Round Here: Part One

Where to begin???  Any of you who have read my past posts know by now that I'm a flaky blogger.  Ugh!  I still intend to buckle down and hammer out my thoughts, feelings, and happenings.  Life is CHAOS...and that is putting it mildly.  I stay exhausted 99.9% of the time.

There is so much going on right now, that my brain and body are like scrambled eggs. That is why I'm gonna have to break this post into parts.  As y'all know, I don't leave out many details.

Let's start with the obvious.  Daddy.  It seems like I'm grieving in reverse.  I am the saddest right now that I have been since he died.  You would have thought that my brother and I were having a casual meeting with the funeral director.  We seemed like we were shopping for a car instead of a casket.  I did not even flinch when I saw all of those caskets in the fancy "showroom." We picked one out and went on about other things that needed to be taken care of, not one tear shed.

The flood has arrived. 

December 6th marks seven months without my Daddy.  Surely, the holidays are intensifying this hard time.  I have cried so many tears over the past several weeks to fill the seas.  I've been mad at God.  I have quit praying like I'm supposed to.  I'm self-medicating and self-destructing.  This is affecting relationships among friends and family.  It feels like I'm about to implode at any moment.  I feel so very alone and misunderstood.

When I say misunderstood...

I had a lady, who I am very fond of, look at me as if I had grown two heads when I told her I was still having a hard time.  She said, "Lauren! I cannot BELIEVE that you haven't gotten over that and let go yet!!!"  Slap in the face?!  Undersatement.  I spilled my guts and gave her details of what I experienced my Daddy go through during those horrendous six weeks.  I told her all about the end and how traumatic it was to witness.  Those six weeks play like a broken record in my mind daily...especially the end.  After explaining all of this (through tears, sobs, and snot) she was shaking her head and still had that dumbfounded look on her face. She went on to say how I needed to compartmentalize, blah, blah, blah.  I'm still very hurt by her reaction.

Which brings me to my next point...

NOBODY GRIEVES THE SAME AND THERE IS NO TIMETABLE. PERIOD.

That is self-explanatory, so no need to elaborate on that.

My husband, children, Mama, brother, mother-in-law, best friend, other family members, supportive Facebookers, and God have been my safety net. The knots at the end of my rope that keep me from slipping. The buoys that keep me from drowning in my sea of tears.

I can't sleep tonight, so I figured I'd put up a post.  I had no premeditated plan for the course this post would travel.

Stay tuned for Part 2... 

He's Everywhere

I made a promise on Facebook that I would write a blog post about how I lost 100 pounds in six months.  I started on it a while back and haven't had the time or energy to finish it.  I'll get it done... Knowing me, it'll be next year.  Miss procrastinator.

Grief has slammed into me like a tsunami in the past couple of weeks.  I'm doing great on the outside.  New job, beautiful family, beach trips, smiling for pictures, cute house.  I'm a pro at putting on my "happy face."  But on the inside, I wilt a little more each day.  I have been swept off of my feet and tossed along in the unforgiving waters.  Some days, I feel like I am drowning.  I have cried nonstop for the past three days.  Somehow, I manage to keep my nostrils above water and hang on to the few trees that are still standing.  Thank you God, for your grace and protection.

Daddy is constantly on my mind.  Although I do experience happiness and laughter, there is a veil of sadness draped over me.  It literally feels like somebody has poured hot acid Into my stomach.  My heart feels like it's been trampled by 1,000 bulls.

Some of my close friends already know this, but I have a hard time cooking since Daddy has been gone.  Cooking was something we did together many, many times.  The last time I cooked with Daddy was last Christmas.  I went to his apartment and helped him prepare at least a dozen of his own recipes for the Christmas party at his work.  Daddy was the "go to" man for YEARS at Consolidated Diesel anytime there was going to be an occasion that involved food.  He was that good of a cook.  He could have had a very successful restaurant or catering business, no doubt.  I'm so thankful for that last time I had, just me and Daddy, cooking up a storm.  He'd give me a testing spoon and ask me, "How is it, shug?"  After a minute of me in a food coma bliss, I'd tell him tht it was perfection... and it was!

I've probably cooked three or four homemade meals since he died.  I do make sure that my children are fed.  I have really fast stuff on hand for them.  Those steamable frozen veggies, chicken nuggets, fresh fruit, and boil in the bag rice have saved my life!  There will come a day when I desire to cook again.  My Daddy would want me to.  I've got to learn how to grill.  He made the best bbq chicken and beef ribs you have ever tasted!  He made his cakes from scratch.  He made the food for my wedding and it was THE BEST wedding food I've ever had. I could go on and on.

