I recognize that the family time had over the 4th of July weekend will never happen again in the same way. Kids will grow. Relationship dynamics will change.

I also recognize that it was stressful for both me and my kiddo. Hard doesn’t come close to describing it. I am not great at naming the things that hurt my soul quite yet. I am glad I went. I am glad I am home.

And now at home, I recognize that there are things that need to be done, things to put away, straightening to do, organizing that needs to happen. I also recognize that I need to be still and heal. I need a reset to my normal. First and foremost, emotionally, but just to throw in a little creativity for my higher power to sort out, I hurt my shoulder yeeting children, and I am still, maybe forever dealing with pain management from the neuralgia.

I will say that I learned from my last mistake and do not have to contend with a sunburn. We were out in the sun for a full two plus days. I have no idea how that compares to last time, but I knocked those corrective measures out of the park. I brought enough sunscreen to coat the entire town AND my canopy to shade a 10’ x 10’ space of my folks deck that is not normally shaded. Boom!

There were so many emotions over the weekend, that I’m not sure I could name them all. For curiosity’s sake, I am going to try and just see where this leads me. Grief, anxiety, fear, contempt, disregard, apathy, pride, joy, accomplishment, curiosity, expectation, disappointment, anticipation, release, commitment, peace, security, comfort, pain, defensiveness, defiance, belligerence, willingness, anger, vulnerability, uncertainty, *worry, avoidance, excitement, admiration, resentment, discouragement, resignation, frustration, awe, wonder, confusion, interest, surprise, nostalgia, sarcasticm, empathy, connection, disconnection, insecurity, invisibility, love, heartbreak, trust, hurt, gratitude, tranquility, humility.

The first 26 were mine just sitting here skimming through my weekend tying emotions to events. After the asterisk, the last 29 were from the table of contents of Atlas of the Heart, Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience by Brene Brown. 55 named emotions in thinking about a three and a half day trip. I grabbed Brene’s book because I thought I was doing myself an injustice after starting the list. I was right and I am a big fan of reference material.

I needed to start naming some of this chaos in my head. It’s affecting me a lot. My thinking, my perceptions, the way I am receiving words, my internal dialog. It affected the end of my weekend with my kiddo, my wife’s return from a 10 day work trip, my home space with my wife, and if I am not careful, it will seep into work. But if I name it, face it and sit with it, I can release the unneeded energy back into the universe. My natural state for the last three years has been beyond amazing. Beyond. I don’t have to go out of my way anymore to do the work to maintain my amazing life. The work is built in. And this little emotional bout, should we call it, is different. It makes the depression dips seem practiced and manageable.

No, this is anger. Destructiveness. Chaos. All the emotions listed above. And it’s not about drinking. It hasn’t been about drinking for a long time. It’s about emotional balance. That’s what caused the drinking for so long.

Arriving Saturday, I could have packed up my kid and left. It was a brief and fleeting thought. It was a rough start to a long weekend. One of my hellos was laced with disapproval, ignorance, fear, and an invalidation of my family, my wife, and my child. Belly and I had a wonderful time in the pool together Saturday afternoon, as no one else was poolside yet. Belly was excited to be with her cousins but she put up with me for a day, just us.

Brothers two and three arrived Sunday with their broods. It was a lot of fun. It got a lot louder and chaotic. We have a decent hierarchy set up where it’s Grammie and Papa’s house, so it’s their rules, and then if kids have further questions, they are sent to their own parents. Within that system are about a million variations and tangents that can be very overwhelming. See list of emotions above.

Monday was a repeat of Sunday with increasingly tired children that wanted to be out in the sun all day. Monday night when the fam was shooting fireworks, I witnessed my kiddo have a panic attack for the first time. And the second time. It was so heartbreaking. I could have done some serious damage to any relationship that night because I was already wearing thin. I did my best to take care of my kiddo and pretty much ignored everyone else. There was a lot going on. There were about 15 of us out on the driveway including five excited firework lighting children, and five Rankers from my family of origin. We are big, loud, and bossy. Too many cooks kind of thing.

According to the Moon, something happened last 4th of July with her other family that now caused her to be extremely startled when firecrackers went off. So with about 10 different people taking turns lighting, we attempted to ask the family if they would let us know if they were doing anything that went boom or crackle; or crackle boom. That’s a pretty tough request, especially if you aren’t sure what a firework might do. And simply, I think something went off when she had her back turned searching out our next thing to light. For my part, I think I was so set on having her light stuff and be out there having fun, that I didn’t assess her fear or trama response well. She said firecrackers scared her. I had been told previously, by her other mother, that she has had panic attacks. I wasn’t sure if that was true or what they looked like. I didn’t put any of that whole equation together. I didn’t ask her, for instance, if she would just like to sit and watch others light. I assumed she would want to be out there lighting. I remember her saying something like any firework that made noise or changed color scared her. I chuckled and said, honey, you just described every firework that ever existed. I also remember brushing it off and grabbing her to go see what she wanted to light next.

Because I was absorbed in lighting my own fireworks, I did not even see her get startled. Ang came over with Bella and quietly said, hey, I think she needs to go somewhere. When I looked down at her, she was doing these little short heavy breaths. Her shoulders were rising and falling with each breath, kind of gasping for air I guess. I don’t panic in emergency situations, so I just grabbed her hand and walked away from the driveway toward the front of the house. The front of the house is around the corner from the driveway, so it was probably about a half block walk. We went and sat on the porch swing for only a few minutes because she had calmed down quite a bit with just the walk. I asked what happened and she said someone lit a firecracker or a mortar shell or something. I asked her if she wanted to keep shooting fireworks and she said yes. I rubbed her back and we sat there for just another minute and then she was ready to go. Jumped off the swing and was three steps in front of me before I could even get up.

