My Other Dad...

I was lucky enough to find my second family 23 years ago.They have always welcomed me and treated me like I was blood since I first started dating Dustin. Even our grandparents were excited, since they had been friends in Del Bonita and now they could conspire to join the two families. I may have been shy and awkward at first, but I never doubted their love for me.

I'm going to tell you about my other Dad...

I didn't know Craig when he was younger. I only knew him when I was a shy teenager, dating his son.  I'm sure my time at the rink watching little Greg play, and then into the teen years watching the boys play I had met him, and I knew who he was, but as hard as I can, I cannot remember the first time I actually met him. But I can tell you, he always welcomed me into their home. He never made me feel weird, like an outsider, and he used to always tell me to "Drive Safe," when I was heading back to Del Bonita. Oh, and he always tried to fill me with food. And when I met Gramma Shirley, I knew exactly where that came from!

When we lived in California and I came home the first time by myself with the kids, I knew that I couldn't just stay in Del Bonita. I wanted my kids to know BOTH grandparents just as well. (and it gives everyone a little break from a hurricane toddler and a whiny baby!) And I remember feeling so nervous about staying at Craig and Sherry's BY MYSELF! I don't know why, but I did. But after I got there, I had to laugh at myself, because they treated me and my kids just like they would have if Dustin had been there. They hugged me and loved and spoiled my kids just like my parents did. After that, I never felt nervous about staying there. It was just my other home.

Craig was always so good to help us with ANYTHING! And he couldn't just help. He wanted to make sure that whatever he was doing, whether it was fixing a fuse on a socket, or learning how to shoot a gun properly or tearing up my backyard, he made sure that whatever person was there was learning how to do it too. He didn't care if it took an extra two hours to accomplish the task, he taught them how to do the job right, and made sure they knew how to do the job by themselves next time. He would let the grandkids work the tools, taught them how to do it properly so they wouldn't get hurt, and let them learn for themselves how to make something better.

I love this picture...this is Dustin tearing up the old stumps in the backyard. Craig had brought over his little backhoe and was showing him how to do it, giving him tips, but never taking over. Letting Dustin do it for himself. I call Dustin 'Mini Craig' because so many times he has taken the knowledge that his Dad has given him over the years and made/built/fixed something for our family. 

He loved his kids so much. You could tell by the way he talked about them. He could kind of talk them up without sounding too braggy. You could ask him what anyone of them or their spouse's was doing, and he knew. He was proud of them and all they have done. There are 5 of us imports and he showed us just as much love as his own kids. I remember when I was teaching clogging, and after a recital one time when Leanne was younger, he said something along the lines of "Dancing really isn't my thing, but you guys sure did a good job. Proud of you, kiddo."

And because he knew what the kids were up to, he DEFINITELY knew what the grandkids were up to! I don't want to say he loves the grandkids more, but he loves them in a different way. The way any grandparent loves their grandchildren. You love your kids, but they put you through the ringer!

 Your grandkids you love with more patience and wisdom. You've been through the fight with children and come out on the other side, and now you have more children to love and cuddle and teach, but not as many responsibilities! Lots of love and more to enjoy with the grandkids I think. 

And Craig enjoyed his grandkids to the fullest.

He loved to call the kids all the time. When we first moved to California, it was really hard, and Skype wasn't great yet, so we would try, but mostly we talked on the phone. Near the end of our sojourn, as technology got a little better, Skype was easier, but when he got Face-Time!?! He loved that! Getting to SEE his grandkids and talk to them at the same time!?! I don't know if he calls his grandkids that live farther away on the phone anymore. I think he always Face-timed them. He even called us, on a weekly basis, to check and see if there was anything he could help us with. Even though we were just down the block! He would call and see what the kids were up to, or ask the kids to help him move bales or with something in the yard. Or even offer some company when he knew I had to drive to hockey by myself and the weather was going to be bad...

He loved going to their sporting events, school events whatever. He loved helping them make Cub Cars in the garage. He loved taking them fishing and hunting and showing them how to properly use a gun so they could learn to enjoy the Great Outdoors as much as he did. He loved letting them do things like put gas on the fire before lighting it, that made us parents wince, but he got to do it because that's what grandpa's do. They get to spoil the kids and let them get away with having cookies before dinner, or hauling them up the snow hill during sledding, because "Its a long ways to walk!" Grandpa's are crazy enough to take 5 or 6 kids gopher hunting at the same time, and loved enough that the kids listen and no one gets shot! He was the Grandpa that loved them so much that he was like the other 'Dad' that the kids could go to for advice and love, with less of the Parental judgement. His love was always unconditional...

