Tomorrow Is Not Promised

My post today really has nothing to do with weight loss. I guess I just need to talk to someone–anyone–before I go on an eating binge triggered by stress and sadness. I need someone to listen to me as we walk along the path to weight loss.

Yesterday, I found out my first father-in-law, and my daughter’s favorite grandparent, passed away. I broke down in tears, and I worried about how to break the news to my six-year-old. I did when anyone finding herself in an unknown situation would do: I called home. My mom advised me to tell Leda that her “abuelito” was in Heaven with Holly and Misty, two dogs that have gone on, too.

Jude and I drove straight to my ex’s house. I hugged the father of my child and whispered in his ear, “How do we tell our daughter her grandpa’s dead?” Leda walked up behind us. I didn’t want to be completely broken in front of her, so I composed myself before giving her a morning hug.

We sat her on the sofa and broke the news to her. She cried, then asked to be left alone. A few minutes later, she came out of her room and asked to visit my parents.

I know she doesn’t want to face reality right now. I know that, in time, she’ll catch herself in moments where she wants to visit her abuelito and talk to him and walk with him, but she can’t. And my heart breaks for her.

Thanks for listening. These past two days, I’ve found myself eating and not feeling full. Yesterday afternoon, my husband suggested we go cycling to help take my mind off the upcoming funeral, and it helped curb the emotional cravings. We did the same today. See, it’s okay to feel sad, but it’s not okay to deal with it via food. My body still wants an outlet, and if I can release with exercise, I’m already learning to cope in a healthy manner.

I also wanted to take this moment to tell all my readers that you are my saviors. On January 1st, I made a resolution to lose weight, and, because of you, I’m still on track. I can’t control “acts of God,” but I can reign in my weight to bring down risk percentages so I can watch my daughter grow up into a beautiful young lady. Y’all have found something in me worth saving, and I’ll forever be grateful.

Advertisements

About lachihuahuaespicy

I write. You can find the following authors on my bookshelf: Kafka, Murakami, Auster, Austen, as well as Hiromu Arakawa and Alan Moore. View all posts by lachihuahuaespicy

14 responses to “Tomorrow Is Not Promised

  • RareBeedLBC

    I am so sorry for your loss! I am praying for you and your family! Continue to stay focused and if you “fall off”, just jump back up and dust yourself off!

  • JUDE RODRIGUEZ

    I’m so proud of you Beautiful!!!!
    You are Awesome!!!!!

  • 40 Pounds By June

    Oh, Dani, I am so sorry for your family’s loss. I am so tired and was just heading for bed when something told me to come over and check your posts. I’m so glad and proud that you are taking the steps to take of yourself. I KNOW how hard it is to break out of those familier patterns, especially when you need comfort in stressful times.
    Lean on your husband – he sounds like one hell of a guy who’s willing to help keep you on this path. How sweet of him to offer a bike ride!
    You also sound like one hell of a mom. I also know how hard it is when your child is hurting, facing one of the hardest life lessons she will have to deal with, and you can’t take her hurt away.
    What I do know about her age group and complicated issues is: when she asks you a question about it, give her the simplest answer. If she’s satisfied with that, she won’t ask anything additional. If not, she’ll ask another question and you can go a little deeper, and so on, until she is satisfied. (am I making sense?)She will try to make sense of this in her 6-year-old mind. It’s OK for her to see you upset and sad, you will be missing him. But you can also ask her for her favorite memories of him (and you can share yours) – that way he can still be with her (and you). As for the funeral, that’s a judgement call. There are opinions on both sides of the issue as to whether to take a child or not. That’s up to you. The funeral is a time for closure (or good-byes), for the living. She may be able to get that in other ways, instead.
    Have you ever read the poem “The Dash”? If not, it’s beautiful and meaningful. Perhaps you can take this opportunity to teach your daughter about the value of what a person does with a life “between the dashes.”
    Sorry, such a long comment, I hope it helps. I’m reaching my arms across the country to give you a hug. You also have my email if you need it. I think we all have something special going on with this group.
    God bless ~

    • cheeseadditional

      Thanks, Colleen. I will look up “The Dash” in a bit. In the end, we decided not to subject Leda to a funeral. They are hard for adults, so I can imagine just how traumatized and stressed out it could have made her. And death is such an abstract concept. She was content knowing that her “abuelito” was in Heaven with Misty and Holly, and we left it like that. She doesn’t want to talk to her dad or me about the loss, but she is talking about it to her teacher, and we’re okay with that. As long as she’s not keeping it bottled in. THAT’S what concerned us.

  • knowwhentoshutup

    I am so sorry to hear about this Dani! It is very difficult, especially trying to explain it to a child.

    This is VERY top of mind, as my grandmother passed away on the Tuesday before Christmas. I wrote about it on my regular blog. It is one of the hardest things to deal with. Take all of the time you both need, and remember the good times.

    • cheeseadditional

      Thank you for your condolences, Mel. It was hard trying to explain it to her. I mean, I’ve killed many an insect for my little one, and now it felt like I was killing off a grandparent. I think she didn’t want to talk to me or her dad about it because she saw us crying, so she didn’t want to burden us. My daughter’s really empathetic. She senses emotional change–she’s always asking her teachers what’s wrong even if they have a smile plastered on their faces, and then they’ll ask me later, “I thought I did a good job of hiding my emotions, but Leda picks ’em up every time!” But she’s doing okay. Leda’s being extremely silly and hyper, and we were told this was a way she was expressing her grief.

  • Edgar

    My condolences to both your daughter, your ex-husband and to you. Everyone that reads your blog should thank YOU…your writing is eloquent, insightful, and thought-provoking. You inspire the rest of us to keep going. Its a very difficult but I know we will do it.

    I have fallen off the wagon momentarily. I hope to be back on it again. I applaud your humility, your courage and your passion to get healthy again.

    God Bless,

    Edgar

  • Just another day on the farm

    I am so sorry to hear about your families loss, it is always a hard thing when we get that news and then have to struggle to makes sense of a world that suddenly feels just a little off-kilter.

    I think its wonderful that you reached out, both to provide support and also to receive it. Take the time you need, and realize that there will be stages, sometimes it will be better and sometimes it will just hit you or your daughter, sometimes I think folks expect us to move on way to fast.. everyone has will grieve at their own pace.

    May you and yours find support, love and honor as you walk this path..

    • cheeseadditional

      Yes, Leda is grieving by being extremely silly. She’ll grab on to a person by his/her belt loops and won’t let go. She’ll follow that person around the house, still clinging to the pants.

      Thank you for your condolences. I almost didn’t post this blog, because many people don’t understand how my ex and I can be such good friends. But, when there’s a child involved, it’s better to show that you still get along and not use that child as a pawn. At least, that’s how we feel, and it’s working out okay that way.

  • UghMyPantsAreTight

    Peace and comfort be with you and your family!

    • cheeseadditional

      Thank you! I feel especially for my former mother-in-law. She’s a tough woman, the “older” woman–she was ten years older than her husband. Even though they had their disagreements at the end, she was still very much in love with him.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: