Happy stuff, excitement, and a meltdown

It seems like I usually use this blog to talk about the stuff that's bothering me. Today I actually have something I'm happy and excited about: my second novel, The Game Changer. It comes out three weeks from today. It feels like I've been working on this book forever. I started it right after the release of Blue Sky Days, and it took me several months to write because I had so much else going on in my life. When I finished writing it, I set it aside rather than starting revisions right away, and I ended up writing my third book in the meantime. When book #3 was done, I started revisions on The Game Changer, sent it out to beta readers, and long story short, here I am, three weeks before publication. 

I posted the very first excerpt of the book on Ramblings of a Daydreamer today. It was exciting and nerve-wracking to share a little piece of the book. All morning I've had butterflies and barfy feelings lol. I also have a giveaway up and a request for people to help me spread the word about the book, since I haven't done much to promote it. If you'd like to read the excerpt and help me spread the word in exchange for a chance to win an awesome new book of your choice, head on over to Ramblings of a Daydreamer. 

I just finished revisions for the book last night, and I'm not even technically done because I need one more set of eyes to read over it, and that set of eyes is very busy this week. It's stressing me out, because the longer it takes her, the longer I have to push back formatting and sending the book out to reviewers. But...for right now I have a little reprieve. I actually don't know what to do with myself today. My sister-in-law has been sick the last few days, so I unexpectedly had today and yesterday off from babysitting duty. Goodness knows I have  a ton of stuff to do - my apartment is a mess, I have books lying all over my room because I need to organize my shelves, I need to catch up on blogging, reading, and writing articles for the site I freelance with....but right now I'm just enjoying a little quiet time.

So now we come to the meltdown part of the blog title. Just before writing this post, I realized I hadn't written the acknowledgements for The Game Changer. When I wrote Blue Sky Days, I thanked practically everyone I'd ever known, but this time it's just going to be people who had something to do with The Game Changer. I started writing and got a little teary, as I always do...I'm a sentimental sort...and then I got to the part where I wanted to thank my Grama (who's been gone for over a year now, and who I talked about quite a bit when I started Lost and Found), and I had a full-on meltdown. I went from a little trickle of tears to hysterical crying, and I couldn't stop. I miss her like crazy, and sometimes it hits me all over again that she's gone, but I think it was more than that. I think it was just everything that's happened in the last few months while I've been trying to be so strong and it all just caught up to me in a moment of weakness. I'm actually kind of sitting here laughing about it now, which probably means I've lost my mind. It feels better to get it all out, and it also feels really nice to have a break, however short, before the chaos starts up again.

 

  

Saturday morning

On Saturday I posted about the one-year anniversary of my Grama's death. Saturday morning my mum, brother, sister-in-law, two nephews, and I went to visit Grama's grave. It was the first time we'd been there since her burial (a year ago today). My grampa and great-grandparents are buried there too, and although my great-grandparents' stones were marked and the big family stone was marked with their last name, my grandparents' names weren't marked, and their individual names weren't on the big stone. We had that done this spring, so we wanted to see them, plus visit Grama's grave in honour of the anniversary of her death. 

The cemetery is about an hours' drive north of here where my mum grew up, and it's a beautiful, scenic drive. It was my first drive this whole summer, and it was amazing to be out and get to see all the beautiful fields and trees and pass through Amish country and revisit the area where my mum grew up. 

I didn't think visiting the cemetery would bother me. I know my grama's not there - her spirit is with us and it's just her body there, so I was sure I would be okay. During the drive up, and even as we walked in I was fine, but the minute I saw her marker - saw her name and the dates of her birth and death - I lost it. It seemed so final. All this time I've been able to convince myself she wasn't really gone, but seeing it there in black and white carved into stone made it real, and it was like losing her all over again. There have been so many times over the last year when I've forgotten that she's gone and when I remember it's like being swept under a tidal wave. I feel like I've lost her a million times over in the last twelve months.

Then when Logan (who turned two-and-a-half on Saturday) got down on his hands and knees and hugged the grave and said 'I love you', I thought I was never going to stop crying. There's no way he could remember her, but he seemed to know. We talk about her, we show him pictures, and there's not even a flicker of recognition there, but at the cemetery, he kept hugging her grave and talking to it. 

I don't know what Noah was thinking - he remembers her, of course, but he was very solemn and kept asking me questions about the family. We had a moment standing in front of the grave where he came to me and leaned against me and put his arms around me and we just stood there for a few minutes in silence. He so rarely does that anymore - he turned ten in July - and I would have given anything to know what he was thinking in those moments. I also would have given anything to freeze those moments and hold onto them forever.

Anyway...as I said on Saturday, I know the whole point of August Break is to post pictures and not have to come up with blog topics, and after being almost completely silent the whole month of July, of course I choose now to start blogging again. Typical lol.

My maternal great-grandparents and grandparents

Me and Mum - we owe everything to Grama

Noah and Logan

A happy moment on a sad day. Me and my sister-in-law Amanda - she's helped keep us strong this last year

One year...

I know the whole point of August Break is to take a break from blogging and post pictures and not have to come up with something to say, but I can't let today go by without talking about this.

Today is the one-year anniversary of my Grama's death. My Grama was an amazing woman. She was smart and funny and creative and pretty much the nicest, sweetest, kindest person you can imagine. Everyone loved her. She was one of those people you just fall in love with the instant you meet them. I saw it happen countless times. She was one of my best friends - a kindred spirit - someone I could count on, trust, and talk to about anything. 