There have been a few times when I've wanted to sit down and blog about "the end."  I have this urgency to tell the story.  It's just too painful and personal.  My daddy, or my family, wouldn't want me sharing those intimate details.  But I can tell you that it was the hardest, yet most amazing experience of my life.  We cheered him on to go meet Jesus.  I knew it was inevitable, so I stayed strong for Daddy.  I told him we'd be alright.  When it was over, I dropped to my knees and thanked God for having mercy on my Daddy and taking him Home.  Before Daddy left that night, we sang to him for hours.  I'm so glad we did that.  I know Daddy loved it.  For a couple of weeks before his death, he'd ask us, "Do you hear that singing??  It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard!"  Of course, we couldn't hear it.  We told him that it was the angels giving him a preview of what was to come.  His welcoming party was preparing him.

We have some hard times ahead.  August the 4th will be four months since Daddy went Home.  But I know that good times are ahead too.  It breaks my heart that he won't be here for any of it. 

I came across a card yesterday that Daddy had given me for my 30th birthday.  In it, he told me that of all the mistakes he had made in his life, he knew he'd done something right because to him, I was "...one of the best people I know. Forgiving, loving, & caring."  My favorite and perhaps most foreshadowing statement that he made in the card was, "Remember, you leave this world without a thing but love." 

My brother and I found something very precious and invaluable while cleaning out his apartment.  I am going to use part of it for my first tattoo in memory of Daddy.  I'm hoping to get that tattoo this fall and share it with y'all then.

There is so much more in my heart and brain that I just want to spill out into this post.  I'm going to stop here for now.  I leave you with some priceless pictures.  Thank you, Mama, for being the one behind the lens.  I wouldn't have all of these if it weren't for her.  Pray for us all.  We're all struggling in our own ways.

Loved his baby girl...

 

Daddy made his girl so happy :)

 

Looks like he was happy to be holding me after a hard day's work :)

 

Easter Sunday

 

At the beach!

 

At Grandma's and Papa's house.

 

Sunset Park

 

Pretty sure this was at the Spring Hope Pumpkin Festival.

 

Proud Daddy and proud Big Sister! Justin Michael Batchelor was born!

September 30, 1985.  I remember this vividly!

 

Happy for my Daddy to be home from work :)  He worked

at Pepsi before going to CDC.  Rocking that perm Daddy, haha!

 

Daddy loving on his children <3

 

Easter Sunday

 

Tradition for Daddy to lay beside me on the living room

floor to watch some television.  Remember this too!

 

Helping Daddy blow out his birthday candles!

 

Mama and Daddy took us to the beach every summer

growing up.  So thankful for the memories.  Daddy rocking

that tan!  Indian blood.

 

Helping his little girl build a snowman :)

 

Loved my Daddy <3

 

Pullen Park.  I remember this day.  Mama and Daddy

did so much with us and for us.

 

Nashville, TN - Mama & Daddy took us.  I think I was 15.

We went so that I could sing in front of a producer!  I did sing

at Tootsie's underground bar and The Palace, where Randy Travis

was discovered.  Great experience, but I wasn't "discovered."  That's ok...

my parents were so proud!

 

Senior Debuette Ball.  You can see on my Daddy's face how proud he was.

 

One of my favorites.  Pure Daddy/Daughter love.

Taken before one of my dance recitals.

 

 

Thanks for reading and allowing me to share just a glimpse of what I'm going through.  Most of all, I'm so proud to share with you just a few of the pictures that depict Daddy's love for his children.  Daddy, I miss you more everyday.  Thank you for the good memories.  See ya later!

 

 

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God."  2 Corinthians 1:3-4

 





 



The Hard Stuff

I'd be lying if I said that life has been wonderful as of late.

It has been pretty darn crappy. And that is putting it lightly. I am in a deep, dark, awful place. I do have my moments where I am happy and have a genuine smile on my face. Those moments are mostly because of my children.  

99.9% of the time, I just want to ball up on my bed with the covers over my head and never come out. I don't want to see anyone or talk to anyone. As I type this, I realize how selfish and hateful that sounds. It is not directed at anyone. It's just the way I choose to cope right now. My sweet Mama has sent me some things to read about grief, so I realize that all of this is normal and part of the depression I am experiencing. But it stinks to feel like this.

Today marks four weeks since Daddy went Home. FOUR WEEKS. Four weeks since I last held his warm hand and told him how much I love him and would miss him. Four weeks since I told him, "I'll see you later, Daddy" and "Go Home, Daddy. We will be okay." Four weeks since I watched him take his final breath. Four weeks since the Hospice nurse confirmed that his heart had stopped beating. Four weeks since he met Jesus. Four weeks since I dropped to my knees and praised God for having mercy on my Daddy and for ending his suffering. Four weeks since I kissed his forehead after his spirit had left his body. Four weeks since I sang, "Surely the Presence" in the room where Daddy stepped out of earth and into Heaven. Four weeks. Unbelieveable.

