Half your life

My baby will be 2 tomorrow. Last night we had a little party for her. Nothing huge, more just something to mark the day.

Today I can't stop thinking that she has now spend half her life without knowing her Pappa.

She is such a happy little girl. Obsessed by puppies and crazy about soft toys, she is always laughing and playing and brings me much joy.

The 8 months following Jouke's death she wasn't doing so well. She was hard work, she was clingy and impossible to deal with. But one day, almost overnight, she started to sleep better and cry less and wasn't scared of people anymore. For now she is doing ok and, for now, I think she has dealt with her grief.

This (I know it sounds weird), makes me sad. Sad that she now has no idea what it is like to have a Pappa. Sad that she touched a man's face the other day and was freaked out by the stubble. Sad that she will grieve one day for someone she does not know.

Beautiful Alani, Jesus gave you to me because he knew that I would need you as much as you need me. You are such a ray of sunshine. The gleam in your eyes and the speed with which you get around will forever remind me about your wonderful Pappa. You were given his energy and lust for life and adventure and he would have just loved getting into mischief with you. We love you honey. Have a wonderful day!

Pappa in the sky

So far I have been talking mainly about how I am dealing with grief. Strange as it may sound, its the easy option. By far easier than talking about how my kids are fairing. The sadness in their eyes, their tears and their questions are tough. As a mother we are programmed to fix our children's pain. Band-aids, kisses and cuddles - these are our tools. Love is what I have been given. Tonight it doesn't feel like enough.

"When Pappa come down from the sky...."

This is how Anja's questions start. I gently remind her every time that he wouldn't be coming down from the sky, he can't come back. She refuses to believe. Its normal for a 3 year old not to understand the permanence of death, but its cruel. Cruel that she lives in hope not realizing that her hope, her dream, can never be true.

She sobbed on Tuesday night "I want Pappa back!!". I cried with her, for her.

"Jesus isn't real", she said, "you just say He is to make me feel better."

I sat there stunned. I thought we adults had the corner on doubt. I was wrong. We talked, I asked more questions and explained again about heaven, about Jesus.

"Then I want to go to heaven. When can I go?" Again, stunned. I had no answers. I still don't have any.

I remember the week following Jouke's death. I slept on the floor in their bedroom as I wanted to be near them and because I just couldn't sleep in our bed. One night Anja, then only 2, asks me to bring her a bucket. Thinking she is sick, I run. When I get back, she takes the bucket and tries to make herself be sick. After a while she hands the bucket back. "Are you ok? Do you feel sick?", I ask. "I just want to get this yucky out", she says "just want this yucky out."

How I wish I can do that for them. How I wish that I could take the yucky out and make it all better.

Problem is, death is the one un-fixable in life.

Timing

When Jouke first died I was completely overwhelmed with questions of "Why?". A million different questions ran through my mind, but by far the question I asked most was "why now?". He was only 32, I was only 27 and our kids were (are) still only babies.

Why?

Its a question that will drive you mad. There is no answer, there is no knowing.

It has now nearly been a year. 12 months, 365 days. A life time ago and yet only yesterday. Our grief is still raw, he tears are still close and we are still learning exactly how to do this without the one person that kept it all together. That said, I feel as though we have learned a little. Some growth has taken place and while I still really HATE this situation, there are times when there are moments of acceptance.

One of the things that I am coming to see is God's powerful hand and events leading up to his death. Things that happened that meant we were able to say goodbye and have no feelings of regret. I thought I might outline some of those below.

* Jouke and I met and married very young. Were were young but we were given nearly a decade fulled with joy and adventures.

* We always wanted 4 children. Two within 2 years then a 4 year gap and then 2 again. It didn't exactly work out that way. Alani joined our family about 3 years too soon (on our timetable) and because we had 3 children in 3 years time, we felt our family was complete.

Now I see that God knew what an immense blessing that little girl would be to us and what a huge role she is playing in my healing. He also kindly took away the feeling that we 'should have'. Not our timing, but His perfect hand for the good of his people.

* When Anja was 7 months old we spend about a month living with a friend who had lost his wife in a horrible car accident. We needed a place to stay and he needed the company. It worked out well. Now I see the lessons I learned about grief, widowhood, loneliness and pain. Never before had I ever confronted any of these emotions, but because of the time spend with Ian I was able to recognize them in me. They are horrible, but they are not completely unknown. I am ever thankful to our friend who not only taught us much, but who continues to be a wonderful supportive friend.

