Tuesdays Flow

I wrote this post in my head during my Tuesday morning workout. And it may be a downer for some one you... so feel free to just skip this post if you want!

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See, I'm a cardio girl. I've ran two marathons (though it's been 10 years!) countless shorter distance races, and a couple of triathlons. If I'm at the gym I usually choose a cardio type class. I try to fit in some weights because I know I need to build muscle. In the past I have had a hard time convincing myself I got a workout if I didn't get any cardio in -- for example, I needed to run before a lifting weights - -  and yoga or Pilates was a joke. Like a waste of time. 

So fast forward to a couple months ago when a trainer at my gym (during a free consult session) suggested I go to a Body Flow class (yoga with a bit of pilates) to help stretch out my tight muscles. I resisted, but went because I knew it would help. Surprisingly, slowly I've gotten hooked on yoga. It's only once a week, so I'm not all "yogi"but I really do hate to miss my Tuesday Flow class. 

So Tuesday after Livs tumbling class, we headed to the gym. And I know what I'm getting myself into every Tuesday. I cry at every Flow class since coming home after my moms funeral. But I keep coming back. Somehow I don't find myself crying at my cardio or weight classes because my brain is probably focused on getting myself enough air to power through the workout... Or the music is just too fast paced to have a good cry? 

One of the last pictures I have with my mom - She was such a
sport - she took my bro and I on an impromptu trip to Salt Lake City
to catch our connecting flight after our flight out of Moab was cancelled.
And she smiled and was grateful for the extra time the whole way.

Anyways, I have a friend, recently turned yoga instructor in my old town of Hastings, Nebraska. She has mentioned she makes these emotional breakthroughs while doing yoga.. Or that her emotions are just so raw and sometimes she finds herself crying out of nowhere. Either way, I totally agree. 

I usually end up having a bit of a crying session during the last song where we all lay down and relax (I love it -- someone is watching my kids while I can lay on the ground and relax? YES!) Tuesday was different. I started thinking how nice it is to be able to exercise again after being so nauseas for months and months. And I thought my mom would have loved doing this with me if her body would have been able. Sometimes I think "I should call her and tell her about this awesome class." But then I remember she is gone. Because sometimes the hardest part is remembering that she is actually gone. 

After the graveside service -
Sam keeps reminding me that I got to put a
rose on the casket and he didn't
So "NEXT TIME" he gets to also.
I'm hoping the next time is not for a long time.

I have lived far away from her (at least 14 hrs by car) for the last 5 years. I probably averaged seeing her two or three times a year, so 15ish times in the last 5 years. I got used to not seeing her. I'm used to talking to her -- for the last year and a half or do I called almost every day. So sometimes it's hard to remind myself she's not there for me to talk to on the phone. 

But it's also hard because I just keep assuming I will see her "next time." Like Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or when this sweet baby is born. 

Liv and her naked bum.
She loved playing in the rocks

I let Liv get some time playing in the mud
at my dad's house - she loved it!

After mud pies, she wanted to swing

I keep thinking, after some "experience" I will have reality set in. Like I will just stop forgetting that she's gone. Before I went home for the funeral, I thought reality would set in when I finally got home and saw my dad. But it didn't, I just kept looking around for her. Signs of her life were everywhere. I kept using her hand lotion she kept out. Her cane was in the corner. A note from her sister was on the fridge. 

Then I thought "maybe when I see her and we have the funeral, then I will realize she's gone." But no. I kept looking for her the funeral. I just assumed she was going to the bathroom and that she would be back sitting in her chair or telling us what to make for dinner. 

I have also been surprised what has been hard, and what has been easy. Sometimes I am fine, and some things catch me off guard and break my heart and make me cry. 

Me, Suzanne, Dad, Brad, and Todd
After the funeral August 7 2014

I remember going to church the morning my dad told me my mom had passed away. I had been ok. I knew she was in a better place and I was happy she wasn't suffering. But as I was walking up to the church, I was talking to my dad about when the funeral would be and whether they would have time to announce it. He said that a family friend had called the local bishops and they would announce it at church. That was hard. Reality started to hit when I knew other people would know.

I didn't realize this, but at a funeral it's normal to display the life of the person who has died. Setting up tables of memories and different pictures and quilts my mom had made was hard. It was like displaying a beautiful life on a few tables, and I couldn't even begin to capture her wonderful spirit. 

The viewing and funeral were ok. It was hard, but it was so good. We had so so much support and we all felt so loved. It was also easy to help write the obituary. It was like writing a wonderful story about my mom.

But on our way driving out of town, I stopped by the newspaper office to pick up a couple of copies - and it was shockingly hard to read the obituary in the newspaper. That hurt. And I still haven't picked it up - there's just a neat (or not so neat) little pile of things from the funeral that I haven't even wanted to touch.

My dad also had a nice DVD made with pictures of my mom that played with music for people to watch while they were in line for the viewing. He gave all of us siblings a copy and it's in that pile. My dad suggested I watch it sometime, and mostly with my kids. He really wants his grandkids to remember my mom. And I thought it would be easy to just pop that DVD right in -- but when it came time, I just found something else to do. Sometimes it just takes time to work through emotions, and I think this is one of them. 

I love this picture - Todd was saying his belly was bigger than
mine or Suzanne's (I'm about 15 weeks along and Suz
is about 13 weeks) 

So this Flow class gives me time to think each of these thoughts. It's wonderful to hear myself think without being interrupted every 20 seconds by a 4 and 2 year old. I love the relaxing atmosphere, and I think it just allows me to grieve. Hopefully no one notices me wiping a tear or two (or more!) away in class.

So if anyone out there needs to work through some hard feelings, I would recommend going to your local gym with good child care (if you have kids and they are not in schools) and get yourself in a yoga class. Maybe it won't be the first or second time that you can relax enough to feel whatever you need, but I bet it will come. And you will get some killer workout in while you are at it. Yoga is hard!

I got to bring my mom's shoes home
I wear them almost every day because they remind me of her.