no way around it...only through it (ugh).

People tell you to turn to God--and while I'm a believer in a higher power--the problem is, he's the one I'm most angry with right about now (since he's perfect, he will surely get over my beef with him). You're told he works in mysterious ways. But when you're grieving it just sounds like a really, really bad cliche.

People tell you "She's in a better place." You smile but you think about how if she's going to spend an eternity there the place could have waited a few more decades. What's a few more decades to the man upstairs? Just the blink of an eye, really. But for me, that time meant zillions of phone calls, giggles, silly cards, loving holidays and special celebrations. Arguments even, what I wouldn't give to have a knock-down, drag-out argument with her over politics right now.

My how she was looking forward to the upcoming political campaign...not sure if I've shared this but she was invited to Reagan's first inauguration--with only two years of political experience under her belt. That just doesn't happen unless you're monied up (we weren't)--or extremely influential (she was so naturally talented at bringing people together to advance a cause).

She was also the first woman ever to be elected Deputy Mayor in our New Jersey township (with zero political experience) and beat a seven-year incumbent...who told her to "just go back down south woman with your southern accent" swearing she'd never get even 10% of the vote. He wouldn't even shake her hand when she won by a remarkable majority...but she graciously extended hers and complimented him, telling him "that's the southern way, after all." Reason she won was two-fold: you couldn't not like her and she launched such creative campaigns.

Heck, we went to go see the broadway play "Annie" and during the middle of it when the lead was singing the famed song "Tomorrow...is only a day away" mom decided "Tomorrow will be a better day" would be her darn platform and campaign theme song. Damn if we didn't leave the show with a committment by the lead to sing the song in our front yard a week later for a press conference! For free. Let's just say that when you're 12 years old and Annie sings in your front yard you get to be the most popular kid at school all month long.

And Annie liked mom so much she came back to host a fashion show for charity. For free. That just doesn't happen...unless you're just that good a person (and yes, that great a marketer ;-).

But the worst part of grief? Feeling like everything you've done or do is just so very pointless. Especially when that's not your nature. My nature is about advancing good initiatives, good people and good practices. Certainly didn't make me rich, but it made me so very happy and wealthy in the important ways.

So right now I pray for two things: to "feel" her spirit again and to get my joy back. I need to thank this good community for helping me do both. As if the tremendous, outpouring of support wasn't enough (and it was)...the dedication of the eBook wasn't the single greatest thing that has moved me EVER (believe it)...today you have started a charity initiative for mom (and a cool graphic!). She would be so very proud tickled pink and you have honored her (and me).

She and I love Habitat for Humanity. It gives people homes; what's better than a home really? Dignity. You see, the people in need of homes actually build them right alongside the volunteer team so it's not so much "charity" as it is "community."

Want to know something special? The birthday present she had for me this year...that was waiting at the house for me last week...was a teddy bear from "Habitat for Humanity." She made a donation to the charity this year instead of buying me a present and received that in return: that's the bear in the pic at the top - his shirt says "Home Sweet Home." Ain't that cool?

I do promise this: I will always cherish, contribute to and protect this pure community. I've said it scores of times to friends and colleagues before this tragedy--and I was amazed at how fervently I felt about it then. So you can imagine how utterly core I feel about it now. These relationships are real, generous and wholly advancing...and give me so much joy.

Thanks for your continued patience with me and for being so amazing to me. At best, grief is just truly a peculiar process. Swear my momma is gonna kick my butt if this doesn't turn back into a marketing blog soon ;-).

Comments

[Drew McLellan]

CK --

Grief is an odd thing. It is a personal journey that is different for each person. And while it is your journey and you get to define and decide the path -- know that you do not walk alone.

Even when you choose to spend time alone (which is good and healing too)...we're at your side. Ready to walk when you are.

Drew

[Mack Collier]

After hearing of your mom's community-building abilities, I can see why she loved Habitat for Humanity. And she would LOVE that you got your bear that she had for you ;)

[Valeria Maltoni]

CK:

I am with you in spirit -- and still a train ride away. I wrote just today about pain and having to just go through it to get on the other side. What a magnificent way to share your mother with us. Thank you.

[mindblob]

CK,
These great memories will always be with you and the positive energy they carry will be there as well. And I agree with Drew... Take your time. "...we're at your side. Ready to walk when you are".

[David Reich]

Thanks once again for sharing with us, pal. We're all here for you.

[Mark Goren]

Hang in there, CK. It'll come. Just keep doing what you're doing and it'll come.

[shelbey]

hi ck,

i was enjoying your blog [have been reading some creativethining-blogs] and was sad to see this post. i myself lost my dad a couple of months ago. it was out of the blue, and he was relatively young-- only 60. he was deeply loved by many people.

reading this post was reading something i am living through-- the dismissive cliches, the irritation with "higher powers," and the determination to somehow power through it. i teach college composition [hence the no-caps...] and assigned a reading by elisabeth kubler-ross for the first time, because i somehow knew i could talk about it soundly. i'm surprised at the outgrowths of a deep grief. you will be too, since you seem sharp and astute.

best wishes,
shelbey

[David Armano]

CK,

I am in awe about that Teddy bear. How beautiful. One thing I've learned in life is that when you are going through a major crisis—people do not know how to comfort you unless they have gone through an earth shattering crisis themselves. Though I haven't lost a parent, I've gone through another kind of ordeal. I'll share this with you sometime privately.

Know that you have every right to be angry. At life and at God. Let it out and grieve any way you see fit. You've got some people out there who are thinking about you—we'll be here for as long as you need us.

I'm so sorry that you have to go through this. You are in my thoughts and prayers.

[Melissa Kerley]

Christy, your strength amazes me. Keep it up! --Melissa

[vaspers the grate]

It's been hard to figure out what to say, since you emailed me. I froze.

I lost my dad in 1990. I still break down and weep at odd moments. My deep heart can never get used to my dad being...dead.

Up until just a few years ago, I dreamed Every Night that my dad was still alive, the death being just a joke, a prank. Dad was a really funny guy, loved people, very hospitable, very comical, a laser expert at Caterpillar.

You will never get over this. Your grieving will never subside totally. This pain and loss will haunt you forever, but it can be a positive thing, a goad, a motivation, a celestial role model, an inspiration.

I want to say much more, but shall shut up now.

I lost my best and dearest friend, Gabe Kish, a few months ago. Devastating. Oh, I hate death. Death is insane.

[vaspers the grate]

P.S. When your heart breaks and you sob and all that other grieving stuff, which can be overwhelming and paralyzing...

...just remember to be glad you still can FEEL something for others, for family.

Some people have no feelings for others. I've seen sons rob their father's dead corpse to buy crack.

[Lewis Green]

I thinks Melissa gave something away, Christy. I love you girl and am available to talk anytime.