* Jouke worked a flexi-week. 4 days on and 3 days off. Because of this we often went on weekend breaks and very rarely used his annual leave. At one point he had so many weeks saved that his boss told him to take two weeks off, or else.

So this time last year we went on a 10 day camping holiday. It was fun and the time we spend as a family, and with some wonderful friends, will forever be treasured memories. When we returned we used the last few days of his leave to renovate the laundry and lay some new flooring. The night of the 3rd of March we finished. The last shelf was up and we headed to bed. That is my last memory of Jouke.

Now I see that those weeks were a gift. Precious, precious time together. Wonderful memories. And I now live in a house that Jouke had made practical and livable. His work is everywhere I look, a memory in every corner of this house.

* The Sunday night before his accident, Jouke suddenly dropped his paintbrush and headed for the computer. Confused, he told me that something was wrong with his family and he needed to speak to them. He was worried, something felt wrong. Via Skype he spoke to his parents, his siblings and some friends. By the time he was finished he felt silly, because everybody was well. Now I see that he was given an opportunity to say goodbye. One last chance to tell them he loved them.

There are many more such things that happened in the months and weeks leading up to his death. People we met, that have been amazing support for me through this past year; financial decisions we made that have helped us survive; buying our house and managing to get in front to help cushion the blow for me later and being part of a church that takes their call to support the widow and the fatherless very seriously.

For all these things I am thankful. Not my timing, but God's timing.

I ♥ U

The strangest thing happened to me today.

I spend a wonderful day in Sydney with a friend while my kids were being cared for by another of my dear friends. Novelty. Spending the day without kids. Watching a show. Catching up.

All day, though, I was dreading the drive home. Alone, just as the sun was setting. As I mentioned in earlier posts, I'm not so confident with driving.

I set of for home nervously at first, but soon found myself relaxing and rather enjoying the time in my own thoughts. The music was turned right up and I was one of those people singing to themselves in the car, looking like an idiot.

About halfway home I noticed heavy rain clouds and they made nervous.

I don't do storms.

I don't like wind.

Rain freaks me out.

I never have and probably never will. Jouke loved rain and storms.

I DON'T!

After another 10 minutes driving I started to realise that I was about to drive right into the middle of that storm and then I began to really panic. I called a friend at home who tells me that the storm had just pasted through and that it dropped a fair amount of hail and she thought it best that I find cover.

Now I am praying aloud. Shaking with fear, I pull over just as the wind begins to rock the car and minutes later the hail and rain comes. I wait it out. The lightning strikes as the thunder sounds and the sky turns orange. If I wasn't so scared it would have been beautiful.

As the wind and rain ease I hit the road again. Its still raining but the storm is passing and ahead I can see clear sky as the sun sets.

And then I see it. In the clouds. As if written by hand or some sky-writing plane:

I ♥ U

For 10 minutes it stays in the sky, right in front of me. (I know, it sounds nuts. If I had a camera I would have taken a photo.) Now, I'm not one to look for signs, but this was undeniable. It was real. I like to think that it was a message. From Jouke? From Jesus? Both? Either way - WOW!!!!!!

When I get home and get out of the car I look back to where I had come from. Black. The sky is black and angry looking. In front of me though, the sky is clearing and in then middle are those words.

I ♥ U

Maybe its a metaphor, a synonym, a parallel for this road I'm walking. Maybe God is showing me where I've been and what is in front of me. I ache everyday to know if Jouke still loves me. To know that I am still worthy of love. God answered that prayer tonight. He is carrying me through this storm and He is loving me even when I feel rather unlovable.

How I love seeing God's majesty displayed!!

Changed

Anger.

I think that is where I am right now. I thought that given that I now know how fleeting this life can be that I would be willing to forgive more, love more, excuse more. Instead, its the opposite.

I have my hackles up. All. the. time.

I feel like I have to stand up for my self. Fight for my kids. Explain myself. Defend, defend, defend!

Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't remember being this way 'before'. Sure, I got mad, had fights, but I never let things fester before. Didn't mind backing down.

Why do I feel so defensive? Why can't I let things go?

Grief is changing me.

Loosing Jouke has changed me.

I am praying that this is a stage, part of the process. I am praying the those I love and those I hurt will be patient with me. I am praying that instead of being hardened by this loss, I will be softened, humbled and be made useful.

Moving on

Tomorrow is the start of another year. 2010. A new decade really.

I have been wondering what this year will hold. I have many things that I would like to do, but I'm not planning really, plans are hopeless anyway. We know life can change in a moment. Its more things I wouldn't mind getting around to should I find the time.

What I most want, however, I can't have. I can't plan.

I want this grief to stop. I want to feel better and be better company. That said, I think this year in some ways is going to be harder than the last. Sure, I have learned or adapted to living this life. I now know that I am capable of far more than I ever gave myself credit for. I am far more aware of God's grace and his powerful hand carrying me through.

What is flooring me though is this need/expectation that I should move on. That given that the "firsts" are nearly over that I will wake one morning and feel better.

I don't. I don't feel any better. I feel more lonely, more scared and I ache to have Jouke back. I long to know again what it feels like to fall asleep in his arms or to hear his laugh. I long for the feeling that everything is right in my world and it kills me that I may never again. I long for my kids to have 2 parents.

So, yes I want to "move on", and shake some of this grief, but I don't want to loose him again. I don't want to cut him from my life and I don't want another in his place.

I want Jouke.

That's what I want most.

Wednesday

It was a Wednesday 8 years ago when we started our married life together. A Wednesday because he wouldn't make a decision and to get a reaction I choose that day. He didn't mind. Wednesday it was.

It was a warm day.

Busy.

I remember the people and the flowers and the hair. A hive of activity, until the moment that I saw him waiting at the end of the aisle. It all stopped. There he was, nervous, but calmly waiting. Stunningly handsome. I don't remember if we spoke to each other during the ceremony, only that he helped me hold the flowers that were getting heavy. I remember how he smelled that day. I remember how, unlike usual, his face was shaved smooth.

We were so young. He was just 25 and I not yet 21.

Babies. We were so sure we had found the perfect life partner. I still believe the same.

Wednesday 19 December 2001: Two becomes one.

Wednesday 4 March 2009: I am left ripped in half.

Weird.

I hate Wednesday.

Riding Away

I have listed Jouke's bike on eBay.

If all goes well buy Sunday night is should be sold. Its tearing me up inside. This beat up, 13 year old, beast is one of Jouke's most treasured possessions. He loved it. Much time and money was spend tinkering and looking at this machine. Riding it through the state forest or just around the block brought him immense joy. The smile on his wind blown face told me that this was one of the things that made him feel alive.

But it has to go. The first real thing that I am letting go of. I feel so guilty. I'm doing it for the money.

I remember about 3 years back when I was frantically de-cluttering, I made the fatal error of giving some of his things away without his consent. They were carved wooden animals that we had bought on a trip to South Africa, after we both promised to not spend any money. On returning to the car we sheepishly admitted to each other that we both couldn't say no and had both ended up buying the beautiful, but ultimately, useless objects out of pity for the sellers.

So when I decided to give them away, I honestly didn't think that it would be an issue. I was wrong. He was so mad and I still remember him say something about 'don't every give away my stuff'. Afterward we laughed about it but at the time, my usually mild mannered husband, was really upset.

So you see my problem. I can still see his smile behind his helmet, can still smell the petrol fumes on his clothes, can still hear the roar of the engine. And I can still she how mad he was about those silly statues.

Then to add insult to injury, people have been emailing with ridiculous offers. Some up to a third less than the starting bid. How rude! Had they known the gravity of this sale and the importance of this bike, they would not dare, they wouldn't even suggest it.

Letting go. Its just stuff. Just metal and rubber and plastic. It feels like I am loosing him again.

Spiralling

Today I am falling, tumbling, spiraling toward that really dark, dark grief place. Grief is constant, always there, part of who I am. I don't like it, yet is seems like my one tangible link to the loss of a great man. Take it away and you remove some of me, some of our love. Knowing and marrying Jouke changed me and now loosing him has changed me again.

But that really dark grief I hate. The place where I struggle to function. I can do little more than take care of my children's basic needs. They know it and become needy and demanding in an attempt to bring me back. I see it, I know what is going on. I can't change it.

