Month: May 2011

  • Daddy’s Little Girl

    Daddy’s Little Girl

    Today is Sarah’s birthday. And yes, as the title says, she’s daddy’s little girl. My little princess. Always has been, always will be.

    She was born the day after our first wedding anniversary. In fact, we spent our first anniversary at the hospital. Debbie’s water broke early that morning, so we spent the entire day at the hospital waiting… and waiting… and waiting.

    Sarah refused to share her future birthday celebrations with our anniversary. So she didn’t come out until she could have a day of her own.

    On her first day Sarah was giving the world the raspberries.

    She’s been in command since day one.

    Can She Really Be Relate To Me?

    Sarah has always seemed to have a purpose. She’s known what she wanted to do and she planned her life to get to that goal.

    On her very first day of life in the outside world she was telling us all about it. Her English left a bit to be desired, but she was just jabbering up a storm.

    And giving the world the raspberries.

    I’ve always had this feeling that someone with a much higher pay grade than me, had plans for my little girl.

    Her focus and attention to details has always amazed me.

    I’ve often wondered how someone with such mastery of the details could really be related to me. That’s just the complete opposite to my chaotic, helter-skelter approach to life. My grade school teachers told my parents I was the absent-minded professor. I’m guessing she must have gotten it from her momma.

    Sarah’s Systems

    When she was moving away from home for the first time, to start school at Belmont University in Nashville, her grab-the-details-by-the-horns, get it done personality was on full display.

    Sarah had all her stuff neatly packed in identical boxes. Each was numbered. To round out this system, she had nice Excel spreadsheets to let her know just which numbered box to open to find what she was after at unpacking time.

    During her recent move from Texas to South Carolina, she refined this system to include color coding of the boxes.

    Our kids had to help with the household chores as they grew up with us. Sarah did the supper dishes. She’d get frustrated with Debbie and me when we’d take the dirty dishes from the table and just place them in any open spot on the countertop. She’d tell us we were, “Messing up my system!” Those dirty dishes had to be placed in just a certain spot on the counter, in the proper order.

    Sharing Her Special Day

    I’ve always been proud of “my favorite daughter.”

    But I also worry about her.

    All those years ago, when Debbie’s birthing parts were trying to squirt Sarah out into the world, she held on to Debbie’s insides with all her might, and refused to be ejected until she could have her own day. One she didn’t have to share with other family events.

    Richard and Sarah.
    I’m not sure which one did the makeup work here.

    But that’s changed now.

    On this day two years ago we had to call her with the news of her baby brother’s death.

    That was one hell of a birthday present there Richard.

    So now she’s always going to have that reminder on her birthday, that Richard is dead, and he won’t be eating anymore of her ice cream and cake.

    A Natural Born Big Sister

    Sarah took on the big sister role with total relish.

    She was intent on showing her little brother the ways of life and leading him along the proper path.

    At one point she tried to give him piano lessons. That turned out to be a frustrating experience for her. Richard wasn’t much of a sit still and practice kind of kid. I don’t remember him ever showing much interest in music.

    We live “in the country.” There aren’t a lot of houses close by. As a result, Richard and Sarah were playmates.

    They got along. Mostly.

    Certainly Sarah’s more serious nature, and her often bossy big sister approach, clashed with Richard’s laid back, goof off and have fun attitude (I’ve never doubted that Richard was my kid).

    It was pretty obvious that they loved one another.

    They were also classmates. Both Richard and Sarah were homeschooled until they got to high school.

    After Sarah reached driving age and got her license, she got to pick up the chore of taking her little brother to school and picking him up after classes every day.

    Typical Siblings

    In their teen years they were typical siblings. They loved one another, but also fought like cats and dogs at times.

    Richard was a guy.

    Can you tell they’re brother and sister?

    He went to an all male high school. He played sports. Guys like to tease their friends. Make fun of them, and try to have a good laugh at their expense. The trick is to not let it bother you. Just turn it around and tease back. It’s a give and take, back and forth way to have some fun and, while it often sounds mean spirited to many – mostly females – it’s how guys bond.

    And Richard liked to tease his big sister.

    Sarah would always try to play the game. She’d tease back at Richard. But Richard was a pro. He always had a comeback. And as the back and forth pokes progressed Sarah would end up getting her feelings hurt. And she’d get mad.

