A Little Lost, but Hoping To Be Found

Fracture
*This site is monetized. Any links in this post are likely to be affiliates.

_MG_0758The past 4-5 months have been a weird sort of crazy busy, mentally wiped, not-really-busy-but-can’t-function sort of time.  I got a job last year, and started working far more hours than I was hired for and my brain forgot how to function, I think. Or I just needed to focus on words. Or I focused too much on words. It’s hard to say.

I have so much to cover, and I’m trying to organize the words for full fledged blog posts, trying to wrap my mind around how to write a blog post again instead of a book. I’m trying to figure out how to expound on my world and the crazy, amazing, chaotic developments in our little corner of the universe, instead of building new worlds and characters and telling their story.

I want to resume telling my story again (while still telling theirs, of course, because I will likely never cease writing).

While I work on composing the words, here’s a few brief updates, destined to be turned into posts of their own eventually.

  1. We went to Disney World this year. This will require several posts, including one about Make-A-Wish and the true magic they created.
  2. I wrote over 500,000 words last year.
  3. Published 8 books.
  4. Contracted 7 more (& have 3 more in edits for Indie publishing later this year)
  5. I started working again, for real this time. After a few brief stints over the past 5 years, I’ve been at this job 7 months now. It’s the job I said I’d never go back to, and I’m still not sure how I feel about it.
  6. The kids are now almost-17 (3 days!), almost-10, and almost-9.  Holy crap, how did that happen?
  7. Molly’s behavior has improved (thanks to a little help) vastly. Her school year this year has been so different, I’m the happiest I’ve been in a while w/ the school district.
  8. My brother got diagnosed w/ Parkinson’s (an early diagnosis thanks to early recognition of the symptoms based on our dad’s symptoms).
  9. My husband had surgery last month.
  10. We have a Monster High obsession going on around these parts (and it’s not just K)
  11. Our rescue dog has been with us almost a year now. I still don’t know how we lived without her stinky, strange, sweet, not-listening, mama’s-girl butt.
  12. K & I have started to read through the Harry Potter series together. It’s so much fun to share so much with one of my girls.
  13. I’m sort of turning into a planner fiend. Here’s hoping that helps with my whole “get back into blogging” plan.
  14. I’m trying some “30 days of”. Don’t plan on posting about them until I actually succeed (or get close to succeeding) in completing one.  I’m hoping I can do anything for 30 days. I’m doing one of the toughest ones first. If I can manage to succeed in this, I know I can do anything.

There is so much more, and I have wonderful lists full of posts to create. I only need to get myself into focus to create them. I think my brain needs the release of getting these things out in the open. Maybe then I’ll start to feel like my brain is back on planet Earth.

Now, if only I could find those elusive extra hours in the day to accomplish everything I need to in every day.


by Sarah Cass

Multi-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.


18 years

Fracture
*This site is monetized. Any links in this post are likely to be affiliates.
I posted this last year and the year before at this time. I’m re-posting it. I will always repost it every year at this time…
 
I know what today is. I know what it means to our country. I remember every detail of 2001 in vivid detail…but since before 2001, this date has been difficult for me, for my family…in 1996 my family’s core was lost, the heart of us…my grandfather…so my post on 9/11 is for him. Oh, and at surface glance I hate this picture of me, but then I see the pure joy on my face dancing with my grandfather and aesthetics be damned, it’s my favorite picture. 

grampa

It was his birthday.

I was about four years old, and a very short kid…and he was TALL.

I remember standing by as he put our coats in the closet. I leaned my head way back to stare up, up, up at him and asked, “How tall are you?” With his sparkling eyes and laugh he informed me that he was over 6′. My eyes grew wide, and all I could say was, “But you’re so close to the ceiling! If you have ANY more birthdays you’ll go right through!”

His chair sat by the front door and the minute he sat the race was on – who would get the privilege of sitting on his lap, carrying on as deep a conversation as a child was capable of? Who would get to play with his round pot belly, and listen to his laughter?

He worked for GM and he was proud of it, and so were we.

When I close my eyes I can still smell his pipe and see the pipe carousel on his dresser. I can smell the cigarettes that he and grandma smoked.

I remember that after he retired he would watch soap operas during lunch.

And I remember the weddings – when my cousin and I would trade off and share him for the dance. “Grampa” by the Judds.

I remember his smile.

I remember his belly.

I remember the strength that he always carried in his soul and body.

I remember the pain that shot through my heart at the word…”cancer”. Once it was uttered it was less than a year. 10 months.

I remember the first time I saw him in the hospital-and how I had to run from the room because it made me physically ill to see my big strong grandfather lying in a bed weak and hooked up to tubes.

I remember his fight.

I remember when it was acknowledged in our hearts that the time to fight was over.

I remember how he held on – hours past when we thought we would lose him – because he would not let go until he’d gotten to hear the good-bye of all of his grandchildren, and my brother had been in surgery for a shattered wrist around the world in Japan. Half an hour after the final phone call, Grampa was gone.

I remember the sound of the tennis balls scattering across the hallway when my professor’s assistant walked up asking if she knew where I was…and all I could do was run to my car to get home as soon as I could.

From there it’s a blur…a long car ride from NC to NY. The arrangements. The funeral home. The droves of people I didn’t know, but who all knew him, overflowing the room.

The pain has lessened, resorted to a memory. For the most part I remember the love, the good things, the joy. But on this day every year the pain comes back to the forefront.

The pain seems so much stronger now that Grandma has gone to join him.

Refreshed and renewed now, they are together forever, but they will always be here in our hearts.

We love you still, and will always love you, Grampa.


by Sarah Cass

Multi-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.


The Destructo Duo

Fracture
*This site is monetized. Any links in this post are likely to be affiliates.

Once upon a time I would explain it away.

“Ones a sensory seeker…”

of course…

“Well she’s just egging on her sister to get her in trouble.”

Then again…

“She knows it’s wrong and does it anyway.”

I think Erik would be happy if I just faced facts…

destructoThese two would be best known as “The Destructo Duo”.

No matter the toy…

The book…

The bed…

Whether they love it like no other…

Or could care less…

Whether it’s theirs…

Or ours…

Or something as old as myself that has stood the test of time…

They break it.

We’ve tried everything to curb the habit.

Threats.

Cajoling.

Pleading.

Nothing seems to work.

My Barbies? Lasted for twenty years until I gave them up thinking I’d not have any girls (oops).

Theirs?  We’ve lost 2 to beheading’s, 4 to lost limbs, and 2 to horrifying hair situations.

The Monster High dolls are a blessing because they separate, but go back together easily.

Toys I grew up with that made it through me, and then Denver…now long gone because they weren’t spared the wrath of the crazies.

We just don’t know what to do anymore.

I’d hoped it would get better as they’ve aged…and in some ways it has.

Books are a little more cared for now.

I guess I should be happy for that battle won…

Maybe I will be…

At least until I find the next beheaded Barbie.

*~*

Any tips on curbing the destruction? I’m out of ideas. Yes, they share a room. No, there is NO hope for a playroom. TINY house, lots of people…we make do with what we’ve got.


by Sarah Cass

Multi-published author. Mom of 3 special needs kids. Wife to 1 good man.
Redefining Perfect every day.