In that place I relive it all. I feel what I try so hard to run away from. I ache and cry and feel trapped in my own skin. My greatest enemy is my own thoughts and I struggle to turn them off or even down. The lump in the back of my throat that I constantly have to swallow past, threatens to, at any moment, reduce me to a ball of tears.

Not today, I pray. But the train is approaching with phenomenal speed. It cannot be stopped.

Decisions

During our whole marriage Jouke and I made nearly every decision together. Even small things like going out to friends for dinner was usually something that I would run past him before giving the final answer. He was a very easy going guy and as a rule was relatively unfussed about most things, but I still wanted to respect him and give him a say.

So, that leaves me at a very strange place. Every decision is now mine and I have nobody to use as a sounding board or co-decider. Now small decisions have become significant. Things like whether to send a mildly ill child on a play-date or which pair of shoes to buy or which way is faster home. All these things drive me nuts. There are no "right" answers only better ones for right now. That leaves a lot of room for self-doubt.

What about making bigger, more important decisions? Schools, money, housing, work, the list goes on. I am lost and confused and sadly rather easily led by anyone sounding like they know more than me. At the moment I am looking at upgrading the family car. We need more room to allow other people to better help me out with care for the children. But which one?? I have looked at everything on the market and cannot decide. Which one is most reliable, affordable and safest? Everyone I ask has got a different opinion.

The issue really though is not the decision itself, but that I am deciding all on my own. I hate it. I want to be able to talk to Jouke about the small stuff and sweat together about the big stuff. I don't want to have to carry this burden alone. I didn't sign up for this.

I miss him everyday, but never more than when I need an arm around me telling me that everything will be OK.

Proud

My sister got married 3 weeks ago. The wedding was to be held 1200km away and given that I have 3 kids driving the distance was the only option. I was terrified. Weeks I planned and worried and layed awake. I don't like driving and have never driven more than 200km on my own before. That was Jouke's job. He liked it and was good at it. That is just the way it worked.
I didn't know how the kids would handle the trip and how I was going to stay focused on the road and make sure they were OK.

I was terrified of the wedding, too. Terrified of taking that one photo that I didn't want to take. Terrified of seeing the start of a marriage when mine has just ended. Of remembering the days leading up to my own wedding. Terrified of the first time all the family would be together since the funeral. Turns out I had reason to be scared as it was a really hard day. I will tell more about that later.

Other things scared me too. Packing the car, planning the route, staying in motels, the list goes on.

But what scared me most by far was the nearly 24 hours that I had to stare at the road. It is the time when the images of Jouke's passing fill the lens of my minds eye and I have to fight hard just to see through them, to see the road. I am left defenseless and unable to turn them off or to turn the sound down. Scenes I would rather forget (like the police at my house) play slowly, clearly and loudly and at times I cannot see the road.

A dear friend prayed specifically for God to take these way. He answered. Mostly I was focused and my mind relatively quiet. Traveling was hard work. The entire trip was hard work. But God was faithful. He kept us safe, he kept me sane. He showed me his strength in my weakness and taught me that I am capable of far more than I imagined.

I am proud of me and the kids. Proud that even when it is hard, when we felt like quitting we pushed on. I hope that Jouke would be too.

He knows

About a week after Jouke passed my little man asked that I pray with him for Jesus to come and live in his heart. WOW! what a moment. At 4 he had made a personal relationship with Jesus. Jouke wanted so badly for his kids to know Jesus and he would be so delighted to know that Tiaan gave his life.

That said, I have been wondering how real a little boys' conversion could be. Does he understand? These things have been plaguing me, until this weekend.

We were driving to some friends' house for dinner and a some country song, about the war, was playing on the radio. Something in the song, about men giving their lives for others, got Tiaan's attention.
He said: "That's like Jesus".
"How?" I asked.
"You know how He had to die on the cross for our sins so that we can live forever, like that".

WOW!

And then he continues, "Its like how Pappa had to die once and now he can live forever, with Jesus."

Big WOW!

What a comfort to know that Tiaan understands. He gets the magnitude of God's grace and he understands that life for believers does not end, rather we are blessed with eternity, in heaven, with God.