Craig loved helping others around him, almost as much as he loved helping his family. If he heard of someone needing something done, and he had a tool for it, he would call and lend a hand or lend a tool! He loved sharpening skates for the kids, especially when they came to the door and he got to visit with them in the shop while he did it. He made sure his candy bin was full so the kids could have a little treat after, too! He loved talking to people that walked by the house, or at the rink or ballgames. He had a lot of wisdom about life that he offered to everyone around him. He liked working on Town Council because he loved our little town of Magrath and wanted to make it the best place for everyone. He loved kids of all sizes, and even the 'kids' that grew up, he still loved to visit with them and hear what they were up to. He was a friend and Dad and Grampa to everyone.

Right now, I am not sure what we will do without him. He is such an integral part of our lives, I can't imagine not having him around. I try not to feel the anger that he is gone way too soon. I try not to feel bitter that it's not fair that we had to lose him. I'm trying to embrace the knowledge that life continues after this, that our loved ones are their waiting for us, that we will see him again. 

But it's hard. It's really really hard.

I am trying to think about what Craig has taught Dustin, my kids and myself. About helping those around you, and loving your people unconditionally and being there when they need you. About working hard and learning to fix things and, if you can't fix it yourself, learning how to, so next time you can. Learning to save for a rainy day, but also how to splurge a little on a sno-bob for a job well done. I look at the man I married, and I see so much of his Dad in him, and I also grateful for what Craig has given me and my kids through Dustin. I think about all the things he has taught us and showed us over these years and I know we have learned so much from him,

 and I wonder how we can put all that into our lives, and be more like him.  

Work hard, take extra time, be more loving to everyone around us, like he was.

 To live our lives like he lived his, so we can honour him and what he taught us.

So I look through pictures. 

I like pictures because I like capturing moments of happiness, and then being able to look back on them and remember. And so that is how I deal with things like this. I look through pictures and see the happy moments in our lives that Craig has touched. 

Most pictures of Craig, he has that huge smile on his face. But, I have very few pictures where he is looking at the camera. No, he isn't looking because he is too busy doing something with a kid or grandchild. He is too busy teaching them how to do shoot a gun or fix a faucet or love a horse. He's too busy making sure that skates are ready for game day or that glasses are mended or that calculators have names engraved on them so no one looses them. He's too busy making that child feel loved and respected, teaching them how to be their best selves. He's too busy making sure his town feels like a small village, a family place that people feel safe and loved. 

A place where people want to come back home. Just like he made his own home feel to his family.

 He was too busy loving us, helping us, and making us better people, to look at the camera...

Mental Health Check in...

The is my Mental health check in. Since May was mental health awareness month, I decided I should write this before the end of the month. AND it was my Fortieth birthday last week, and I had some thoughts on reaching Level Forty in my life.

Its been awhile, and I've been working on me ALOT. It has been tough. And many times, I have thought about quitting. I swear, on the days that I start feeling pretty good about myself again, those demons just jump right back on board and start reminding me of all the things that might go wrong or have gone wrong or that I am all wrong.

I started a Group Therapy session. I was really hesitant about it. I mean, I usually don't like speaking in groups of people, let alone strangers, and this is about things that I haven't even opened up to some of my friends about! Just the thought almost made me sick. But I went. I went because I needed to try something, and I wanted to try therapy before I tried medication. Not that I think that meds are bad, I just feel like I personally needed to work on some of MY STUFF and that would help pull me out of the funk.

The first couple of times I went, I didn't say much, but I was shocked of how it affected me. I would come home completely drained, feeling absolutely emotionally exhausted. I didn't really understand until the Therapist said to us one day how Group therapy can be like working out for twice that same amount of time. That even though you may not personally share, you are still emotionally sharing with these people. And you start to realize some of the things that you are going through. And you realize that you are not alone.

