Johnny

Three days before Jack's birthday, I learned that my cousin Johnny died tragically at the young age of 42.

I came out of an appointment to see that I had three missed calls from my dad, and a text message from my brother-in-law that said it all.  "What happened?  Cousin Johnny?"

I knew.

My parents weren't answering the phone, and I called John to ask what was going on - he thought I already knew.  I felt sucker-punched.

I sat in my car and cried my eyes out for 45 minutes.  I called my Aunt Kathy and listened to her sob on the phone and said the only thing you can say - I am so, so sorry.  I wondered how it's possible for our family to go through so much and all at one time.

This felt like too much.  We cannot do this.  This cannot be happening.  Please, please, this cannot be happening.  We cannot handle this.

But we are - there is no other choice.

Six months ago, I sat next to my cousin Johnny at our cousin J.J's funeral.  We were both uncomfortable.  We chatted about how we'd want to have things done at our funerals.  We said things like please, help them find the best picture of me you've ever seen.  Please, don't let me be in the room.  No casket, no body.  Just beautiful flowers, a beautiful picture, music we loved.

And today, six months later, I will attend Johnny's service, and there will surely be beautiful flowers, a beautiful picture, and music he loved.  There will be ashes.  We didn't talk about ashes, so I don't know his thoughts on that, but I'm sure my Aunt Kathy did.

Today is such a sad, heart-breaking day.  My Aunt Kathy and Uncle Jack have lost their only son.  My cousin Shelly has lost her brother and her best friend.  And then there's all of us.  We all have a Johnny-shaped hole in our hearts.

{Shelly's husband, Ron, and my cousin Johnny - Summer 2007}

Johnny was a gentle soul.  He loved his dogs, he loved to read, he loved to camp - to sleep under the stars.  Maybe he was lonely or maybe he just liked the calm and quiet.  He certainly had inner demons like the rest of us, but he was oh so loved. And just like that, he's gone.

Johnny - I am so sad that you are gone.  I hope that you have found peace.  Maybe you found Grandpa and Ben.  I hope so.  I love you and I'll remember you always.  And to my Aunt Kathy, Uncle Jack, and Shelly - I love you all, and I hope that the memories you have of Johnny will bring you peace and comfort in the days and months ahead.

Our New Year

Our new year had a sad start.  My 47 year-old cousin, JJ, passed away on New Year's Day.  After battling cancer, surviving surgeries, and trying to find his way in a "new normal," he's no longer in pain or suffering from his illness.  But my poor Uncle John...it is for him that my heart is breaking.  Our family has lost another member, someone we grew up around, spent holidays with at my Grandpa's, and visited during our family reunions, but my Uncle John has lost his firstborn, his eldest son.

No one should ever have to say goodbye to their own children.  To have to watch them suffer and to be powerless to stop whatever comes their way.  It is so very sad.

I traveled to Cleveland this past weekend with my mom and dad and my sister and nephew.  We spent time with family and went to JJ's funeral services.  We supported my uncle, Aunt Lolly, and JJ's siblings as best we could.

But it's not enough.

When something like this happens, it's never enough.

JJ was loved and will be remembered.

And while my Uncle John will never be the same, he will be okay.  We are here for you, Uncle John.  We love you - and we are so very sorry that you've had to go through this last year.  We hope for nothing but peace and happiness for you in this new year.

{Uncle Bob, Uncle John, my mom, and Aunt Kathy - all the siblings together}

Our Puppy Dogs

Our house feels unbearably quiet and empty.

And yes, I know we have a five year old and a two year old, so that seems impossible, but it's true.

I mentioned that Saturday was a sad day - that's because it was Saturday when Brad drove Gracie and Belle to their new home and handed them over to their new family, a very nice man named Joe that we've come to know over the last several weeks.

Putting our puppies up for adoption was a very long and painful decision, but it finally came to the point where we knew it was the right thing to do.  And not only for us, but for Gracie and Belle as well.  Before we had Jack and Hannah, we had Gracie and Belle, and we doted on them like they were our babies.

Truth be told, it is harder to dote on dogs when two little kids become involved.  You have less time, energy, patience, and money - and their lives changed.  They weren't by any means miserable or mistreated, so please don't misunderstand me.  They just didn't get the same level of attention that they were used to getting before Baby Jack came home from the hospital that very first day.

And while they haven't always been in a crate during the day, once we moved into our new house and I just couldn't put toys away every day before work, we had to crate the dogs.  Otherwise, they would chew on tiny, toy pieces.  They were jealous, and this was how they showed it.

But they were oh-so-good to us.  To our babies.  To our family...  Very loyal, very loving.  Never aggressive.