Friends

Through all this I have learned who my true friends are. They are the ones that can look at me, broken and shattered and love me anyway. They are the ones that let me feel this, they don't try to take it away from me, they know they can't, but they feel it with me. They loved Jouke and miss him, too. They talk about him. They cry with me.

I heard this song a few weeks ago and it speaks of just what I am writing about now.



Thanks for those who are willing to share the dark. I love you!

Missing

Today I miss Jouke. Its not just that I am grieving for him, I miss him here. I desperately want him home, want to see his half-smile, to hear his laugh.

There are moments when I think that I can do this, play this game. I am strong, I tell myself. God has a bigger dream for me.
But then the reality of death, of permanance, of forever, creeps in and a wave of understanding hits me so hard I feel myself being swept of my feet.

How? Why?

I wonder about crazy things like what actually happened in Mudgee. Dread that Jouke was alone when he died. Hate that I didn't get to say goodbye.
It all feels so detached. I wasn't there, I didn't see, yet I am living it and it all doesn't make sense.

I am tired of this. Tired of feeling this low and pretending this hard that I am coping. Tired of life that keeps on keeping on. I don't want to move on.
Don't you see that my husband is dead and that EVERYTHING is different?
I don't care about petty things, that your coffee is cold and your shoe broken, don't you know that my Jouke is gone? Don't you see that those things don't matter?

I try to feel different, try to say busy. The problem is that were I go, there I am and Jouke is not. I can't shake this, can't run from it and can't get around it.

Love

I heard the kids talking about love this morning.

"What is love?" I asked.
"When people hug", said Tiaan.
Anja replied: "Pappa. Pappa and Jesus".

They know more than I give them credit for.

Conversation

One of Jouke's best mates is around this afternoon helping me with some things around the yard. Turns out some things I just can' t do, no matter how hard I try. Starting the whipper-snipper is one of them. I pulled until my arm ached but no luck. I am so grateful for his help.

While he was out there I ran a cup of tea out to him. Suddenly I missed Jouke so. I miss the noises in the shed and the sounds of him around the yard. I miss the smell of his clothes as he comes home from a bike ride - fuel and dirt and sweat. I miss his tools around the place and the many things he took care of that I simply do not know how to do.

Mostly I miss conversation with him. I'm a talker, he a listener. I miss not having anyone to have meaningless conversation with about all the little things that matter.

At work for his Master

Jouke was a great worker. He wasn't lazy, he was willing and wanted to please. More than that he was capable and talented. There was little he put his hands to that he didn't do well.
It is that which I love about him that made him a wonderful employee. It was the same that made him a wonderful husband and father. Things got done, things got done well and because he was physically strong he could do things easily that others struggled with. I was told many stories about his physical strength and great work ethic in the days following his death. In a way it makes his death at work a bigger tragedy.
The day before he had to leave to go to Mudgee he told me many times that he didn't want to go, he also told a friend. But because of his ethic, his standards, he wouldn't listen to my pleas to not go and just pretend to be sick. For once I wished he did listen.

One of his good mates send me this only a few days after the accident:

There are two ways in which a workman regards his work: as his own, or as his Master’s. If it is his own, then to leave it in his prime is a catastrophe, if not a cruel and unfathomable wrong.

But if it is his master’s, one looks not backwards, but before, putting down the well-worn tools without a sigh and expecting elsewhere better work to do.”
Henry Drummond. 1851 – 1897

Jouke belonged to his Master. Everyday, in all he did, his attitude and humility spoke of this. His ministry was not one of words but action. He wondered everyday if he was doing enough to let people know about Jesus, to tell them the good news. I believe so.

And now that he is no longer here to tell, God is still being glorified. There was well over 300 people at his funeral where God's truth was boldly shared. The members of our church have worked tirelessly to make sure that we are cared for and this is speaking volumes of God's love in action. People have told me that they have seriously reevaluated their lives, some even quitting time consuming jobs so they can spend more time with their families.

His work for his master is continuing. What a wonderful legacy!

6 months

That long already? I know its not technically the 4th but Wednesday is just a tough day. Couple that with father's day on Sunday and it is proving to be a really hard week. I hate it. I hate that anniversaries matters. Hate that I have survived for 6 months without him here.