That is one big bonus of this. Someone would say something and I would think "That is exactly how I feel!' or 'I've thought about that, but never knew how to express it!' It was eye opening in so many ways. It has really helped me to feel like this is not so out of the ordinary. That I am not necessarily 'broken' because I am feeling depressed or anxious or whatever. It's just part of who I am. And I am starting to believe that.

That is a hard thing to accept though. Just last week, on my fortieth birthday, I was feeling pretty good. I had gone to Group that day, but I was feeling very positive and sunshiny! It was my birthday after all! I went for a walk with friends. I had me a Diet Coke! And I came home and sat for awhile. And I got thinking, 'I told myself I was going to be better by the time I was Forty.' Somewhere in my mind, I had told myself that by the time I was Forty, everything would be better. Like that change in dates was really going to make a huge difference or something. Well, I wasn't better. And I crashed. Hard. It was my birthday and I was basically a mess. Because I had convinced myself that I was not better and therefor not good enough.

Have you ever done this? Had some weird goal in mind and then if you don't quite get there when you think you should you just throw in the towel and tell yourself that you will never get there? Maybe it's just me. Or maybe my demons are pushing me back down. I'm not sure. But whatever the case, I had an ok day, but not the best birthday by far.

I felt bad for my husband because he tried so hard to pull me out. He brought me my favorite flowers and my favorite ice cream cake. He got the kids to bed. He had planned a dinner the next day with some friends, which was good, because it made me get out of the house the next day, even though I just wanted to curl up in my bed forever. He is my hero for wanting to fix it...

It was not a great day, BUT (and this is how I know I am on the road to 'recovery') I was able to figure out WHY. I was able to step back and look at what was going on in my brain and realize that I had did this to myself. It took me a couple of days, but I did it. I had come up with this crazy concept that I would be 'better' by this time and now I wasn't completely 'better' and so I was mad at myself, and therefor, mad at the world around me.

Over the last week I have thought about this a lot. And I am coming to realize that I don't think I will ever be 'better'. I really believe that I will always have this battle. I will always have to battle anxiety and worry and I will always have to keep myself from falling into that spiral of what ifs and should haves that make me sad. This is a part of me that I will have to come to terms with and figure out how to live with. I will have to figure out the best strategies for me to get through those thoughts. And I will probably have to do it EVERY DAY.

The thought of that makes me sad and a little angry. And I know I am not fully embracing this yet because I still think about 'when I'm better'. But this is how I know that this is truly a part of me. I have always been like this, worried about things I can't change, worried of others opinions, worried about myself and family, weird fantastical stories that I make up in my head of what 'could happen' and never have. This has always been with me. It's just, I've been able to pull myself out. Maybe not in a healthy way, but I have been able to get past it. This time, I couldn't. I couldn't get myself past it. But I am getting there. I can feel it. I feel like the edge of the pit is just above me, like the light at the end of a dark tunnel that I couldn't really see before. Like I am almost there.

Am I better? Yes, I guess in a way I am. But in many ways I'm not. Just yesterday I had a complete melt down over something fairly small, but still felt like my fault. And I blamed myself and my incompetencies over it. Even though I shouldn't have. As my husband pointed out, it really wasn't a huge deal, and we could fix it. But I still felt bad and cried and cried. BUT, the kicker is, I got up. I finished my day and went out and fought through without spiralling into a sobbing mess that hides in her sheets.

That's how I know that I'm getting there...

How do you love yourself...

I am not writing this for the extra comments or to have people tell me that I am beautiful or lucky or amazing. Those things are wonderful! They really are. There is nothing like having someone give you a compliment, especially if you are feeling down. But I am writing this as kind of a continuation of my last post. Something that I struggle with constantly, and something I know directly affects my anxiety and depression. And frankly, I could use some ideas on how to get through it.

How do you go about loving yourself? When do you feel beautiful? Do you look in the mirror and feel proud of who you are? Do you look at your life and think of how far you've come? How blessed you are? Do you work out to fit into clothes you THINK you should wear? Do you spend hours primping to feel a little sexy when you go out with your Love? How do YOU go about loving yourself?

I'm not asking for a friend. I'm asking for myself because I have a hard time with this. I have a hard time looking at myself and feeling proud. I have a hard time thinking I've had anything to do with how awesome my kids have turned out. Or how I have a pretty great husband. And I have a hard time when the clothes I want to fit into DON'T WORK.

