(Regards to picture at left) . . . I have to say, really, that half of those are root beer bottles. Yes, the other half are beer bottles. DH and I are finding a beer in the evening takes the edge off. I don't consider myself a drinker, but after losing our baby, well, it relaxes me at night. Not every night, just nights of trying days. We've had some this week.
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DH's uncle died Thursday evening. As I was writing my first post, probably. He was a very smart man, crotchety and opinionated in his old age (who isn't?), a doctor for a profession. DH and his brothers and sisters went to Dr. W as children and youth, and played with his children, their cousins. The huge family is less one more member now, and that's sad. The rosary is on Monday, and the actual funeral on Tuesday. I probably will not go to either because DH is leaving for business for two weeks and I will have no one to watch DS and DD. (I don't want to take them.) DH said probably, given everything that's happened to us in the past month, he wouldn't have gone even if he was going to be home. We're just sick of being sad and crying; for sure there will be plenty of that there.
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For those of you who are Mac users, of which I am! (proudly), you may use iWeb, which is a handy program for creating one's own website. I have created one for our family. Unfortunately, I don't post to my family blog there as often as I'd like, but I do post big things, and this has been a big week for us. DS promoted from kindergarten and we celebrated DS and DD's birthdays last weekend. I also recently put up a slide show and write up about a quick day trip our family made to Legoland. As I was going through and updating our site with pictures and blog commentaries, I happened upon one I forgot I made: "Baby No. 3 is on the way" and it shocked me when I saw it. I didn't know what to do with it. I left it up there, posted all the new stuff I wanted to publish, and then left the computer to go upstairs and take a nap. I just took it down before continuing this blog; I don't want to dishonor Michael, but seeing it up there is too painful for me to deal with--because he's not on the way anymore. Under the "Our Family" section, I did leave a picture of an angel and wrote "Michael, angel" under the names of our other two children.
I have read on other blogs and postings how other women deal with the question, "And how many children do you have?" How do I answer that now? I like the feisty ones who say, "I have two living children" to intrusive, bitchy askers (kind and friendly women I would never say that to) and just let the implication of what they've said hang in the air. I'll keep that in mind when I encounter nasty, thoughtless people. I guess I've been considering myself a mom of three, it's just that one of them was born an angel instead of to me on earth.
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I went to mass this morning. Since I have been home on disability and emotionally healing more than physically healing, one of the things I've incorporated into my routine to keep me busy is nearly daily attendance at mass. Catholics have the luxury of attending church every day if they want -- not just Sundays and a bible study during the week -- but actual church every day, and I've been doing that. I start off the morning by making the kids' lunches, take dear daughter to school, do an errand or two (or none, just going to Starbucks and working on crosswords) before heading over to the 8:30 service. Because our week was so busy this week, I didn't get to go any day Monday through Friday, so I resumed today. All the "regulars" I've come to recognize through my own attendance were there, and a few more, possibly because it is a weekend day.
In case you're wondering, yes, I am Catholic, and I did have a (medical) termination of a pregnancy. And I haven't had any problems returning to church. I did perhaps, the first mass back -- wondered if I should go to perform the Sacrament of Reconciliation first (confession) -- but I see the church as there to give me strength, and so I go there to get it. I have confessed privately to God, and God knows my pain . . . whether or not I will "confess" to a priest, I don't know. I don't feel the need to, as I've had these conversations with God already and each mass starts off with a request from God anyway to forgive us of our sins.
I guess you could call me "pick-and-choose" Catholic, and I suppose I am this way because I was not raised in the church. I joined when I married DH eight years ago, and I did it because I wanted any future children of ours to have one faith to follow rather than try to wonder what they should be -- "Gee, dad is Catholic and mom is . . . spiritual, so, um, . . ." So I don't have a lot of qualms about not following the dictates of the church to a T.
More on that later . . . we're getting ready to go out to Father's Day dinner.
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