So how I am really doing? Everybody wants to know. Not everybody can handle knowing the truth. I often answer "Doing as best as we can, thanks". Another woman on a similar path as me wrote in her blog:

I suspect that being near me is like looking into the sun. It hurts. You can't look directly at it for too long. Watching my pain must be painful for others. I don't envy them. It is hard for everyone, and those who are near me are especially brave.

So how are we really doing?

* Anja is struggling hugely. She has regressed in many areas of her development. She is back in nappies, she needs help dressing & eating and has become quiet and withdrawn. She hasn't got the language abilities to put into words her pain or even her memories. She is coping as best as she can, but I worry about her.

* Tiaan is such a beautiful boy. He was very close to Jouke and is having trouble accepting that this is real. He is asking lots of hard questions. I hate that his little head is worrying about such big things. He asked me the other day if I had got a chance to say goodbye to pappa. He is worrying about me. Worrying that I didn't get to say goodbye. My heart breaks for him.

* Alani has lived a 3rd of her live without a daddy. A 3rd! That makes me cry.

Two mornings ago she climbed out of bed and ran around the house calling "Pappa! Pappa!" How is that? She was only 12 months old the last time he was home, but she knows he is missing. It just shows you that we are made with the need to have a father figure in our lives.

* I am broken on the inside. I am changed. Hardened. I have built a wall around me, not really letting people close, not really letting anything out. I function because I have to. I try not to think about it. Really though, I am sad. Just so sad. And sick of being sad.

I am struggling hugely with knowing who I am without him. What to cook for dinner, what type of shampoo to buy, what to wear. All the thousand decisions we make everyday I made with him in mind. I don't even know what I like without him. I am trying to work it out.

So yeah, this is tough. I wouldn't wish this on anybody. But, I am coming to understand God's grace in a way that I never have. I am starting to see that life is not about what I want but more about how God is shaping me for his glory. I am seeing God's love practically through his people everyday. I am anxiously waiting for heaven - it is so real!

And a hope is growing in my heart, that through all this we will come out the other side. God is not done with us yet. He wouldn't leave me like this.

5pm comes everyday.

Today we had a good day. The sun was out and it was rather lovely outside. The kids played in the sand and on the swings whilst I hung washing on the line. We played on the floor and read some books and for the most part everything felt normal.

Suddenly my mood changed. It wasn't conscience, I didn't want it too, but I knew without looking at the clock that it must be nearly 5 o'clock. 4:51pm. My body knew. The normality of the day fooled me into thinking that in about 10 minutes he would be home.

For a moment I forgot. How? How do you forget something so profound? Why is it that I just cannot fully wrap my head around death? I just don't understand.

Single Mum

I hate that term. I hate being called single and couple that with mum, which by definition implies there should be a dad, it leaves me feeling sick in the stomach. Love it or loath it though, that is what I am. I hate it.

Grieve aside this parenting 3 babies all on my own is insane. Even when we have no major emotional issues to deal with the days are long and hard. Take today as an example.

I was woken at 6:30am (after only falling asleep a mere 5.5 hours before) and while I tried to ignore the calls for breakfast, by 7:15am I was standing in the kitchen with 3 breakfast bowls lined up. Following breakfast we spend a quiet morning at home with me only getting out of my PJ's at about 10:30am. Let me however define 'quiet': cleaned up kitchen, dressed kids, changed 2 smelly nappies, broke up 3 fights, put a load of laundry on, checked emails, payed some bills and made 3 coffees. By 11 we were all dressed and I spend about an hour with the kids doing some pre-kindy workbooks and building puzzles.
Following lunch we watched a little TV and then I found it...head lice!! Anja with the worlds curliest hair had some crawly things on her head and they were not welcome. So I spend 2 hours carefully removing any hints of insects before setting of to town to buy a few groceries and of course head lice lotion (For the record, this is surely one of the worlds most degrading and embarrassing moments).
Once home I lathered the kids' hair, combed and searched, stripped bedding and remade beds. Dinner was ordinary, but the kids are in bed with full tummies.

I am done, tired and ready for bed. But I still have laundry to fold, school bags to pack and a truck load to toys to put away.

I will get to that, I will, really. Just as soon as I have this cup of tea.

Reality hits

This grieving thing is strange. In the weeks following the accident I often thought that instead of feeling all the emotions one would imagine feeling when your husband dies, I was feeling nothing. No, not nothing, but not anything like I imagined one would. The funeral was difficult, but in the hours that followed I felt weirdly relieved. Days would pass without any tears and while I constantly thought about Jouke and my loss I was able to completely distance myself from the reality, the gravity of the truth.

