One Year Ago - Part Two...

We were shocked beyond belief when Mama died. When 'they' came to take her away, we took Daddy back to his hospital room where we sat vigil for a little while as he slept. I can't even remember who stayed with him that night - but he wasn't alone; he was never alone.

The next day Daddy stayed in a realm of consciousness that we couldn't reach anymore. He would respond if spoken to but he wouldn't open his eyes...and he slept. New Year's Eve took him to a different level of living and dying... and we knew his time would be close. The doctors had told us that we would have weeks with him ... except he began his passage to be with Mother while grieving in the ER. Watching him withdraw into his own mind and existence, we all knew that the strength and will of our Dad died with our Mom.

In the evening on NYE - on year ago today - 56 hours after Mom died - Daddy called my Mother's name and drew his last breath. They were married for 50 years and 6 months.

It was over.

There's a Tear in My Wine!

Yesterday started on a high emotion, Rich and I stayed busy ALL DAY! When evening rolled around we walked the vast span across the driveway, to The Whitten's house next door. We took our positions around their kitchen island and downloaded our day over a few glasses of wine. Ok...let's just be honest here - I think it was 3 bottles!

We cried, talked and hugged through the anniversary of my parents deaths - the sadness of it all and the ironic twist of fate that occurred last December. At one point Leigh Ann says something like..."At least they are together", to which I said, "I don't give damn, they are still not here"!  Yes...I'm really working on that bitter part!

I look over at her and she's crying...hard. Me: "Why are you crying?" Through her 'I've had too much wine and not enough food' stupor..she said "I wish I had parents like yours". That was hands down the most sweetest thing I have heard!

At this point Leigh Ann's little eyes have swollen from crying and I start to laugh. It was just hysterical watching her put ice cubes on her eyes! I warned her that I would blog about it with pictures!

We laughed. I needed that! We all needed that!

After a few moments on this subject we moved on to something else.

That's just how we roll.

I tried to think of something whitty and funny to put in the blog post, but I honestly couldn't. The day ended just the way I needed it to end.

I love our Best Friends!

One Year Ago..

Last night was sleepless.

My mind replayed this day - a year ago ...a year ago this morning.

Again and again I relived the horror.

I left my Father's room and was led by a nurse through a back elevator to the ER. I was placed in a little family room. I waited. My aunt arrived, then my brother. We waited. Just like December 29, 2010,  I heard the doctor say "I'm sorry, we couldn't save her".... again and again. I hear myself tell him (again) "I'm sorry, you've made a mistake, we're with the Martha Blocker family"... then he again said the same words he spoke a year ago, "Yes, I know. I'm sorry....." He continued to talk...I couldn't hear him anymore...he just kept chattering as I looked at my brother, at my aunt, and the the horror hit. She was gone. Our Mother was gone. I turn to the doctor and tell him to 'just stop...stop talking...I can't hear you anymore.' He stops.. he quietly leaves us in that little room. It wasn't supposed to happen this way - Dad was going to die soon.... in less than a week we be orphans.

Throughout the night I relived the pain of making phone calls...of confirming to my brother and sister..of holding the kids as they arrived and grieved.... of watching my father's broken mind hit the level of comprehension as he holds her and begs God not to take her.

The 'what if's' plagued my thoughts. The scenes played all night like a movie.

This morning I feel tired...sad...empty...longing.

R&R and Christmas Eve....

It's the morning of Christmas Eve. My husband is rummaging around the kitchen to heat up a bagel. A few minutes ago we were standing in front of the fireplace, each with a bowl of cereal. I lite the Christmas tree and we shared a kiss.

Me: I'm so glad that you are home for Christmas

Him: Me too!

So....how's R&R going so far?

A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!

My husband got home on Saturday after 8 1/2 months in the Sand Box. He and 3 members of his team (there are only four in the team - the 4th Soldier took R&R earlier), flew into to Atlanta at 9am to find their flight home would be 12 hours later. Being that the flight itself would only be a 45 minute flight, they decided to rent a car and make the four hour drive home. After dropping the other Soldiers off to their waiting families, my husband drove the remaining hour to our airport to drop off the car. I waited and watched each car that came though he parking deck...finally spotting my Honey...took off in a dead sprint into his arms!! Nope...no shame in my game!
We arrived home to waiting friends and family..

Jake wasn't sure what was going on at first..he was so confused or in disbelieve like the rest of us. Then it hit him and has been glued to Rich ever since. He's one happy dog!

After a few days of sleeping and getting in the Home groove, we went to Nashvegas (Nashville) with our best friends, Brian and Leigh Ann.