I watched the Marie Kondo special on Netflix, just like the rest of North America and away I flew through my house. No, I am not totally done. But I've had a good start. I also read the book awhile back, so I have tried this before, but I was feeling really amped this time. So I hit my closet.

I did not make a mountain of clothes to go through. I am a chucker, so I rarely hold onto things that I don't think are useful. And my closet and dresser are fairly organized, so instead I went through the categories: shirts, pants, workout clothes etc. And I made little mini mountains of those things and purged and folded into neat little packs and put them away. I have done this a few times before, but this time was quite different than the last few...

This time, I threw away the 'Skinny' clothes...

I got rid of anything that did not fit, or that I was holding onto for when I lost a little more weight and I would feel comfortable in it. It does not 'spark joy' to me to have these things sitting there in my possession, waiting till I lost 'just a little more' to try and fit them over my butt. I wanted to get rid of them because I am tired of hating on myself for NOT fitting into them. I've decided that I can't keep waiting for that 'someday'. I need to live for today, and today I am this size. Today I am in this place in my life where I need to love me for RIGHT NOW, not who I am going to be. And definitely not for a size I might get back to.

This was hard for me, because, in a way, I felt a little like a failure. I have been holding onto some of these things for YEARS, waiting to be worn again when I felt comfortable enough to wear them. Or again, can get my leg through the leg hole. I felt a little like I was giving up. But why? In my heart, I do not believe that your beauty is solely based on your body or how you look. When I look at the amazing women in my life, they all come in different sizes and shapes and colours! And I do not find it very hard at all to see the beauty in each one of them. It literally glows from each of them. But when I look at myself, my mind tells me otherwise. My Dark Place tells me I am lazy and I can never do it and I will never look good until I hit 'this size'. My Dark Place tells me he will never be attracted to me if I look like this. That I will never be good enough until I am just so.

Again, I know this is such a harsh idea. I KNOW in my heart that we are more than the package we come in. I know that many aesthetically pleasing people are really just plain awful when you get to know them. I know that how you treat those around you and how you act and how you talk are better measurements to what makes you a beautiful person. I know that when you are happy and positive and fun that people just WANT to be around you! That light really just glows from inside. That's what I see when I look at the women around me. I see those things. Yes, sometimes I look at their pictures on social media and I think, "Dang, she is looking so good today!" But most of the time, I see those pictures and I remember things we did together. How they made me feel. How we laugh and laugh. The amazing things I've seen them do for their family, or for their community. The women in my life make me want to be a better person.

And this is where I struggle. I DO NOT see this in myself.

Let me rephrase that. On bad days, I do not see this in myself. On those bad days, when my kids are fighting, and my husband has picked up extra shifts and is gone more than usual, and I burnt supper because I forgot I was cooking. Those days, I feel like an exhausted mess. On the bad days where I can't get the motivation to do much more than get the kids to school before I fall back into bed, those days I feel lazy and useless. Those days where I've fought with a child over the merits of schoolwork over the social calendar, or why they can't play video games for 3 straight hours, or why we all need to chip in and help around the house, those days I feel like I've failed as a mother. Those days where we are so busy with life that I get to talk to my husband for 2 minutes before he leaves and for about 30 minutes when he gets home, and all I've done is bug him about things I think we should get done, or we need to do, or things that the kids have done, before we collapse into bed exhausted from the day. Those days I look at myself in the mirror and I see how tired and rough I look and I think, why would he ever want me?

On the good days, I feel pretty good. On the days where I have my crap together and dinner is made on time and we have gotten everywhere we need to without rushing and things are going just so, those days I feel like I really can do this. The days when we have date night and I get a little extra time to doll up, I look at myself and I feel beautiful. The days when we get a chance to do something as a family and be silly and laugh, I feel like my life is complete.

Its just that those times are interspersed with the bad times and I forget to feel beautiful love myself in between.

This is what I've tried. Some days they work, some days not so much. Some days I have to fake it to make it! And hopefully one day, I can totally convince myself that I am worth it.

