On Vulnerability

December 20, 2022 / Jessica / 18 Comments

Nine Christmas Eve’s ago, my cousin’s mom suddenly passed away, leaving us all shocked and devastated. In the nine years since, I have paid attention to how she has navigated the loss of her beloved momma.

Although I didn’t quite understand her loss, I tried to be there for her. One thing that I noticed was that she didn’t stuff the loss down to deal with it later. In my eyes, she bravely stepped right into the loss of “holy sh*t, I’ve lost my mom, what am I going to do?”

I don’t know about you, but when a friend or relative loses their mom/ parent, I pay attention. There are lessons that live in someone else’s experiences. I hadn’t been IN her shoes, but when she talked about her days that came with her loss, I listened.

I still do.

A couple weeks ago, she said something monumental to me. It was about her view of grief. She’s nine years in, to mom loss.

I’m nine months in.

Her words were soothing and healing, instantly.

INSTANTLY

I’ve tried to write about it for two weeks. I’ve typed, backspaced, typed, backspaced. Words jumbled up. Couldn’t get them out in the way that I wanted.

Why?

Well, not everyone understands the roads we are on.

Some do. But, everyone?

No, not really.

Writing about loss and vulnerability is sooooooooooo hard. It’s somewhat edgy. Talk about it a little and it’s acceptable. Talk about it a lot and it’s ‘you’re grieving too much.’

Vulnerability is like a coat that nobody wants to put on. A hundred and fifty degrees below zero and there’s a coat of vulnerability laying there? Forget it, I’ll freeze.

With vulnerabilities come shame. Being nine months into mom/parent loss, I can see why people don’t talk about losses.

Grief isn’t discussed much. Sure, people throw out lines of “take your time”, “everyone grieves in their own way”, “deal with it however you need to’ while at the same moment, there seems to be an invisible time limit on when someone’s grief is enough and they should just move on or that there’s some particular way to get through it.

Twice this week, I’ve felt judged about my mom loss. That I’m not doing it right or I’m taking too long. If I just move on, my holidays won’t be hard.

Grief with stipulations…

Writing about the last nine months has been a gift, a privilege, and a heartache all at once. I write because I know that I am not the only one dealing with loss.

My hope is that if someone somewhere reads my words, that maybe they’ll find a smidgen of comfort or something that makes them feel a tiny bit better.

You know?

Loss with stipulations?

It does not work for someone like me, who is in it.

Stipulations only add to an already overflowing plate.

And, hey, I get it.

People mean well. Nobody wants anybody to be sad. I’ve said similar things to people myself to try to help them feel better fast.

Now I see that it really doesn’t work. It probably just pushed them away…

Yesterday, I cried most of the day over feeling like my grief is taking too long and that I’m not doing it right,

Most. Of. The. Day.

It was prompted by the phrase: ‘ohhhhhhh, you’re not doing very well, are you?’

Ouch.

Very well compared to what? That started kicking up self doubt like you wouldn’t believe.

What I’m getting at here, is that being open about how momma loss feels is super tricky. Do I have to talk about it? Not really. Would grieving quietly be better? Safer? Perhaps.

Hmm… trade vulnerability for quiet healing?

Maybe I should…

On the other hand, look at this space that sharing my journey has created here!!!

It includes things like:

being able to share similar stories
real honest to goodness compassion showing up
a place to talk about sad days, sudden tears, and hard moments
connecting to others who are in loss too
learning from each other
stumbling around in how to write after being so open
being transparent and being met with kindness and support
opening doors to conversations about parent loss
peeling off layers of crusted up, protective hearts (including mine) to let some things out and in
lessons shared
hugs sent
tossing old stories of time schedules in grief to the curb
opening the heart for new ideas instead

I think I’ll just stick to what I’ve been doing. Sharing. Because if I cry for a day, I cry for a day. The best I can tell, putting myself out there is making me stronger, too.

Thanks for being here and for reading.

Big hugs,

Jessica

Her Holiday

December 18, 2022 / Jessica / 18 Comments

A couple of months ago I wrote a post about how I’ve got nothin’.

To write, that is.

Same today.

