I Stand Accused

“That doesn’t sound right.  Someone needs to look into that further....”

Matt’s friend spewed that sentiment after the explaination of the incident involving Matt's brother.  The discussion took place not long after Aaron took his life.  Matt was upset by it.

I was shocked.

I never imagined there would be speculation.  Yet literally, just some random (to me, anyway) guy in Illinois arrogantly dismissed the incident as a suicide, and effectively deemed it a homicide.

And, he made me the suspect.

I’m angry about it, still.  I don’t think about it that often, but when I do it’s a bitter pill to swallow.  My jaw clenches, my teeth grind, my face twists into a scowl and I want to punch holes in walls and scream until I lose my voice.   

Does this jack off even know Matt's brother?!  Was he here to manage the moods that covered Aaron like dark clouds drifting above depending upon which way the wind blew?  Was he here that morning?     

No.  He wasn’t.  But, I stand accused.

And, Matt’s friend isn’t the only one.

I’d eventually tell this story to Aaron’s best friend, Damon and his girlfriend.  “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that too....you know how some cops can be”, Damon replied.

(What?!  Are you kidding me?)

Damon knows and works around a lot of police officers.  And that day over lunch, I'd learn that one of them suggested to him that perhaps things aren't what they appear.   Someone who wears the same uniform I wore for 25 years....someone I call family even if we don't personally know each other....

...one of my own judged me.  I stand accused.

But, I think I played it cool that day...hiding from Damon my sadness, confusion, anger.   Jaw clenched.  Teeth grinding...

But I couldn't help but wonder how many more brothers or sisters in blue suspect me in a homicide?

I don’t know.  

I wish I did.  I wish I could meet those who question the incident and explain with such grave detail the events that occurred so that they too might see it in their minds eye every single day like I do.  But that's a burden I've only placed on people who got paid to listen to me.

So I'm silenced.  And, I stand accused.   Jaw clenched, teeth grinding...face twisted in a scowl.

But, with my next deep inhale, I remember the countless friends who reached out to me in support; those who have poured so much love into me that my darkest days turned to light. You who are reading this - who cheer me on, encourage me and remind me that I'm never alone.  You bring me back to center.

And, with that, my jaw releases its tension, a space gives way between my teeth and my face softens as I drop to my knees in deepest gratitude that God has blessed me with the most amazing group of friends on the planet. I get up off my knees.

And, I stand....loved.

Chocolate Beginnings

I can’t seem to do it.   

It nags at me, consuming my thoughts, like an itch I can’t scratch.  I’ve tried willing it back into existence by making Face Book posts announcing to the world that I’m “officially back”.  But, in reality I’m not back.  I can’t seem to get my Isagenix business running again.  It’s frustrating because I felt unstoppable not that long ago; my momentum was strong and I loved helping friends realize their goals.

But when Aaron took his life, my nutritional business took a back seat.  As much as I try to put it back in the driver’s seat, I’m still looking at it through the rear view mirror and it keeps getting farther and farther away.  So, when I explained this to my counselor and admitted that I still want to work at least part time, she gave me homework:

“...write down three things you're most passionate about ~ don’t worry if they’re silly.  When you do what you love, it won’t be a struggle and it won't feel like work.” 

It only took me 3 seconds to write the first three things that came to mind:

1. Motorcycles
2. Fitness
3. Chocolate  

I know number 2 and 3 are at odds but admittedly, I have a small piece of dark chocolate every single day.  There were times in my life where I entertained the idea of learning how to make chocolate - my love for it runs that deep.  I’d marry chocolate if I could.

So I sat with my list, the corners of my lips curled up in a slight smile as I sunk into a day dream of what it’d be like to run my own chocolate business...

...and, then suddenly my heart and mind were flooded with ideas that did not seem to be my own.  I can’t explain it any other way other than to say that I felt as if the inspiration came from God.  

I felt He placed on my heart some specific ideas and this inspiration catapulted me out of my chair toward my laptop where I commenced research on chocolatier schools.  I poured over the internet for over an hour to the point of overwhelm.  To clear my head, I took a break from research and went to check a Face Book message but naturally got sidetracked by a marshmallow chocolate dessert tutorial which I immediately shared on my wall.

The thread received some attention and one friend commented that her son, Jason, could easily make that dessert.  After making a few more comments using fancy chocolate lingo, I asked “Is Jason a chocolate-maker-type guy?”   

“Yes.  He’s a chocolatier and has his own business here in the Valley”.

“Well, that’s interesting”, I replied.  “I was literally just researching chocolatier schools...”   

“Well, if you’re interested, we’ll hire you and teach you how to make his chocolates.”

I stared at her response in total disbelief.  One minute I’m researching chocolatier schools.  The next, I’m getting offered a job as a chocolatier.

Craziness.

So what happened next?  

My friend suggested I meet Jason at the kitchen.  So I did.  That meeting took place the morning of February 22nd.  Jason invited me back to shadow in the kitchen which happened yesterday.  I couldn't wipe the smile off my face the entire time.  