I lost a piece of my heart the day she died. Life hasn't been the same in the last year. She was the heart and soul of my family, and so much of my mum's and my life centred around her. I miss her so much, and sometimes it's still hard to believe she's gone. 

So much has happened in the past year. I achieved my dream of becoming a published author, and it breaks my heart that she wasn't here to see that since she was my biggest supporter and my biggest fan. When I finished writing my second and third novels, I just sat and had a meltdown both times because I wanted to tell her so badly and knew how proud she would be. My nephews have grown so much, and she would have enjoyed every story, every photograph, every visit. I'm constantly thinking 'I'll have to remember to tell Grama that' or 'Grama will love that picture'. Still. Sometimes I wonder if I'll do that the rest of my life. 

Anyway...it wouldn't feel right not to remember and honour her today. She's a huge part of the reason I am who I am today, and she continues to inspire me even though she's gone.

U2 has been the soundtrack of my life for many years, so I thought it was fitting that I was listening to them when I got the news that Grama had died. I was home alone while my mum was at the hospital with family, and I was basically pacing around going crazy, making and taking phone calls, waiting for the inevitable. I came to my room, sat down, and put on Kite by U2. As soon as it started, I knew she was gone. I just knew it. But the words were so soothing, so comforting, so appropriate, it was like she was saying them to me herself. The song wasn't even over when my mum called to tell me. 

This version in particular breaks my heart because Bono had just lost his dad. It's so raw and emotional and powerful. This may sound incredibly messed up, but even though it hurts to listen to this song, I make myself listen to it on a regular basis especially when I'm feeling numb - the pain reminds me that she would want me to be happy and live my life. 

"Something is about to give

I can feel it coming

I think I know what it is

I'm not afraid to die

I'm not afraid to live

And when I'm flat on my back

I hope to feel like I did

...

I want you to know

That you don't need me anymore

I want you to know

You don't need anyone or anything at all

Who's to say where the wind will take you?

Who's to say what it is will break you?

I don't know which way the wind will blow

Who's to know when the time has come around

I don't wanna see you cry

I know that this is not goodbye"

 

 

18 years...

18 years ago today, my dad died. He had been sick for two years with leukemia, in and out of hospital (both in town and two hours away at the special cancer hospital), had chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant...but after such a long illness, his body just couldn't handle any more. He was almost exactly three months shy of his 50th birthday.

Because I was so young when he was sick and when he died, I blocked out a lot of those scary memories. We spent a lot of time in hospitals. There was one time when he was in the cancer hospital for three whole months. Mum and I were only able to visit him on weekends, and we had to depend on getting rides or taking the bus because we couldn't drive there. I have a few random memories of those two years, but it makes me sad that I basically lost that time because my mind blocked it all out. Self preservation, I guess? He was so sick...he lost a lot of weight, lost his hair, lost his sense of taste and smell...kids weren't generally allowed on the cancer floor (hello walking germ pits), but I was. The only time I wasn't allowed to visit him was after his bone marrow transplant when he was in ICU. I got to see him through the window though.

He hated having his picture taken - he preferred to be behind the camera. He often looked angry in pictures, except for pictures with me or Jamie or Mum. In most of the pictures with me, he was looking at me rather than directly at the camera.

I've forgotten a lot of things, but I remember that morning 18 years ago. My aunt and uncle came from the east coast to be there. They took turns staying with me in the visitor's lounge while I slept. I remember them being there when Mum woke me up at 4:30 in the morning to tell me Daddy was gone. I remember wanting to go to his room but they wouldn't let me. I remember bits and pieces of the long drive home. I remember my aunts and uncles showing up, a lot of whom I'd never met before. My dad was the youngest of 16 kids (although some of them had passed away by that point) and they all lived on the east coast, so I'd only met a handful of them before. It was weird having all those strangers in my house, but knowing they weren't really strangers, they were family I'd never met before. 

I love the way he's looking at me here. Jamie and I are ten years apart, and my nephews are almost 8 years apart. It's crazy to see pictures of Jamie and me  together as kids, because Noah and Logan look so much like Jamie and me. It makes me sad that my dad never got to meet them. He would have adored them.

It's weird to think that I've lived almost 2/3 of my life without him - I've lived longer without him than I lived with him.  

I've lost quite a few loved ones, but the biggest losses in my life were my dad and my Grama. There are a couple of ironic things about their deaths:

*My dad was 3 months shy of his 50th birthday when he died, and my Grama was 3 months shy of her 100th birthday when she died, making her twice the age he was when he died.

*When my Grama was in the hospital before she died (and when she died), she was in the last room my dad had in the local hospital before he died. He didn't die there, he was sent back to the cancer hospital and that's where he died. 

Weird, huh?

If you've read my novel Blue Sky Days, you'll see some of the similarities. Nicholas was diagnosed with leukemia and had to go to a cancer hospital an hour away. I have a scene where Emma walks in and the nurse is shaving his head - that's one clear memory I have from when my dad was in the hospital, so I worked it in. The room Nicholas was in was the same room number my dad and Grama were in. I worked in other little things, like Emma's dad's name was Paul, and that was my dad's middle name. There were other things, too. Writing the book was cathartic - I poured my heart and soul and guts into it, bled all over the pages and let the blood mix with the tears, the memories I had, and the ones I'd lost. I gave Nicholas the happy ending that my dad didn't get. I think he would have liked that.