I know you all know that I had a catastrophic momma loss this year and have literally been one-step-at-a-timing through the days. I’ve gotta tell ya, this first Christmas season without her is rough.

I’m going to try something new: write a poem right this second and see if any words accumulate on the page. If not, this goes to Drafts. If so, we’ll see what it says.

Here goes:

Her Holiday by Jessica 12/18/22

‘Saturdays tick by

the calendar pages flipping so quickly that my eyes can barely keep up.

I saw her in March

it’s now December.

The wind blows days around like glittered snow in the afternoon sun, beautiful but fleeting.

Christmas approaches without her

heart aches

tears run

missing her like crazy.

She LOVED Christmas

had boxes of decorations, a brilliant tree, lights on outside things.

She adored Christmas shopping

the hand picking out of gifts for those she loved

even when a walker had to accompany her to the stores

nothing stood in her way at Christmas.

Seven days

is all that stands between

me and my first Christmas without her.

Ouch how that hurts.

Surreal

but real.

I told her we’d miss her every day

I was correct

we do.‘

Hmm…

I find myself asking ‘who will read such a thing?’

I mean, sadness at Christmas? Come on!

Part of me wants to backspace it out like I’ve done on every post I’ve tried to write since the 9th.

Maybe this time I won’t. Maybe ‘poem right this second’ worked. Maybe my writing is unblocked. ❤️ Now that would be something!

Thank for reading.

Jessica

*an ornament my momma decorated my house with once*

Birthday Love

December 9, 2022 / Jessica / 29 Comments

Well, there’s about fifteen minutes left of this first birthday without my momma. It was a spotty-teary-day, with the biggest amount that came this morning.

This afternoon, we shopped for bowling shoes. Found a pair and two bowling ball bags, so that was nice. We had our Birthday Bowl-a-thon at two different bowling alleys. It was very fun.

Birthday dinner took us back to the restaurant I wrote about a couple of times in the past several months. One post was about crying at the table. The other was about crying and smiling when a Stevie Nicks song came on while there.

Tonight I did quite well at our table. That is, until an old beloved Christmas hymn came over the speakers.

The part of a song that got me all choked up this time?

“Sleep in heavenly peace.”

Cue the waterworks…

Gratitude of my day of birth:

that I had a momma who loved me
that even though today was hard, I made it
being with my son and husband
hearing from my dad and siblings
getting texts from friends
two delicious meals out in one day
candles, cupcakes, and party decor
nice people who bowled next to us
the five friends who remembered me on social media today
the pre-birthday blogging wishes I got- thank you
I appreciate all the birthday love

Thank you for reading.

Jessica

In My Heart This Birthday

December 3, 2022 / Jessica / 20 Comments

All the nostalgia of Iowa (my momma was born in a farmhouse near Ricketts, Iowa) and the date on the calendar have me thinking about a few things.

It’s now December and my birthday is approaching quickly. Since my momma passed at the end of March 2022, I have been pretty sad over my upcoming birthday.

Why?

The day itself has some big meanings.

She and dad were high school sweethearts. After dad graduated, he and his twin brother went to Texas on football scholarships. After she graduated the next year, her and her best friend hopped a bus to Colorado, got apartments, jobs, and stayed.

True love won out. A year later and my parents reunited in Iowa. One time she told me that at that time, they really wanted a baby. They got married and the baby came.

Guess who that was…

Me!

In December, the year they were wed, I made my appearance in an Iowa hospital. Mom used to tell the story about my name. They didn’t have a name picked out quite yet. Then, they chose Jessica and a nurse named Jessica thought it was after her.

Is that sweet or what?

Fast forward to my husband and I. Finally, after 5 years of infertility and baby loss, I was able to get and stay pregnant. My miracle baby was born a month early.

You’ll never believe what day it was!

My birthday!!!

I had been on bedrest for weeks and guess who came to take care of me so my husband could work?

My momma.

Her and dad were at the hospital when I was almost lost to high blood pressure and pre-eclampsia. They sat in the waiting room with my husband, thinking I wasn’t going to make it, while I had an emergency c-section. And, they welcomed our beautiful baby an hour later.

And, do you know what my momma did? She showed up with a gorgeous chocolate birthday cake that the bakery made out to me and baby!