There were moments that things got rough. 5pm on a Wednesday still is one of the most difficult hours of the week - the day and time of the accident. Going to bed is difficult. I remember about 4 days after the accident having a panic attack because I couldn't figure out how to get into bed, alone. Seeing his work ute (isn't still driving around town) or any electricians working makes me anxious.

The last 3 weeks however, all the emotions I imagined one would feel in a situation like this has come to the surface. Instead of coming at specific, predictable times they now hang around constantly. I am sad all the time. I am feeling the loss constantly. I started crying. Today I was on my way to work and had trouble stopping. Tears are streaming down my face as I order a coffee (an attempt to calm myself) and I am sure the girl behind the counter was very uncomfortable.

Talking to others who know grief this seems to be normal. Shock has worn off, reality has set in. I expected it, but I am completely taken by surprise. I am trying hard not to fight it. Trying to just feel. Hoping that by facing all this head on, that I might come through quicker. I don't expect that I will ever "get over" this. I am changed forever. I'm just hoping for a better week.

Blog title

I was thinking about changing my blog name tonight. As you may have noticed I have changed everything else as I am feeling the need to make things different, to somehow signal this gigantic change that has happened in our lives.

But no, I'm not going to. Because mamma made it: through today, this minute, this week, the last 5 months. I am surviving. I am figuring out a way to make it through. Mamma made it. Slowly. Carefullly. Somehow I will make it through. Not because I am strong, but because Christ is strong. He is carrying me. And because of my babies.

Our days

It is nearly 6 months since we last saw Jouke. Its hard to believe. It only feels like yesterday, but then it also feels like a lifetime ago.
So much has changed. I have moved furniture around in the house and added some new pieces. My bed was the first to be moved. I turned it to face the other wall and added new bedding. It is still not easy to go to bed alone, but at least now it feels a little different, a little more possible. I moved the blue lounge out of the front room. It holds too many memories and at least now we can use that room again.

Our days are very different too. In order to cope we are keeping busy. Staying home all day is just too hard so I make sure that we go somewhere at least once a day. Our days are filled with people and while it can be exhausting I really don't know how else to cope right now.

I suppose though the biggest change is in our faces. We smile less. I try, for the kids' sake, but its just too hard some days. Our eyes are different too. My own eyes I hardly recognise and those of my children scare me sometimes.

Anja was very sad yesterday. When I asked her what was wrong she said that she missed me. "I miss you, I miss you and pappa." It breaks my heart. No kid should have to deal with that. I pray that in months to come I will be able to be more available to my children. Pray with me.

Seeing Australia

When Jouke and I first got married we had a dream to travel around Australia on a motorbike. He wanted a BMW enduro bike and I was only happy if the bike had arm rests and a radio.
We talked about our plans often - the places we wanted to see, the things we had to do.
Babies delayed our plans some.
No motorbikes we knew of could fit a capsule. When we fell pregnant with Alani, our 3rd baby in 3.5 years, I was 26. He quickly reminded me that by the time I was 47 she would be 20 and then we would go and see this country with the wind in our grey/ailing hair.
I am sad that will never come to be.

Reading back through my blog tonight I was a little shocked to see that one of the last posts prior to Jouke's accident was with my favourite photo of us. Just a few months ago all was normal and I was happy. Completely content. I was married to a wonderful man and all was going to right.

It only took a moment and all changed. I haven't told his story yet, its painful to put it in words, but that Wednesday night when the police knocked on my door will be edged into my memory forever. Not so much what they said, I don't even remember what they looked like, but that feeling of horror. I knew even before they said a word and I begged them to leave, begged them not to say a word. Jouke was an electrician and while working out of town he accidentally touched a live wire. No body saw exactly what happened, but most likely it was all over in an instant.

I wish there was words to explain to you the sort of man he was. Right now it is difficult for me to remember him fully - the pain is too raw. But I do know that he was wonderful. He had his flaws, things that drove me mad, but I loved him completely and I know he loved me. Mostly I remember his presence. Quiet, unintruding, yet filling the room. He was strong and sure and I felt so safe with him around. He loved to play. He played with the kids and with me and always looked for the fun in any situation. Those are the things we are missing most - safety and joy - those he brought to our lives everyday.

The ache, the gaint space, he has left in our lives is difficult to live with. Somedays breathing is hard. Looking in my kids' eyes and seeing their pain and answering their questions - hard, somedays hardly bearable. I know we will make it through, but I honestly do not know how.

Grief and Hope

There are no words. Just emptiness, sadness and confusion. Grief is real and it is cruel. You think that you have found a way to cope and before you know it you are overwhelmed again. I hope to one day share some of the glimpses of beauty in all this darkness, but right now I don't know how.

All I can say is that God is good. He has carried us thus far and will continue to do so. I don't understand, but I have hope, eternal, strong assuring hope that this is not the end. Jouke is with his Lord and maker, we are carried daily in His hands and one day in God timing and through his grace we will be together again.

This missing is hard.

A profound loss

This week, for reasons that I cannot know, Jesus took Jouke to be with Him. My husband, partner, lover and friend - the father to my beautiful children. I do not know why or how and I will probably never know. All I know is he is with Jesus in a better place and we will forever miss him. I love him so.

Post Christmas update

Hi to all who have been patiently waiting for an update. Sorry things around here have been somewhat crazy and finding time to sit down and write has been difficult. If you are checking in for some sewing you will be sadly disappointed as I have not sat down to sew anything in a good long time. This is not a fact that pleases me, but then sometimes you just have to know your limits.

I thought though that I will give you a quick update of what has been happening around here:

* Jouke and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary this week. It has been 7 great years and we look forward to many more.

* Tiaan is officially enrolled at the Christian school for pre-kindy. I tossed and turned about homeschooling for a while but in the end realised that it was not something that would be possible for our family. So two days a week he will be going to preschool and the year after he will be a big boy in kindy.

* Last weekend we had 3 inches of rain in a night. It was great, but our back room got a little soggy. We had to pull the, already tattered, carpet up. The floating floor is ordered, now it is just a matter of making sure the water stays out next time.

* Alani has started crawling. She is not on all fours but is doing it commando style. Even so, she has become rather good at getting around and a little expert at opening cupboard doors and unpacking the contents.

* I have started weaning Baby Girl. She was born weighing in at the 90th percentile and has slipped down to the 10th. While she is eating well I just don't think I have enough milk to give her what she needs. I am a little sad that this part is almost over, but if this is what she needs to thrive than so be it. Plus if she will be a happier girl than even better.

That is about what we are up to. I wish everybody a wonderful Christmas. May you come the know the greatest Gift of all - Jesus.

One of those days

Today has been one of those days. I have fought harder than I was ready for, I cried a little, I was scared, felt sad and is now exhausted.

It started when Jouke and I went to town to do some Christmas shopping. We are not buying big this year and so we only had 3 gifts to buy. Sounds easy, but we left town with only 2 bought and feeling less than friendly toward each other.

Then my dear little baby got a piece of bread stuck in her throat and after a few terrifying moments we decided it best to get her to emergency. She was breathing but the food was stuck and causing her much pain. Thankfully she is now OK, but for a very sore throat. It was just so scary and I am ashamed to say that I froze unsure of what to do. God was good in that Jouke was home and was able to help her. I still feel sick at the thought at what could have been.

The afternoon got better but because Jouke is work evening shifts this week the kids are testing me at bed time. I fought (I know, strong language but this is how it felt) for over 2 hours to get them settled. I got angry and frustrated and I yelled a little too loudly and I am sure they fell asleep thinking that Mamma has lost it tonight. They are all finally asleep.

And now, I am boiling the kettle. I have popped the left overs in the fridge and when my cuppa is made will have a little quite sit down. The kitchen can wait until morning, tonight I am tired.

How has your day been?

I am in love

Have a look at what I found today. My oh my, isn't this just beautiful!!! I found this Etsy shop today and I am very worried that I will loose all my self control and buy just about everything on offer. Belle & Boo also has got at beautiful blog that is well worth a visit.

Once my girls are a little older I want to move them into the same room. I have plans of white furniture with splashes of pink and green and these prints above would complete my dream. Right now buying these would not fit in the budget (I couldn't even squeeze it in or fudge the numbers) but these images make me happy!