About Me

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Ohio, United States
My journey before and after bariatric surgery.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

CHANGING ELI'S WORLD BLOG SITE

Good morning!

I have had so many people tell me over the last year that they cannot comment on  blog posts for Eli's World or subscribe to the blog because blogger.com doesn't allow those options unless the person creates their own blog account.  Not many people want to do that!  So I have decided to change blogging sites and move the Eli's World to Wordpress, another free blogging site.  I believe you will be able to leave comments and (hopefully) subscribe to the blog if you wish, so that new posts will be emailed directly to you.

The new URL is https://elisworldpddnos.wordpress.com/

Check it out!!

This blog will remain active - I'm not taking the blog down.  Feel free to continue to utilize the past year's posts if you find them helpful.  However, any NEW posts will be created at the new site.

As always, thanks for all the support and love!

Kim

Friday, January 4, 2013

Saying Goodbye

My father passed away 11 days before Christmas.  It was unexpected only in that, while we knew Dad's health was bad and that he really wasn't doing very well at all, we just didn't expect him to be suddenly gone from us.  My sister was blessed with one last time to see him.  She lives in that general area and had taken the opportunity to see him at the hospital he'd been quickly transported to, not at all realizing it would be her final goodbye when she left.  Dad was in a hospital an hour and a half away from where my parents and I both live.  Mom and I hadn't made it there yet.  We did not have a chance to say goodbye.  And still have not since my mother, for reasons important to her, has delayed the Memorial Service until March.

I am left with this numbing emptiness and no closure...a feeling that fills my entire being.  I have no choice but to tamp down the grief and keep moving forward through each day as if nothing is wrong, nothing is lost.  Sometimes it wells up from the very center of my core and washes over me, overwhelming me to the point that I can't even breathe.  The tears will then flow.  Sometimes I am angry.  But then I squash it all down again and I keep being wife...mother...daughter....and whatever else I am supposed to be.  It's what I do, right? It's expected.  After all, I can't just stop.  So I put one foot in front of the other and do what I'm supposed to.

Yesterday, what I was "supposed to do" was help Eli clean out his room.  I have a few days left of Christmas vacation and I'm trying to make them count.  Eli has not been shaken by my father's death.  They were not close.  Dad's health has been bad for some time and while he cherished his grandsons from afar, he was unable to interact with them in ways that build bonds.  It's unfortunate, but it is what it is.

At the end of yesterday afternoon, we took six or seven bags of donation items to the New To You store and dropped them off.  The store was closed, but as we were pulling away, we could see a couple of the employees carrying the bags into the building.

At bedtime we realized that Monkey was missing.

As a reminder, Monkey is Eli's constant companion.  His comfort.  His confidence.  His security.  Eli clings to Monkey as a small child would cling to a blanket. Monkey eases Eli in a way nothing else can.

Eli last remembers Monkey last lying on his floor in the same area he was bagging up old stuffed animals to be donated.  My heart became fearful at that point, but the entire family tore the house apart last night, searching desperately in every possible nook and cranny.  Nothing.  Eli found a substitute monkey to hold while sleeping...but it just wasn't the same.  His eyes held grief.  Worry.  I was surprised he was able to sleep at all.

This morning I am calling every half hour, trying to reach New To You to see, if by some chance they have Monkey. I have tried to prepare Eli....we are hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst.

This morning Eli got up before eight and the first thing out of his mouth was, "Did you call?!"  I explained it was too early, so he curled up in my lap and lay there, silently grieving.  I cried the tears he could not. The grief he could not feel for my father was shuddering through his small frame as he lay in my arms, experiencing a sense of loss that he'd never experienced before.  So I held him close and cried for him.

I am hopeful we can bring Monkey home.  However, I am doubtful. Monkey had long ago lost any substance to his little brown body.  All the "beans" that once filled him have leaked away over the years.  Perfect for a small hand seeking a soft comfort to hold on to.  But even if the employees came across Monkey while they were going through the bags we dropped off...he would have no retail value in his condition and most likely would have been tossed into a dumpster.  Our only hope is that they saved the bags until today.

Eli is sad, but I'm pleased that he seems to be handling himself quite well so far.  Pleased and surprised.  He is extra hyper today, moving constantly, unable to keep still, rocking, moving his feet and legs constantly.  It's the anxiety.  Still, he seems emotionally calm so far.  It might be the fact that there's still hope hanging in the air.  I worry about the potential meltdown that will relieve the build up of emotion sometime later, should we not be able to locate Monkey.  I will deal with that if it should come, with compassion and understanding. For I know firsthand how that feels.