    This would usually end with Sarah stomping up the stairs, the slamming of her bedroom door providing the final exclamation point on the argument.

    Yet they loved one another.

    I know Richard looked up to his big sis. I think he admired her. She was a tough act to follow. But he didn’t want to let her know this.

    That would have changed with time. It was beginning to change already. But time ran out.

    Does she now feel bad about these teenage sibling battles with her little brother? I don’t know. We don’t talk about it. I don’t really know how to bring up the subject of her brother’s death, and how she’s dealing with it. Some of the books I’ve read have had accounts from siblings of a lost child. Many of them felt guilty about the arguments they’d had.

    I hope Sarah doesn’t feel that way. That’s just typical sibling behavior. She loved him and he loved her. Besides, Richard started most of it. He did like to aggravate.

    Celebration or Sadness?

    This has been an important day in our family for many years now.

    Sarah’s birth brought great changes for me. There was now another person, in another generation, that shared my genetic code. Wow.

    I got to experience that complete and total acceptance and love that a child has for their parents.

    My little girl took care of her daddy. Always available to put a band-aid on my cuts and scrapes, or to rub lotion on my feet when they were cracked and sore. She also provided a nicely itemized bill of services when my treatment was complete – very professional.

    She’s made me a better person. She’s a gift from God. Her birthday is a big deal for me. It’s a day for celebration.

    Now this date is also connected to the toughest thing I’ve ever had to deal with. This date is blasted into the granite marker at Richard’s grave.

    So I have a choice to make. Will this day be a time to celebrate my wonderful daughter, or will it be a time to mourn an unbearable loss?

    We didn’t ask for this situation. It was just thrust on us. How we deal with it is a choice.

    I’m intending to celebrate this day every year. We still have a life to live. I’m still grateful for the gift Sarah has been and continues to be. Letting sadness cloud that would be another tragedy.  Yep, it will be a challenge at times. But Richard’s death doesn’t change my love for Sarah. I owe it to her to honor her importance in my life.

    I’ll never forget what’s been lost, but I still have a lot.

    Happy Birthday sweet daughter. I love you.

  • Anniversaries and Such

    Anniversaries and Such

    Today Debbie and I have been married 28 years.

    I’ve now been married for half my life. No question, the married half has been better than the single half.

    I remember standing up there at the front of church, waiting for Debbie to make the trip down the aisle. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I was wrong. My knees were shaking. It may have been the most nervous I’ve been in my life… either half.

    I also remember those words, “For Better or for worse.” And that’s how it’s been.

    Mostly it’s been for better.

    But there have been the “for worse” times too. Richard’s death tops that list by a wide margin. I think having one another is how we’ve made it through this so far.

    This is also another anniversary of sorts. On this day two years ago, we had the last truly, completely happy day of our lives. The next day we found out Richard was dead.

    That’s how it is now, I mark time by “before Richard died” and “after Richard died.”

    And I hate that.

    This day is one of the best of my life. Conning Debbie into marrying me was the best thing I’ve ever done. She’s been a blessing every day since.

    So I don’t want this day associated with pain. This is a day I’ll always be grateful for and I’m going to keep that way.

    And for all you single parents that are dealing with child loss, all I can say is, “Wow, I’m so sorry.” That has to be so very tough to do. I can’t imagine not having Debbie to face this with. Having someone to lean on helps, but it still takes my breath away at times. Having to go this path on my own, alone, would just be unbearable.

    There’s been a lot in the news lately about high profile guys screwing up their marriage.  Very sad.

    Author Michael Hyatt has a blog post about protecting your marriage. It’s a good idea. You never know when your marriage may become your only ancor in a world gone out of control. He also explains how to become your spouse’s best friend.

  • Two Years

    Two Years

    It’s now May 23rd… two years from the day Richard died.

    Yeah, I know the “official” date is the 28th of May. But that wasn’t when he died, it’s when they found him in his apartment. In my heart I know he died on this day.

    We were at the farm that day. I remember sitting on the porch that evening looking up at the stars, and I was thinking of Richard. I looked out into the heavens and thought, “I hope you’re alright.” I had an uneasy feeling. Somehow I knew, though I wouldn’t understand that feeling for several more days.

    The intensity of the pain is just breath taking – even two years out.