Daddy was hospitalized twice at Duke. Those weeks were tough. Watching Daddy decline each day was excruciating. It seemed that the doctors and nurses just could not seem to get his pain under control. That was so frustrating. I must add, however, that Daddy's team of oncologists and the nurses were so good to Daddy and us. They truly cared. When we were told that Daddy would need to go into a Hospice House, one of his doctors had tears in her eyes. Her heart was so broken for all of us.

This may sound twisted, but I actually miss those days and nights at Duke. Especially the first hospital stay. He was admitted after I drove him in the middle of the night to the ER at Duke. Yes, he was in pain. Yes, he was having scary symptoms. Yes, he was so sick. But he was still Daddy. He was able to talk, walk, eat, go to the bathroom on his own, etc. And why are people normally in the hospital? TO GET BETTER! We had hope while Daddy was there. Once he was moved to the Hospice House, there was still a glimmer of hope. But......

I hated what the Hospice House represented. It is a nice facility, really gorgeous. The nurses there are some of the best you will ever meet. I rode on the ambulance from Duke to the HH. It was a good ride, actually. Daddy stayed awake and didn't let go of my hand the entire time. We even sang some songs together. I was looking forward to Daddy going to the HH. I had done my research and liked what I saw.

That all changed when we pulled up in the driveway. It hit me square through my heart that the building I was looking at was, in all likelihood, the place where my Daddy would pass away. I stayed smiley and cheerful for Daddy's sake. It was a beautiful, bright, sunny day. Gorgeous. But there was a nasty, violent storm brewing inside of me.

As they wheeled Daddy off of the ambulance and into the building, I realized that the next time he was "rolled on a gurney," he wouldn't be alive. And that when they wheeled him out of that same door, it would be into a van that had never seen life like that ambulance did.

Today is the first day that I have had a decent cry. After I went up the steps to Daddy's apartment, I walked to the door and looked inside. Empty. I was imagining Daddy standing in his little kitchen whipping up some good eats. I wanted so badly to hear him say, "Come on in, Little Lauren!" or "Hey shug, how was your day?" Nothing but silence and emptiness. Exactly what I feel on the inside. I sat on his deck and let the tears come. That deck. Once filled with flowers and birdfeeders and comfy chairs. The deck that once held life and good memories is now empty. The only thing that occupied it today was a girl crying, lonely, and wishing to God that her Daddy was still there.

Pray for us. My entire family is struggling. So are Daddy's co-workers. People say it will get easier, but I have my doubts.

I will write again. Hopefully, it won't be so sad and somber. Writing is good for me though. Thank you all for reading and praying.

Much love,
Lauren

Daddy

 My sweet, precious Daddy passed away on May 6, 2014 around 11:10 pm. I am not quite ready to share everything that is on my mind. I am still in shock, really.

I have cried maybe five tears since Daddy passed away. I know the flood is coming. I've been asking myself, "What is wrong with me? Why can't I cry?" A lot of people have been in my shoes and have reassured me that it will come.

My family is EXTREMELY blessed that we got so many chances to tell Daddy how much we love him over the past several weeks. Although Daddy suffered terribly, there were many precious moments in those final weeks. My heart breaks for families whose loved ones die suddenly. And my heart breaks for families who have walked in our shoes. Obviously, I had NO IDEA what it was like until is happened to us. It is harder than I ever imagined.

I am so glad that I, and some other family members, were there to comfort Daddy and cheer him on as he went to meet Jesus. It was such a bittersweet experience... one that I will never ever forget.

I miss Daddy so much, that it physically hurts. I have had at least dozens of urges to pick up the phone to call him. Every single time, it is like a stab to my heart when I realize that I will never get to do that. He was always so excited to hear from me. Everytime I called him at work or at home, he always said, "Hey Shug!!!!" It was like hearing from his baby girl just made his day.

I cannot get the hospice house experience out of my head. It plays over and over and over like a broken record. The nurses there were phenomenal, but I hated that place and what it represented. I will elaborate on that eventually... when and if I am ready to. A lot of it is very personal and I am not at the point yet where I can make the decision of how much to share.

I will most definitely be sharing some of the precious and funny moments that occured while Daddy was at Duke and the hospice house. I am still chuckling about the funny stuff :-P

Vernon "Carl" Batchelor, Jr.

March 25, 1955 - May 6, 2014

This picture is probably from 1980ish. My Daddy was so handsome. GQ style :-D

"Therefore you now have sorrow; but I will see you again and your heart will rejoice, and your joy now one will take from you." John 16:22 NKJV

Daddy, I cannot wait to be where you are...