The year that Jack turned two, he had a very rough winter.  He started wheezing, and we ended up having to visit an allergist and putting him on an inhaler and allergy meds that he's taken every day since before he turned three.  He just recently turned five.  When we had him tested for allergies, dogs did come up slightly, but he was so young and they couldn't be sure.  Dogs and horses.  And seasonal allergies.  The girls didn't seem to be an issue for Jack, and so we let it go.  We believed it was the brutally cold temperatures that he had to play in during his daycare hours.

But what the allergy tests did do, was they heightened my awareness to Jack's reactions to certain things.  For example, I began to notice that when he played on Gracie and Belle's beds, that he would get red and blotchy.  Or if he sat in his bean bag chair that Belle also slept on at night after Jack was in bed, Jack would get little bumps on his arms or face.  He would sneeze a lot in the morning or after playing with the girlfriends, and we started to worry.  And over the course of a few years, Jack's reactions to the girls seemed to be getting worse.

Jack had certainly overheard Brad and I talking about the puppies and his allergies over the years, but I never really noticed exactly how much he thought about it.  One day, I was driving in the car with Jack and Hannah, and I was telling them about how much I love them, and how lucky I am to have two happy, healthy children, when Jack announced that he wasn't healthy.  When I asked him what he meant, he mentioned his allergies and the puppy dogs.  And my heart sank.

We love Jack and Hannah more than anything else in this world, and we would do anything to protect them from danger or harm of any kind.  I just never thought that might involve putting our puppy dogs up for adoption.  A few weeks ago, we made the decision to post the puppies on a Shih Tzu rescue site.  Against the suggestion of the site to list the animals separately, I posted Gracie and Belle as a packaged deal and within hours we had several interested parties.  I wanted to back out.  I didn't.

We weeded through a couple of interested people right away, but that very first night, a man emailed me and asked for as much information as I could give him about our puppies.  We began an email strand that is still going on to this day.  He'd had two Shih Tzus of his own up until about a year ago when he went through a divorce and his ex-wife got custody of their dogs.  He's been looking for a year for a pair of pups to love and take care of, and then he found ours.

Over a couple of weeks he asked a million and one questions about our dogs, and we were happy to answer every last one.  We believed that only someone with the greatest heart would know what questions to ask and he knew.  He's retired and doesn't want anything to do with our crate.  Brad went to meet him, and we knew that day that we'd found the person who was supposed to take care of Gracie and Belle from here on out.  We made the arrangements and decided that in order to make it easier on the kids, Brad would drop off the puppies and all of their belongings, and I would stay home with the kids.

Saying goodbye was not easy.  In fact, it was quite brutal.  Mostly because the kids seemed somewhat oblivious and unattached, but Brad and I were a wreck and trying at the same time to not push those feelings off on the kids.  We took some family pictures and gave them lots of cuddles (and half a pound of roast beef, each), and then they were gone.

Lucky for me, I hadn't showered yet, so I was able to cry my eyes out in the shower without the kids seeing.  But then I had to pull myself together and go on with our day.  I took them to their new school, Hannah napped, and then we went to the store and to Chik-Fil-A for dinner.  I randomly teared up all day long, embarrassing myself at every stop we made, but I couldn't help it.  I was a mess.

Their presence is missed.  I didn't realize all the tiny things I would miss every day, but I do.

On Saturday, I tried to take a nap, but I couldn't sleep.  Gracie and Belle always napped next to me, and even if they weren't on the bed, I could hear them sigh or snore or stretch and it was comforting.  And now they aren't here.

No one barks when we pull into the garage.  When we come home, we aren't rushing to let them out of the crate.  The space in our office where the crate used to be?  It feels huge and empty.  It looks wrong. I'm going to have to do something with that space, and soon.

When I would go get Hannah up from her naps, Gracie would follow me and jump up against her crib. Now Hannah doesn't look out and say, "Greasy wake Hannah up."  She doesn't seem to notice our routine has changed, but I do.

When Hannah dropped some steak on the floor last night, no one lunged to get to it first.

These things make me sad.

Do Gracie and Belle know how much we love them?  Do they think we deserted them?  Are they happy?  Will they remember us and our babies?  Will we ever see them again?

My heart is broken.

I don't think I've been this sad since my grandpa passed away, and that was nine years ago.

Our kids?  They seem much better than we expected.

Sunday morning, Hannah (who by the way, became best friends with the puppies the week before their departure) looked around asked, "Where Gracie go?  Where Gracie and Cuddlebug?"  I told her that they were at their new home, and she seemed perfectly fine with that answer.

Only tonight Jack came up to me and said he missed the dogs.  I told him I do, too.

The only thing that helps?  Gracie and Belle are happy.  They are getting so many rubs and walks.  They have constant companionship and aren't competing for attention.  Joe is cooking them food and sharing popsicles for dessert.  The girlfriends are getting so much love.  We are so very thankful for our new friend, Joe.

And Jack seems to be sneezing less.

It is for the best.  I know this to be true.

But oh-my-goodness, it sucks.

Silent Sunday