FIGHT!

Fight! Funny topic to write about so let me get right to it. I was just talking to someone recently about an experience I had in the military. I was sent to a survival school in preparation for deployment and well, I got my ass handed to me during that experience. Up until that point or that situation, I had never been in any type of fight, unless you count with siblings or cousins, but never been beat up or punched. Little did I know, years later, for survival purposes, I would be hit so hard, that later I would understand it was for my own good. Well, I won’t elaborate all the details of that experience, but it made me a better soldier then and a better and more prepared woman now. I don’t ever consider myself a fighter, with fists and kicks and all that stuff, but I know, if it came to it, I would definitely rumble with the best of them, whether I won or not, there would have to be a real good damn reason for me to fight. Enough of the physical violence talk, I more wanted to talk about “staying in the fight” so to speak. As of lately, I have been so ready to just throw in the towel and literally keep my self under the covers, cry all day and wallow in self-pity because this single parenting business SUCKS. Tonight, especially, my kiddo and I could not say more than a few words to each other without yelling or screaming. We were at each other all day, for EVERYTHING! I seriously just wanted to go to my room, close the door and get under the covers and forget the day. I tried really hard to understand the anger, but most days it all just comes back to the same thing. That elephant in the room, that damn quarantine that has kept us all in and away from everyone and everything, and then just mere frustration from just about everything. My Lili has been angry at the world since her dad died and the best target for her is me. She is not in her routine of school, which was helping until Corona, then on the weekends we were starting to have family dinners and friends were coming over, which helped break up the long weeks of being home. Now, we are left with each other and these four walls. I know, we are trying our best to find that silver lining and for most people, I hear about the beautiful bonding going on…the family dinners and family game nights and all that “fun” family stuff, but call me selfish, but I would love that too, however, my “family” died on 1/31/2020. We are left alone in Alan’s home, with Alan’s things and Alan’s memories, honestly it has been a lot for both Lili and I. Yes, we defied the stay at home orders a few times just to get out of the house and breath the air outside and away from this. You can’t ever really imagine how hard it is until it happens to you and you are living this. It is easy to judge me and my decisions until you walk a “step” in my shoes, just one step, and you would take my shoes off fast. Don’t get me wrong, Lili and I have been talking more and laughing some and acting silly a lot, staying up watching movies and eating popcorn in bed, but we are in this ground hog day, where his memory suffocates us. Lili has a harder way of dealing with her grief and her outlet is anger. For me, I cry, most times alone, but other times, when it becomes too much, I just let it out. I prefer being home when that happens, but a lot of times it’s on the road and I will pull over to gather myself or just let the tears flow while I drive. Some days it becomes so unbearable to maintain a smile and keep my head up, but I have to. I don’t have the luxury of depending on a lot of people to “step in” for me. I don’t want a lot of people to “step in” for me, I have seen and read lately how some people think of me and it’s shocking that I have been judged by people who know nothing about me. It has been hard to trust lately and I find myself shrinking more and more on my circle of trust. I fight every day to keep my sanity and to keep my “family of 2” together. Just because you don’t see me disheveled publicly doesn’t mean that privately I am not a wreck. I hate that our grief was and is a public event. The funeral, as beautiful as it was, was on display for everyone to see. That will remain a memory for our family for the rest of our lives. We appreciate all the support, honestly we do, but it has been overwhelming and at times so difficult to manage. It’s so opposite of the life Alan and I built together, very private and very intimate. We shared only what we chose to for the public to see, but our private life and life that involved our kids, we kept to ourselves. It breaks me heart that people have chosen to dig up things about us that hurt us and our kids only to claim their 15 minutes of “fame” but for what reason other than to shame me and my family? Alan isn’t here to defend himself, it’s just us, and frankly I don’t have the energy to waste defending us and will never explain every detail of our lives then or now. Those that love us and know the truth about our lives are enough for my girls and I to have as our support, our shoulders to cry on and our shelter from these storms. The fight is here, I know it, I feel it. It is the fight that keeps me in this “game” and makes me understand how hard I have to take these beatings to fight to keep my kiddo happy and healthy despite her hurt or my hurt. It’s the pain after the arguments and screaming and crying that makes me get up and do just one more round. I always have one more round left in me. I found myself walking to the end of our acre, passed the fence line, to the very back and crying my eyes out. I turned around to look at this big, beautiful house and the 2 people left in it. I cried because it is now my responsibility to make sure this house, this dream house that Alan built, stays firm and lasts for these girls once I am gone. This was/is his legacy. Everything about it was what he dreamed and now I have to carry on that dream. It is hard and I sometimes feel like I am just one person, how can I do it. I pray a lot. God knows my heart and knows my pain more than anyone. I have moments of despair where I cry to God and ask him “WHY” and then I yell at Alan because he left me, because he left Lili. I get angry at myself for regrets and “what if’s” that I feel could have changed the course of our lives. All of it is pointless, really, because after I finish my crying and yelling, I look around and I am still in the same life God gave me and I have choices. Most of the choices are not fun to make alone, and some require a lot of work by me, but at least I have them, right? Alan did plan a head with many things in his life and the lives of our kids and for that, I am so grateful because things could always have been worse. God has recently put some good people in my life and Lili’s life that have made days brighter and given me hope. Some days I do feel like I take one step forward and 2 steps back, but I still keep going. Some days, like today, I do feel beat up like Rocky Balboa, LOL, but other days I feel like Conor McGregor, all mighty and strong, with a big chip on my shoulder after I kicked ass in the octagon. I will take the good with the bad and the days of anger and yelling because I know every days does end and another day will begin. I can’t take any day for granted, good or bad, because of how precious life really is. I am doing my best, despite how hard this really is, no real guidance or manual to tell me how to do it, just one step in front of the other. I’ll continue to keep an open mind and heart for what God has planned for me specifically and for Lili and I. I know some of the days ahead will be hard, because evil doesn’t sleep, but I just keep rolling with the punches and count my blessings. I thank God for the friends, new and old in our lives, making each day brighter with a sweet text or encouraging phone call. All that matters and you won’t ever really know how much I needed it in a time of despair. Come hell or high water, my heels are dug in for the fight.