After a week in the hospital because of complications for me, we were finally released. I have never been so happy to go home. When we got there, she had the front porch all decorated up with ‘Welcome Home’ signs and a big teddy bear in the outside rocking chair.

She stayed and took care of us for two weeks. She did the meals, laundry, walked the dogs, and loved on the baby.

She rocked him in the recliner, danced with him to James Taylor in the living room, and even gave him his first bath. They were instantly bonded.

She spoiled us and we saw her during a bunch during the year/ years, but she showed up especially strong on our birthdays.We’d always get a birthday box in the mail from her and dad.

Last year she asked me what was something I needed for the kitchen that he and I could use together. I suggested mixing bowls and measuring cups. A set of beautiful Pioneer Woman mixing bowls and some measuring cups showed up at our door.

So…………….. I’ve been crying and sad for months over a birthday that hasn’t even happened yet because a big part of it is gone: she’s gone.

Her asking is gone. Her sending is gone. Her celebrating is gone. Ouch, that’s a bit hard to handle.

But, you know what?

A few nights I had this huge revelation:

Yes, the days of her sending us gifts are done, but, what if I got us gifts in honor of her? Like what if I picked out something to add to things she’s gotten us?

Because, here’s the thing. Trying to get through mom/ parent loss has a learning curve that you wouldn’t believe. (Unless you’ve been through it.) Mostly, it’s the ‘how’ in figuring out how to go on without them.

First holidays, regular days, birthdays, and just days in general can feel like huge mountains. And, quite honestly, they can feel a bit impossible. Back in March, I never thought I could do my birthday without my momma, but here I am putting one foot in front of the other.

Would my momma want us sad on our upcoming birthday, a day that meant so much to her and us?

Absolutely not.

She’d want us celebrating.

So, I ordered myself some Pioneer Woman measuring cups and bowls I think she’d like. and we’re also going out of town for the night for something fun to do.

In five days, probably through tears, I am going to celebrate two babies who were wanted so much, me and my son. She may not be here, but she’s definitely going to be in my heart this birthday.

Appreciate you reading.

Jessica Lyn

(I was named Lynn, after my dad’s twin brother. But, they changed my Lyn to one n.)

Some Laughs and More Tears

November 25, 2022 / Jessica / 8 Comments

Grateful for:

siblings
my dad
nieces and nephews
my husband and son
an Iowa farm
a giant meal
2 fuzzy dogs
a crumb patrolling cat
a giant hike
a chit chat next to a tree, under a sky of blue
music on a hill
tears that streamed several times
memories of days gone by
my momma’s carrot cake and jello dessert
feathers
geese calling
a sunset that spilled across the horizon like berries that tumble from a too full bowl
2 friends reached out even hundreds of miles away
more tears
some laughs
some stories
more tears
hugs goodbye
gratitude expressed
more tears
more tears
more tears

The first Thanksgiving without my momma was exactly that: without my momma. I missed her like crazy. One big holiday down, in this year of firsts. My birthday and Christmas are left.

To those who offered kind words, thoughts, and hugs, I thank you.

Jessica

Distractions

November 22, 2022November 22, 2022 / Jessica / 12 Comments

Sometimes distractions are a good thing. Since losing my momma this spring, the upcoming holidays have been like this flashing, looming billboard, off in the distance, but somewhat visible. It says:

“Hey you, in case you forget, Thanksgiving, your birthday, and Christmas 2022 will be without your momma.”

Perhaps it’s because everyone says all the firsts of the first year after loss are the hardest. I’m not sure who made that up, but so far it’s been spot on. So, for months, I’ve been sad over holidays that haven’t even happened yet. I doubt I’m the only one.

Remember that song- ‘Over the river and through the woods to grandmother’s house we go?’ I was thinking about it this morning.

If you’ve lost your grandparents like I have, hearing that song brings memories of childhood trips. I was in my 20’s when my first grandma passed and my 40’s when my second one passed.

My kiddo didn’t get a lot of years with his grandma (my momma) like I did with my grandmas. This will be his first Thanksgiving, birthday, and Christmas without her, too.