How will this whole thing end?

I dunno.   I do know that Jason invited me back again and he let me borrow a Level 1 Chocolate book to study in the meantime.  I know better than to look too far ahead into the future because things don't always go as we imagine they will.  So I'll just keep taking one step at a time. And, right now my next step is to make myself an Isagenix shake (product consumption, definitely not an issue!) and crack open my chocolate book to study some more.  

Meanwhile, did you know that milk fat is very sensitive to saponification?  Me neither. Mostly because I didn't even know what saponification meant.  I had to look it up.  And, it's a Level 1 book.

But every successful chocolatier had to start from the beginning.

Helping to make ganache in the kitchen with Jason making another recipe behind me!

Chinks in the Armor

Dark clouds, grey skies and rain.  The last few days have felt like an unwanted mirror to the dark, damp places in my heart.  Frankly, I thought I was doing okay.  I mean, yeah, still a work in progress, no doubt.  But, what is it about a dark sky that rattles the doors to the places that you would rather just keep shut?

Meanwhile, a friend from church has been telling me about a Grief Share group since Aaron’s passing.  When he first mentioned it back in June of last year, I wished I had attended something like that when my mom passed in 2009.  But I wasn’t connected to a church back then.  Or to God for that matter.  When I look back, I wonder how I made it through my mom’s terminal diagnosis, my denial, her decline, some upsetting family dynamics and eventually her passing, all within three months.

I’m still not over the family stuff.  I should probably work through that at some point.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to attend the Grief Share meeting.  It’s just...I was in therapy, after all...watching green lights flash back and forth on a super cool light bar for weeks on end.  And I blogged, like a real blogger there for a minute.  I was back in my own house, sleeping in my own room just eight days after Aaron died.  Granted, it’d take me forever to get to sleep because I’d open my eyes every 5 seconds but I still regained lost ground.

Alan continued to keep me updated about the meetings over the course of the last eight months.

I continued to not go.   

I felt my armor was holding up pretty well.  Sure, I had my moments and still do (all normal), but I was dressed for battle and holding my own against grief.

Then the clouds came.  The skies drew dark.  I turned on every light in the house but it didn’t help.   I was literally in denial about it being gloomy outside.  Then my cell phone chirped:

“Hey Lisa, just a reminder that Grief Share starts the 19th at 11:00.”    

“Thanks Alan!"

So yesterday, when church let out at 10:30, I avoided Grief Share by heading to Dunkin Donuts for some glazed deliciousness and a small coffee (Not to worry, I squeezed it into my macros)!  I tried to enjoy my snack without paying attention to the time on my cell phone.  But when it got to be 10:51 am, I knew if I was perhaps, possibly, probably not, but maybe, going to Grief Share, I had to leave 5 minutes ago.  I took one more sip of coffee, cleaned off my table and left, passing Ocotillo Rd. which would have taken me back to my house.   

I’ll just turn south on 14th St to head home....I’m not going to Grief Share.  

Then I passed 14th Street.  And, 12th.  And, then 7th.  And, eventually I found myself walking into the room where the Grief Share meeting was already taking place.

I was handed my own workbook, a Sharpie and some paperwork.  I finished the questionairre just in time for it to be my turn to introduce myself and share who I lost.

“Uhm.  Sorry I was late...I wasn't going to come....I was eating a glazed donut.”   Some laughed.  Some nodded their head in genuine empathetic agreement.  

I spent just 20 seconds explaining who I had lost and the manner of their passing and my throat felt like it was being clenched tightly by someone's fist the entire time.  Throughout the meeting, that knot would return when something that was said during the video would pierce my heart or when I'd see someone else in the room struggling with their grief.

It's easy to eventually place our grief on a shelf.  We get to a place where we're functioning so well, and we want to continue that way.   We dress ourselves in armor and walk around seemingly 'fixed' but grief has layers that beg to be peeled back.  If we don't address it, sometimes it takes the rain to come and the clouds to hold the sun hostage and keep it from shining....  

...and, that’s when you see it.  

When there isn't any light reflecting so brightly off the armor, you see the chink.  It was always there.  And, it always will be.  It's just eventually it won't be so noticeable.  And, with all the work I've done so far, my armor still looks pretty solid.

But, yeah I'll possibly, perhaps, most likely continue on with the Grief Share 13-week series. I've always said grief can't be ignored (not when it's cloudy anyway).   And truly it's there to serve me, not to do battle with me.  It's there to remind me that perhaps I have some chinks to address; another layer I need to strip away.

Regardless that I've made the decision to again partner with grief and see what comes up this time around, rather than to try to fight it back, I'm still sporting my suit of armor.  It's kinda badass.  Sure, on dark cloudy days it's a little dull but when the sun is shining, and I have a feeling that even when I'm indoors attending Grief Share, the armor relects the Light beautifully.