•  Post it notes and affirmations - I've stuck these on my mirrors and walls, trying to remind myself that I'm good enough, that I'm beautiful, that I am a good mom, wife, person. It works pretty good. It's a visual thing, and I am a visual learner. They are also really easy to remove, so bad days they get ripped down and tossed because I'm mad at myself. So I put them up again. 

• Journaling. Specifically writing affirmations down in a book. It's a lot harder to throw away. I also write gratitude lists, I write lists about things I like or things that make me happy. Trying to remind myself of the good in my life. This works too, when I remember to do it. 

• Trying to take compliments to heart. Not brushing them off. Why is this so hard? I think compliments are such an amazing way to lift someones spirits and yet if someone says something to me, I usually brush it off. I make an excuse. I can rarely take it to heart and believe that it is true. Ask my husband. Most times when he says something nice to me or about me, I tell him he's lying, or making it up. I tell him he's wrong. But when I do answer with just a simple thank you, it makes a complete difference in my mentality of how I think about myself. This is a hard one for me, but I'm getting better.

• I work out. I move. I sweat until the stress and anxiety are basically leaking from my body. I do admit, I work out because I want to look better, fit into those jeans. But I also know, on the days I do not move, I feel worse. When I can get even a quick 20 minutes in, my body feels alive. My mind clears a bit. I feel strong and I have more confidence. I also don't want to punch  people that annoy me, so there's that bonus too.

So, how do you do it? Seriously guys. What do you do that makes you feel beautiful? What do you do to remind yourself to love yourself EVERYDAY? When life is crazy and throwing everything at you, what do you do to remind yourself that you are strong and capable and amazing, and that you got this?!?

It's a New Year

It's New Years Eve. Closing the door on a pretty hard year, and hopefully opening up something great in 2019. Looking back I can see all the great things that have happened to me. All the ways I have been blessed. Things I've learned about myself and things I know I want to change about myself as well. How I want to be a better and more authentic version or myself. How I want to see the good and beauty in myself. How I want to FEEL like I am a good enough wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, and human being.

Depression and Anxiety affect around 18% of the population. And yet so few seek treatment. I am one of those few. I figured I could make it work on my own. I was strong enough and positive enough and I was going to battle it out on my own terms. And I will say, from December 2017- now, I am better at coping in many ways. But I am far from better. I am finally realizing that I can't do it on my own.

I tried some online therapy. It helped but was only temporary. It did help me learn how to 'Step Outside' of myself and see the situation for what it was, NOT how it was affecting my emotions. That was good. Most times I can talk myself through something hard, or through something that is bothering me, and I can figure out WHY it is bothering me, instead of just reacting. So it did help, but it definitely wasn't long enough. Or at least not long enough without anything else.

I also tried Podcasts and Inspirational reading. These helped a lot. I found a lot of podcasts on loving yourself and being yourself. I read books like "The Life Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*$#" by Sarah Knight, and "You are a Bad A$$" by Jen Sincero and my favourite, "Girl, Wash your Face" by Rachel Hollis. These books really spoke to me in so many ways. I learned things like how I am important in MY OWN LIFE. How I am in control of MY OWN LIFE. And how only I could change things. They reminded me that I was strong and beautiful, when I am being myself. And they reminded me that the world needed ME AS MYSELF.

Now, do I remember that? Not great, or I would probably be in a better place right now. But they helped. And even when I am in the Dark Place of my mind, and my thoughts are confused and racing, some of those things come to me and help pull me out. I find that THAT is the hardest part of Depression and Anxiety. Something happens that bothers you and you find yourself falling and you can't stop. You start to over analyze every little thing that was said, or maybe you should have said. You start to worry that you have offended that person or you are hurt because they offended you. Your mind plays the situation over and over and you wonder if you reacted the right way. And you keep thinking about it, and you are stressing over it, and then something else happens and it piles on top. Or opens a new tab in your brain. And pretty soon you have 12 tabs open, and all of them seem important. And your brain can't quite focus on which one to start with or think about or fix. And you start to feel small and inadequate and that you will never be good enough to do any of it. And usually about this time, I snap. I cry and rage over something trivial, like how my kids didn't finish their chores. Or that my husband didn't all and tell me about a shift he picked up. Or plans fall through with friends. Or the stress of getting ready for something like Christmas.

My problem is that I am really good at faking it. I am really good at acting the part. I am good in social situations, laughing and talking with friends and family because I don't want to be a bother. I don't want to burden anyone with the fact that it took me an extra 2 hours to get ready that day because it was just too much to get out of bed that morning. Or let anyone know that I was so worried about a conversation that I had with an acquaintance that I couldn't sleep for 2 nights. I don't want to let people know that I feel weak and helpless most of the time. That my smile is painted on and trying to cover the fact that I am hurting inside.

But I am realizing that I can't do this alone anymore. There are a select few in my circle that I have talked about these things with. Very few, because its hard to trust when you are always worried about things and what people think of you. You tend to assume the worst. But I am trying to let my walls down. I am trying to accept the fact that most people are good. And that most people are so consumed with their own lives that they are hardly giving me any second thought. I need to remember that the only opinion that really matters is my own. I have to live with my decisions, no one else does, and they probably could care less. Why? Because they are too busy with their own circus, and their own monkeys.

I need to get a grip on this because I need to be better for my husband and my kids. My kids have seen me cry and rage and even tell them that I just can't go to that event or whatever because I just can't deal with being around people at that time. I have hid in my room all night, because I just CAN'T. I have snuck out of my bed at night and cried in the living room by myself so I don't wake my husband up. And sometimes I cry and rage in from of him about things that he said and I took the wrong way and I'm probably at a 12 tab moment and that one thing has made me snap. And he holds me and lets me cry and yell, and tells me that he still loves me. Even when I tell him that I am giving up inside and that I don't think I can fight anymore, he still tells me he loves me. And he has been telling me that I need help, and I know that I do because it's not fair to him or my kids to keep up like this.

I turn Forty in a few months. I remember the year I was supposed to turn thirty. I had decided I was going to be thirty and flirty and fabulous! LOL! It was a pretty good year. At forty I am far from dead. I have a lot of things I still want to do and I still want to be. And I want to be happy and have fun and make amazing memories with my husband and my kids. So I need to do this. I need to just push aside feeling shame of not being able to do this on my own. Put aside my pride and let someone else in. Tell my circle about it so they can help me get through things so I don't have to crawl my way out by myself.

I debated wether I should share this publicly or not. I am still worried about what people may say about me, or even to me. How they may judge me. I know that everyone that suffers with Depression and Anxiety deal with things in their own way. I also know that many do not think it is a real thing or that you need 'help'. I think that's why I tried for so long to do it on my own. I also know that maybe my writing this may help someone else.

I lost a friend last year to suicide. I had only talked to him a handful of times since we graduated, but I think our grade was particularly close. And Dustin played hockey with him all growing up. When we had heard what had happened, I was so shocked and so sad. And I was scared. So many people say they don't understand how someone could kill themselves. How could you do that to your friends and family? But, I know. I know how empty and sad you can feel. How you don't know if there is any point in being here on this Earth anymore. How You just don't think you can try anymore. And how you truly believe that your loved ones would be better off without you because you feel so worthless. When I heard about my friend it scared me because I was at that point. And coming up on the one year mark of this sad occasion, I realize I have come a ways, but I am still far from being better.

So I am telling my story. And its scary to do that. It scares me to death. But I hope it will help me. I hope it will help me be a more authentic version of myself, because its out there. I hope that it will make me a little more accountable for working on myself because its out there. And I hope it will help me reach out to people that can help me, but also reach out to people that may need help too. We shouldn't be scared or ashamed for asking for help, or even for feeling a little tired and weak at times. Even if 'at times' lengthens into months and years. So many times we try and go through this life being strong for those around us, we forget how to be strong for ourselves.

My ER Nurse...

It's Emergency Nurses Week. I am married to one. He is amazing in so many ways, and a lot of those ways are because he is an Emergency Nurse. This is my post to him, to his colleagues past and present, and to their families...

My husband is an Emergency Nurse. He has been for 13 years, ever since he graduated from school. Except a small 2 week stint in the Cath Lab, and now the odd shift at the Dental Office, he has always worked in the ER. I have seen many changes in him throughout the years, some good and some sad, but all have shaped him into the Man he is today. And they make me appreciate what he does, day in and day out, for me and my kids and for the people he is helping.

I have watched him come home excited from a days work in Bakersfield because of something new he has learned or that a Doctor let him try. That doesn't happen as often in Canada. It's a different environment. But he still comes home and he seems 'happier' than other days. I put that in quotes because it's not quite the right word. Maybe satisfied would be better. Like things actually worked out  today and made him feel like he made a difference. Those are the days I look forward to, because he is wanting to talk or hear about our days. I think sometimes those are the days that keep him going...

Now he will probably say that this is bull$#!/, that he just goes to work because its a job, and it pays the bills. And partly that is true. But I've seen the good days and the bad days come home. I've seen the hard days take its toll on him, on me and on my family. So I know that there has to be some good days to keep him going...

Those hard days are hard for him. He may not say much about it to me. But I know its happened. He shuts himself away from us for a couple of hours to 'decompress'. And I don't think he even realizes he is doing it, but I know he needs it, and I know it must have been a not so great day when he disappears when he gets home from work. I see it in his face, the tired look in his eyes and how he almost can't even handle me and the kids. But he does, because he loves us.

I've watched him come home and just hold my kids because of a patient they lost. I've watched him run into the house just to pee because he didn't get a break all day. I've watched him give up watching his kids play sports because he has to work. I've watched him plan vacations around sporting events or family functions so he can spend more time with them. I've watched him get up early to help coach one kid, go to work all day, and come home to coach another kid, sometimes just eating for the 5 minutes in between.I've watched him get up 2 hours early so he can have Christmas Morning with his kids, because he's going to have to work all day. I've gotten many a calls or texts saying he has to stay a little longer because he is needed there. I've sat waiting at home, knowing he's late because traumas don't end because your shift does. I've watched him turn a little more jaded through the years because of treating the same drunks and drug seekers over and over and not really helping. I've watched him grow into the amazing father and husband and man he is because he's not scared to sacrifice for us.

But having an ER nurse in your life is also an amazing thing. They are super calm in the weirdest situations. They also know how to really 'let go' of things and just accept life flying at them at a ridiculous pace. These are the two best things I have witnessed in my husband. But mostly for my benefit because I am a basket case with anything crazy. He is my calm, my rock. A few words of comfort and a well timed joke usually help me see through the storm and calm down. That sometimes makes me feel bad, because he has to take care of bizarre things on a regular basis and then he gets to come home to his crazy wife and kids. But he does it. Willingly taking care of my crazy so I can take care of our family. Willingly helping me run the kids all over on his days off when I'm sure he'd rather sleep in. Willingly putting aside the jaded attitude that the world out there has given him, to put on a smile and sarcastic wit to help me see the brighter things in our life.

It is a separate life he lives and keeps from us. He keeps it from us, because to someone who doesn't work in that environment, it's hard to understand. It's trauma. And it's not just trauma to the people that are sick or hurt or dying. It's trauma to the ones trying to get those people through that. It's hard to explain about watching someone die or not being able to help or feeling someone's ribs crack under your hands while you give CPR. It's hard not to bring that into your everyday life, to just let go and forget about those patients and their families that you are helping and comforting and trying to make a difference for. It's hard to not think about those things while trying to take care of your family and be there for them.

This separate life is really hard for me to accept. I feel very outside when I am with him and he is with his 'ER Family'. They have a bond with him that I will never have because of the things that they deal with and go through together just about everyday. But I am grateful for them. I am grateful he has them to support and be there for him, to understand what he has to deal with in a way that I never will be able to. I am glad that they have each other to support one another and try and make the best out of scary and crazy situations.

ER nurses put up with a lot of $#!/, both literally and figuratively. And they do it both for their families and the families that need them. They work hard on holidays and weekends and nights to make sure you have somewhere to go if you are really hurt, or even not so hurt. They learn to support each other through the crisis and then go home to their families and support them through life. They learn to get through the crazy, and go home with a good attitude, because their families need them outside of work. Er Nurses help patients get through hard things, and then go home and help their kids get through Math. They have two lives, and therefor, two families. One family helps them get through work, and the other waits for them to come home from work.

I am grateful for my ER nurse. I am grateful for his ER family that help him get through his job, so that he can come home to us. I am grateful he has that support to get him though his days, so he can come home and support me and our kids. I am grateful for the things he has learned and seen and how they have shaped him into the person he is. I am so proud of my ER Nurse and proud of everything he has done to build the life we have together.