Distractions lately have been good. Clubs, bowling, art, new booth. Now here it is, two days before Thanksgiving. It’s a bit surreal, really.

In the beginning, people always said to me, “I can’t imagine” as in what it’s like to lose their mom. Sometimes, my big sister-ness in me wants to protect people from what it feels like because it is flat out heartache.

Other times I feel called to say what it’s like, because sometimes we don’t see the loss coming and sometimes they’re too young and sometimes we are not prepared and sometimes the shock stays around a long time and sometimes there are no manuals for this.

This Saturday, November 26, it will be 8 months since my momma passed away. My how I miss her every single day. The shock that it happened, comes and goes, and I still catch my breath when I realize she’s gone. Crying has lessened a bit, but it still happens a lot of days.

We’re going ‘over the river and through the woods’ on an 8 hour drive to have Thanksgiving with my dad and siblings. It’s going to be really hard to not hear my momma’s whistling and laughter that filled up 3 counties. She so loved the holidays.

If you are in similar shoes this holiday season, my heart goes out to you. Truly.

Distractions are good… until having to face what we don’t want to see. I may cry the entire meal on Thursday. And, that’s ok. She knew I was a heart on my sleeve cry baby and if it were somebody else’s empty seat, she would’ve handed me a Kleenex.

Hugs, if your holidays look or feel different, too.

Jessica

Saying No Then Yes

November 15, 2022November 15, 2022 / Jessica / 21 Comments

For weeks, I’ve been trying to decide if I should do the Christmas craft show at a local church. Last year, I was sooooo excited to do it.

This year, something has been making me hesitate. I could not put my finger on it, but it was enough to make me want to pause.

So, just now, I made a decision.

Will I do the Christmas craft show????

No.

Why?

Well, I just saw a post on FB by a fellow artist who was invited to set up her booth/table in a memory care type home. RIGHT when I saw that, I KNEW what I’m supposed to do!!!

I’m going to skip making a bunch of stuff to try and sell and instead, make them as gifts for my Aunt Esther and her friends at her assisted living home in Iowa.

She’s 103 and spent her life making and giving gifts to others. So, I’m going to do this for her.

Honestly, with this being the first holiday season without my momma, I’ve been pretty sad about the upcoming holidays. But, this idea? It brings joy to my heart.

Gratitude:

gift giving
my Aunt Esther who will never expect a box full of gifts for her and all her resident friends
my momma who loved the holiday seasons

So, I’m going to use these:

Plus these:

Plus these:

All of those together will make some fun and unique gifts.

I think my momma would be pleased. She did like craft shows, of course, but she worked as a charge nurse in a nursing home for ten years. Her heart was with the elderly.

So here’s to saying no, then yes!!!

I’m going to start creating today!

Thanks for reading!

Jessica

A Leap for Art

November 14, 2022 / Jessica / 30 Comments

Today I took an art plunge. I set up my stuff in a local resale shop. I’ve never done anything like that before, so I was a bit nervous.

As soon as I started filling the shelves, I about fell over! One of my momma’s most favorite songs came on the radio in there! Followed by another one and another one. So, my gratitude today is about my momma and her love for music and that I’m proud of myself for not quitting art.

Gratitude:

CCR’s “Who’ll Stop the Rain”
The Police’s “Every Breath You Take”
CCR’s “Suzy Q”
me, taking a leap for art

*my booth filled up and welcome note from the shop owner*

It felt good to actually get it set up. To give my art and myself a chance. Will it be successful? Already is, it’s out there. It never even would’ve been seen in my basement. So, that feels like a win.

Thanks for being here and for all the kind comments yesterday. Means a lot!

Jessica

Gutters and Art

November 13, 2022 / Jessica / 16 Comments

Gratitude:

rethinking things
trusting myself
taking a leap when what I really want to do is run
encourage-rs who have my back
sticking things out, even when it’s hard
trusting myself some more

I’ve almost quit two things recently. Art and bowling.

Seriously. Twice at the bowling alley, I have said out loud, “I am going to quit!” The first time was a Saturday night when my son, husband, and I were practicing. I could not get anything right!

Gutter. Gutter. Gutter.

So frustrating.

Gutter. Gutter. Gutter.

The second time at bowling was sooooo embarrassing. I’d been practicing with my son’s ball and the finger and thumb holes are smaller. So, I get up there on my first throw of the night, brought my ball back and…

Dropped it.

As in backwards.

I heard someone say, “Oh Jessi” in a sort of ‘what in the world are you doing’ tone, then I turned around to see all these really great bowlers staring at me.

I could’ve crawled into a hole.

I almost walked out.

I mean, come on! I dropped the ball. I’ve gotten LAST place 25 out of 27 games. Everyone there knows I’m new. Hello. I’m sick of being last.

Enter art. I LOVE art. I make some pretty cool and unique things with vintage jewelry, but lately trying to figure out what to do with it after I make it has been wearing me out.

There are so many options and weighing the choices is simply exhausting. On top of of that, I’ve been trying to find my value in a world already jam packed with art.

Eeks.

All of that has got me to thinking about my momma and her art. She was an amazing artist. She never sold any of it, but she blissfully kept on creating it. I’ve been trying to figure out if that is my fate and purpose too, or if my pieces are meant to be with someone else.

Yesterday, I made a choice. I chose. I decided. That ever happen to you? Where simply deciding brings such peace and a joy that springs forth like a bloom?

With my art, I’m going to try something new. A new place, just to see how it goes.

I decided I’m not going to give up on bowling either! In fact, I got a new ball. I’ve been practicing my steps at home and in the yard and I’m going to work with a coach this week.

All those gutters and that dropped ball aside, I am getting better. My scores were in the 50’s, now they’re around 100. In only 9 weeks. Pretty darn good, even with the embarrassing ball drop.

My hunch is that losing my momma this year is at the root of all this indecision. Grief can really seem to pour on the doubt. But, I think my momma would be pulling for me in both bowling and art.

With that in mind, I believe I’ll keep right on going. Perhaps my art will find some homes and maybe I’ll even turn that lowest score of 25 out of 27 games into the highest score in 25 out of 27 games.

Anything is possible.

If you’d like to read my art post it’s called “I’m Going For It” and it’s on https://jeweledagainbyjessica.com.

Thanks for reading!

Jessica

The Bookcase

November 5, 2022 / Jessica / 16 Comments

Gratitude:

a warm day
working outside
reflections on the window
my parents’ old bookcase they gave me long ago
unboxing wonderful things

I’m standing in my dining room, looking out the window. It’s night and the way the kitchen light is angled, I can see things on the counter, even with my back to the kitchen. The cookie jar, bananas, apples, and chicken art are visible from here.

This afternoon, the front porch rails, bannisters, and I became friends. Some green muck tends to grow on them, creating layers of crusty looking junk. It may be caused by summer’s humidity, I suppose. Well, after walking by them for about the billionth time, I went inside and got a sponge.

An hour later, I had done some good work. My friend tells me that her gramma had a saying about work, that hard work is good work.

It sure is.

My other bit of good, hard work came from me moving a big, wooden bookcase from the garage to the dining room. It took up residence in the garage after we unloaded it from the moving truck four years ago. For whatever reason, it stayed there.

But, suddenly, in April, I wanted it in here! My momma passed away out of the blue on the last Sunday in March. I wanted it in here so I could see it every day and fill it with all the things she’s given me and my collectibles through the years.

That was seven months ago and never got moved inside…

Until now.

My momma was a “get things done-er.” My dad worked a lot of hours supporting a family of six, so if she wanted/needed things done, She did it. If she didn’t know how, she learned.

Ditto.

Like my dad, my husband works a lot of hours supporting our family of three. I could’ve waited until he got home, but I thought I could do it myself.

I didn’t quite know how to get the bookcase in the house, so I just started. With a little ingenuity and some luck, that beautiful treasure holder is now in my dining room.

I spent the evening unpacking glassware, vases, Depression glass, leaves and acorns my boy gave me when he was five, and gifts from my momma.

Those things?

They’ve been packed up in tubs for four years, too.

What a joy it is to see them again.

Thanks for being here.

Jessica

Reflections

November 4, 2022 / Jessica / 19 Comments

My 22 day miracles and gratitude challenge ended yesterday. It was a bit all over the place, emotion wise. Loss does that. It seems to step in, sometimes, on a perfectly sunny day, scooting over on the bench next to us.