    I miss you kid.

    This is one of your mom’s favorite pictures of you, so I put it up here today.

    Even with that damned Louisville hat on your head.

  • Grief Gut

    Grief Gut

    Let’s get one thing clear right at the start… that isn’t a picture 0f me.

    Most of the images used on this site came from my camera. But not that one. I bought that one. And I’ve never eaten more than half a pie at one time.

    Oh, and another thing. Debbie tells me she’s gained weight since Richard’s death too. I’ve never noticed. Nope. She still looks just the same to me. Being the sweet lady she is, I think she was just trying to make me feel better, because….

    I’ve gained weight since Richard died.

    Since my first days in college at the University of Kentucky, I’ve had trouble staying thin. My meal plan at the cafeteria let me have one helping of the main entre, and as much of everything else as I wanted. They had good french fries. I think I had about ten plates full a day. Loved those fries.

    I was also much less involved in sports. Not being on a team anymore, I no longer had a mandated training schedule.

    So I got fat.

    But a couple of years before Richard died I lost weight. They had a “Greatest Loser” contest at work, and I signed up.

    Losing the weight turned out to be pretty easy for me. I just changed the way I ate. What I call, “Eat Less, More Often.” Smaller meals but more of them. Healthy snacks like raw fruit and vegetables.

    And I kept the weight off after the contest ended. It was easy. So easy, I gave away all the clothes I had shrunk out of. I wasn’t looking back.

    And then the world turned upside down.

    Jon Gabriel is author of The Gabriel Method – The Revolutionary Diet-Free Way to Totally Transform Your Body. He’s a really smart guy, and he’s put a great deal of energy and research into finding a way to lose weight. He did it because he was huge, and probably not going to be around long if he didn’t shed some pounds. He lost over 220 pounds. That’s more than I weighed when Richard died.

    Gabriel attributes weight gain to mindset, mostly a response to stress.

    Having one of your children die causes stress. LOTS of stress.

    When I feel stress I like to nibble constantly. I’m always snacking. And when I’m stressed out, I can tell you, I don’t look for carrot sticks. I want something fast and easy. Something salty like chips. Or chocolate. Ice cream is nice too.

    I don’t do that so much now. I’ve tried to get back to eating like before. But so far I’m not getting the results I want.

    According to Gabriel, when our bodies react to stress, we store fat like crazy. Some primal force within us makes our metabolism slow down, and all the fat storage chemicals ramp up. Weight gain is a really stupid self defense strategy, but it’s what our bodies do.

    Most grieving parents probably don’t get a closet full of clothes when they lose their child. I did. I was wearing the same size clothes as Richard, so I inherited all his stuff. I wear  them often. Maybe gaining weight is my hearts way of telling me that it’s just wrong I have those clothes now and not him. Could my body be trying to force me out of his clothes in the hope he’ll come back and claim them?

    I’d be glad to eat a whole pie, with a carton of ice cream on top every day if that would work to bring him back.

  • Richards Tree

    Richards Tree

    We’ve seen a lot of ideas for creating memorials since we began this journey of dealing with Richards death. We’ve received many as gifts from people that cared about Richard and us.

    We get reminded of one every time we go to our church.  Last year a dogwood tree was planted on the church campus in memory of Richard.

    Right now that tree is bloomed out and beautiful. It’s still a small tree, but it’s showing off right now.

    Richard's dogwood showing off.
    Richard’s dogwood showing off.

    I appreciate this remembrance of our son. There is comfort in this enduring tribute. Knowing year after year this tree will decorate our little corner of the world with its flowery display. As it calls attention to itself, it will also remind all that see it of Richard’s existence on the earth.

    Memorial plaque for Richard.
    This memorial plaque is at the base of the tree.

    I can imagine many years from now, when we are gone too, people coming to church in the spring will come over to admire the beautiful dogwood blossoms.

    They’ll see the plaque and say, “Who was Richard Mudd?”

    He’ll be the mystery man.

    They’ll probably think he was a big donor to the church. Figure him for a big money, high roller kind of guy. Well, maybe he would have been someday.

    But they’ll have something to think about, and Richard will be remembered for many years – even by people that will never know him.

    If your looking for a lasting memorial as a tribute to a lost loved one, or as a gift to the bereaved, you should consider a nice flowering tree.