 Oh, the AWESOME boots....my Christmas present from Rich!

I'm loving R&R and having my husband home.

There are so many of you out there in Blogland that are not spending this Holiday with your spouses. My heart goes out to each one of you and your Soldiers. I wish you all a Merry Christmas wherever you are.

Ahh....Completeness - I've Missed You!

Flashback Friday

Flashback to April 13, 2010! The day my Honey left for the Sand Box!

The NEXT picture I post will be of us together again!!!

Can I get a big "Hell Yea!!"

Waiting For the First Step...

Today was the day ... Wednesday in the Sand Box...my husband would hopefully be catching a flight to turn in his leave papers, make his travel arrangements and begin his way home for R&R. Do you KNOW how exciting that is to know that the journey was beginning?? After 8 1/2 months my husband would be coming home..to me...to us...to home!

Until...

I get to the gym at 0445 (roughly 1530 for him) and (for the first time) carry my cell phone in with me. I text him and pray that he does not answer. To answer would mean that he is still at work and not on a flight.

 Me (0501): "Still @ work? I hope not! I love you!

 I wait. And walk to the restroom to pee before I start working out.

 Him (0503): "Yep"

 Me (0504): "Noooooo...you are supposed to be getting on a plane! what happened?

Him: (0512) "Bumped! I sent you a note on email".

At 0508 my cell phone rings and it's my husband. He's been bumped until tomorrow afternoon; guaranteed on that flight out.I started crying...sitting on the toilet...at the gym. I just started crying!

Him: "Honey, I didn't mean to break your heart. It's okay. I'll be out of here tomorrow afternoon."

Me: "After all of this time, I was just hoping you were on your way through the first step home".

Him: "Soon, Babe...soon"

The Last of the First..

In 2010 we went through our first Easter, first Birthdays, first Anniversaries, first births, first weddings, first Halloween, first Thanksgiving...now Christmas is coming ...the first without my parents. So many 'firsts' without them. After Christmas we will never be able to look back and say, "last year we did this or did that" with Mother and Daddy.

Christmas Eve last year was the last Christmas we would spend with my Mom and Dad. We gathered in my Dad's hospital room (in respite care). Daddy was the only person that didn't know that he was going to die.  So we gathered in true family fashion, gifts in hand. Mom and Dad both decked in red, Daddy with the traditional red Santa hat. Only this time, he couldn't read the names on the gifts well, so I told him each name and he called it out, giving each of us a gift. We all relished in the moment of family togetherness..our last as a whole family. We just didn't realize how broken we would become in the following days. Five days later my Mother died unexpectedly (12/29)..two days after that, my Father (12/31). We buried them together on Jan.3rd. We became instant orphans...no longer any one's children.

Maybe it's the time of year...the specialness that Christmas brought in the past... maybe it's the events of those last few days and weeks - hell, even the year - but I am unable to sleep ~ to stop the thoughts, conversations, what-if's, that haunt my mind when I try to sleep at night. I pray to God each night to quieten my mind  - I don't want to remember Dec. 29th....I don't want to think about New Years Eve...it's painful beyond words and it's still wrong on so many levels.

The last Christmas...

Motivation & Getting Hosed!

So...Since getting back to 'myself' after the first nine months of the year I began to workout at a gym close to home. At first I hated the thought of getting up at 0430 to be at the gym by 0500. (If I didn't go before work..I sure as hell wouldn't do it after). Some mornings I would lie in bed and come up with a gazillion reasons why I didn't want to or shouldn't go. (ex., My muscles hurt, I was too out of shape, I should go to work early, what if I looked stupid, I didn't know what I was doing). To be honest, a few mornings I did lose the battle, but most of them I remembered that those excuses got me where I was in the first place...so I forced myself up and out the door four mornings a week. There's a motivational sign in the gym that I see every morning that I go (now 5 mornings), "When your body begins to scream, tell it to shut up"! I like that sign and tell that to myself on the days I feel too sore to get up.

I even enrolled in a Total Fitness Program that consisted of a healthy eating program, fitness, and motivation. When I started out back mid-Sept I was 18 pounds heavier than I am right now and 22.5 inches larger. I was pushing a size 14 for comfort and am now proud of the 10/11 that I am now.

Aug/Sept


















Me Today















I'm no longer self-conscious about going to the gym around other people..I realized that they were there for the same reason I was and what the hell did I care what others thought of me. It was what I thought of me that mattered most! I think I'm actually more excited by the inner changes in me than I am about the outer changes (which I cannot wait for my husband to see - I hope he'll be proud of me too). My body and mind are conditioned to wake up at 0430 for the gym now which makes it a pain in the ass to sleep in on the days I don't go to the gym and WANT to sleep in. It's also going to be a bitch with my husband comes home for R&R! But, I started this for a reason and I'm going all the way!

