One of my favorite quotes is from Ferris Bueller. It says, “life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” There is so much truth behind that quote. Yet, I look at my life and feel that I am at a standstill. I often feel that life is moving on for those around me and my children, and here I am, stuck. 

This is not the first time I have mentioned that this is a rough time of year for me. This is where James’ diagnosis started to unfold. One year later, at the same time, this is where he began to decline. Even though time has passed, I don’t think that many realize that I am still suffering from the same hurt and survivor’s guilt that came in April 2020. I wonder, will it ever go away?

I look back, realizing that few things have changed since then. The biggest change has been family dynamics. I have never felt as alone as I do now. I ask: is it the holidays, or is it because my children and I are all truly alone? While I see people living their lives all around us, I feel that we are still stuck with this overwhelming feeling of helplessness. Sometimes it is all-consuming. I don’t want others to feel sorry for us, I never ask for pity. Instead, I desire to be understood. I crave respect. There have been times that I have found it lacking. 

I treasure the handful of people who have never left our side. Those people know who they are, and I am incredibly grateful. Beyond those who are physically here with us, there are those who work as a silent support system. They are the ones that I can call any time of day. I can’t imagine life without each of you. 

Just recently, I was home alone while my kids were spending the weekend in Reno. At 1am, the doorbell rang. There was no way I was going to answer the door at that hour. Instead, I let the person speak through the camera. A woman on the other side told me that her phone died and was asking for help. I asked for a phone number to call so she could get help, yet she did not have one to give me. 

With my kids being four hours away, I had to act quickly. There was no time to hesitate. They received an alert and wanted to know if I was safe. My oldest called my neighbor followed by my daughter-in-law. At that point, I was on the phone with 911. Before the police arrived, my daughter-in-law and neighbor had arrived at my door. I had hoped that the police would be able to help this girl. Yet, I was thankful that I had people to call on who dropped what they were doing and showed up within minutes. They helped make sure my house was secure and confirmed that the person at my door did not pose a danger.  I’ve watched enough crime news to know this could be a potential ploy to get me to open the door. I figured the police would be there to either protect this girl or protect me.

This experience has helped me realize that I am not as alone as I sometimes feel. My friends and family know that my children already lost one parent. I am confident that they will do everything in their power to make sure their mama is safe. I know my kids have a go-to plan. They were 4 hours away and were still able to follow through with making sure I was safe. As far as my daughter-in-law, she showed up ready for anything. Clearly, my daughter’s first calls were to the right people. She knew that between my DIL and my neighbor, I wasn’t alone. Thank you, Leanna and Sherry!

After James passed away, I was seriously considering purchasing a firearm. Looking back, I was in no position to have one. I have been healing daily while working on my mental health. I feel that I am finally ready to make that move. I have been looking for one, and with the help of a few knowledgeable people, I think I have found something that will work best for me and my home. 

This is another reminder that my kids mean everything to me. Sometimes I need them to protect me just as much as I find myself needing to protect them.