For a couple of months, I’ve actually felt kind of bad for ‘subjecting’ readers to my going on and on about how badly I miss my momma. “Who still wants to hear about this?” I thought.

I mean, it’s been 6-7 months, shouldn’t the grief be all tidied up by now? Swept up and let go like dust on the wind?

I’m not trying to rush myself through parent loss by any means. I’m trying to survive it and get through it with baby steps and grace. But, I kept thinking about the sharing it part…

Then, about a week ago, while on social media, I did a grief search. Turns out there are tons of pages about loss and grief with thousands and thousands of followers. It reaffirmed that talking about losing my momma is ok.

Does it help me? Yes.

Could it help someone else? Maybe.

My cousin sent me a poem called, “Don’t Miss Me More Than Once A Day,” by Donna Ashworth. It’s a wonderful poem and I was instantly hooked on her writing.

The author has a FB page and lately she’s been sharing about mother loss. Talk about resonating. It seems like when someone gets it, they get it.

Anyway, what I’m learning is, this loss isn’t just some separate thing I can just shut off and send down the road. This experience is part of who I am now. Has it changed me? Oh my, yes. Have I figured out all the ways yet? No, not really.

I’m still getting through the “I can’t believes”, “I miss…”, and “what in the world happeneds.” It’s like when you drop a photo album with a thousand pictures in it and they all fall out in heaps on the floor. It’s the sifting and putting them back in some sort of order, but there’s no sense to where they go.

Maybe, eventually, I’ll get this all figured out. Maybe I won’t. What I’m realizing now, 7 months into this, is that talking about it or sharing this is appropriate whenever it comes up. People went before me in mom loss and people will come after me, too. We can all learn something from each other, I bet.

Instead of a daily challenge now, I’m just going to write and share adventures. Even if and when those adventures are about my beautiful momma.

Thanks for reading!

Jessica

Seven Months

October 26, 2022October 26, 2022 / Jessica / 19 Comments

Somehow I’ve made it seven months without my momma. I have gratitude for my faith, my family, and my friends. And, the miracle is and was my momma.

I wrote a poem today. I don’t write poems often, but it feels right today.

“How I Miss Her So” by Jessica Adam

Seven months ago today

I spent the day with my momma

Twelve whole hours with her

at home.

Time since then

has been like a magician’s hat,

some days disappearing monumentally fast,

some days so still they

wouldn’t budge.

The shock of loss is still intense,

appropriate, I suppose.

I had her for 50 years.

I miss her texts with pictures of her pets,

her asking for pictures of my son,

and her whistle.

She was always whistling.

Can’t believe it’s been seven months

since I held her hand

and kissed her cheek.

My, how I miss her so…

I know I’ve told you a million and one times that parent loss is extremely hard. It shakes the leaves and rattles the roots. The amount of tears that have fallen feel like infinity plus ten, plus a hundred, plus a thousand.

Though not endless.

Yesterday I didn’t cry. Today I am.

I wonder how this will feel seven months from now and seven months after that. The same, I suppose.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of how quickly she was gone. Or how sick she got so fast. I’m guessing that will never ever ever make sense.

But, my hope is, that by writing this, when I reread it a year or five from now, that I will SEE the strength I had.

Strength is so fleeting in this. Some days it feels nonexistent. Others days, I feel solid enough to listen to other people talk about their losses.

It has truly been a ‘raw, emotional, learning, hard, heartbreaking, sad, love filled, people-have-shown-up-for-me, I can’t believe I’m doing this’ kind of seven months.

If you are going through a loss of your own, as always, my heart goes out to you.

Thanks for being here.

P.S. I just went outside to take these pictures and saw three deer in our freshly cut back field. Miracles.

Jessica

** photographs taken by me

Unmeasured Journeys

life without limits, life unmeasured

My Momma

On Vulnerability

Her Holiday

Birthday Love

In My Heart This Birthday

Some Laughs and More Tears

Distractions

Saying No Then Yes

A Leap for Art

Gutters and Art

The Bookcase

Reflections

Seven Months