So the 'hosing' story is this: Today I wore the blue outfit above...with pantyhose. Fine and dandy, right? regardless of a few pounds and inches lost it's hard to convince the brain that you are not the same size..at least my brain anyway. I bought the same size hose that I'd been buying for a LONG time, not taking into account the areas I'd lost inches like my waist and hips. Most of today I felt my hose slipping down my hips and was constantly having to discreetly tug them back up to my waistline.

After work I was walking down the hallway to leave. I have a box in my left arm, my work tote and purse on my right shoulder and arm, my daughter calls me - so now I am holding my cell phone in my right hand....walking...when I feel my pantyhose slipping...and slipping...and slipping..down my hips..just about off my butt. There is no where to stop and get things under control. I start laughing at the thought that any minute my hose are going to slid down my legs in the middle of the hallway! I make it to a work table near some copier station and drop everything I'm toting to yank my pantyhose back up! Needless to say, I'll be trashing these hose as soon as I change clothes in a bit!

That's my motivation and hose story!
Peace Out!

Day 242

My husband has been gone 242 day.

It was a cool, crisp morning that April 10th when we smiled for a 'one last' photo together, one more hug and kiss...then he was gone. In those first few days I couldn't imagine getting through the day or 4,5, 20, 100...much less day 242. But, here I am ~ here we are. It's been a difficult 242 days without him for more reasons than just the loneliness of being separated; maybe it made the deployment more painful...I don't know.

R&R is coming soon (less than 2 weeks now) and I could not be more excited! I also couldn't be more nervous and anxious! I want his time home to be perfect, stress-free, drama-free, and without an agenda to follow.

I look forward to lying beside him again at night...just listening to his heartbeat and the sound of him sleeping. I can't wait to wake up and see him there with me (Jake probably between us) for 15 days! I'll pretend to be perturbed but we all know I won't be. I love forward to making love to my husband again (sorry Jake..you gotta go), to making him coffee, to watching him piddle around the house, to just having him in my space!

Soon!
We are waiting!!!!

It's His Day...

Today is my Daddy's 70th Birthday. It would've been...it should've been...it still is. Yet, he stopped aging when he died last New Years Eve. In my heart,though, he's is 70 now - not 69. Last year we held on prayer and hope that he would live to 69 and outlive 5 generations of Blocker men who lost their lives to Heart disease. He made it, only to die a few weeks later (2 days after my Mother).

William Johnnie Blocker was born December 5, 1940 in Geneva, AL. He was the oldest of three children and the self-proclaimed protector of everyone and everything. My daddy loved us with such a deep fierceness and, underneath his gruff and strict persona, was never embarrassed or ashamed to tell/show us that he loved us.

Daddy wore a red cowboy hat...always. He loved Butter-Pecan ice cream, his childhood nickname was Jigs, he was called Johnny throughout his life, he loved his trip to Disney World, was glued to his TV when he was home off the road, and enjoyed feeding the squirrels in the back yard when he retired.

He had a deep love for his brother, my Mother, and the four of us kids. (I'm not slighting his love for all of his family - he loved just about everyone). Dad wasn't a particular tall guy (5'8'ish maybe) but his personality was his strength. He was loud, sometimes could be obnoxious, loved to laugh, overload your email with junk emails (Oh, my...could he ever), he was bull-headed, and the along with my Mother - was the life of every family gathering near or far.

My heart is broken today wanting him back. I miss him so much.

A Step in Time...

When I married my husband 13 1/2 years ago,  I did not gain a step-son....I gained a Son. When my husband pledged his love to me, he did not gain a step-daughter and a step-son....he accepted another Son and a Daughter. Neither my husband and I became "step"-parents...we became full-time parents to 3 wonderful, amazing and sometimes challenging kids - who are now wonderful, amazing and sometimes challenging adults.

When my husband and I exchanged golden wedding bands, we gave our children gold wedding bands to symbolize the circle of our family bond and that, although they had other family bonds and relationships with their other respective Mother/Father, we were all one family from that moment on. There were no 'steps' and we never referred to our family or children in a 'step' way.

To be called, labeled, or referred to as a 'Step" or any other names/words intended to break down the unity of our family, by others - is degrading, hurtful, and disrespectful.

To hell with anyone who thinks differently!

Wordless Wednesday!