And again, I thought we were good to go. She was back out there with her cousins doing the stuff. The second panic attack came after she had just been out in the street and was returning to the driveway. There is a pretty good sized dip where the driveway hits the street. Someone in the street lit something, it scared her, kids don’t walk, and she bit it running. I didn’t even see her fall. This time, I think my sister-in-law called me over and Bella was sitting in a chair holding a skinned knee and doing the breathing thing again. I scooped her up and took her to my chair. I didn’t know how hurt she was and I wanted to be a bit away from all the other things going on. Between gasps, she listed her injuries and said she was fine. It was the noise that had caused the most damage. Oh my heart.

My nieces and nephews were so wonderful. Since we didn’t walk away this time, and we were just sitting in the chair, me clutching and rocking her and her gasping for air, the kids kinda came over one at a time and checked on her. Their little faces! Is she okay? What happened? And when I said I thought she was okay but just needed a little space, they nodded and zoomed off like there were on some kind of secret mission. Children are the absolute best.

I have no idea how long we sat there, but I was so focused on her that I didn’t realize the fam was wrapping things up. In the past, like for forever, since we were kids, we would do all the little stuff while mixing the cool big stuff in, but we always saved a couple two three things to do as a finale. So this packing up and winding down thing was strange too. I don’t know if they all decided they were done or if they were worried about Bella, tired kids, out of fireworks… No clue. Bella was ready to be done tho and still breathing short and gaspy. I left all my fireworks and my table and my chair and we went inside downstairs to continue working on the panic attack. Angela super wife was always right by my side.

We sat in the cool basement and breathed. I held this eight year old infant in my arms. We talked about what startled her, where and how she fell, what she wanted to do next, stay down here with us or sleep upstairs with the cousins again. I think I had three Ranker men ask me if I was coming back outside to put away my stuff. “Okay, Dad said to ask so he can close up the garage.” I’ll handle it, I said again, and again. Sheesh! And then, when Bells was ready, she changed into her pajamas and bounded upstairs to join the other kiddos. Done.

Ang and I went outside to put things away and talk. I was so sad and confused and heartbroken for my little baby. She probably recovered much quicker than I did. I think I handled the situation just fine, but reflecting in the driveway, I felt so unprepared, maybe like I didn’t know my own kiddo. Just kind of out of touch, out of the loop. I can know that it is a direct result of the disease of alcoholism and it’s affects, own my part, and know that I am here now, doing my best, but the fear, anxiety, confusion, frustration, and discouragement were all there riding shotgun.

Tuesday was the worst emotional hangover I maybe ever had in my life, anger still at the boiling point. One hundred forms of fear. Worry. Pain. Helplessness. I had been with my family too long at that point. Relationships were in jeopardy. I was defensive and short. My old behaviors were creeping in. Everyone was pretty worn out. Well, not the kids. They were ready to go again. I don’t even remember what we did Tuesday except pack things up, swim a little, eat lunch I think, but we didn’t leave till 2pm, so we must have done something. Oh, I think I went back to sleep! Ang took the puppers for a walk and he came back covered in poo, so she bathed him when she got back, which he doesn’t like and I was curt with her in my lack of assistance. She came over to me later and requested, in so many words, that I chill. I hadn’t even realized I was being a grump. I wish that had snapped me out of it. I didn’t know it then, but I was actually several days from the snap.

To bring it all back around and sum it up short, and sweet: this is exactly what I used to drink over. My own emotions. My own expectations. My own disappointment. Today, after years of hard work, that is replaced with self-love, reflection, self-forgiveness, humility, support, connection, and willingness. Gotta go, time to grow.

I posted a picture on FB recently asking friends if I looked like a badass or a fool. I felt very badass in the photo. Ang teased me saying I looked silly.

But it made me realize that I have felt comfortable in my own skin for going on 3 years! If I just sit and let that be, marinate in that for a little bit, it is beyond amazing. I started running from myself when I was 18 years old, almost the moment I left home.

I have been searching for myself ever since. Some say that the gods split us when someone made them mad and since then we search for our other half in a significant other. I say we are fractured within ourselves. If that was my case at some point, it is no longer true. And not to say that I am static in my being. I have found a home within myself and I continue to grow.

I have found the badass in myself. I have learned how to define that badass in myself any way I want. I would like to think that I am doing that with my kiddo as well. And oh man, that is so hard!

Anywho, I could ramble on, but I took my little badass kayaking yesterday. Ang and I have 2 one person kayaks. We tried taking Bella in a kayak with Ang and it was a very tight fit. It would only have been worse with me. I wanted Bella to give it a go on her own. I want her to build some confidence in herself. She mostly crushed it. I don’t know that I thought there could be any other option. We were taking the kayaks out on the lake and I sure as hell had no way to pull her back in. I don’t know what’s going to be changeling for an 8 year old. I don’t remember what it is like to be 8! Spoiler alert: I didn’t know what was going to be hard for this 43 3/4 year old either.

We began the conversation even before we started putting the kayaks on the car. How the hell was I going to get kayaks on and off the car with an 8 year old? She wanted to go kayaking, but I really think she has no idea how much work is involved in everything. So I started the conversation telling her that she was going to help me every step of the way. And with each step I asked, do you still wanna do this? The first step was lifting the kayaks off the ground, just her and me. You are seeing how much work this is, do you still want to do this? Yes, was always the answer, so we pressed on.

We lifted the kayaks on to the car, her and I. We pulled out a step-stool, I handed her the front end, and she held it while I lifted the back end. I put the straps on and tightened them, showed her how to tie off the ends of the straps, and then moved on to the next, all the while asking, you see how much work this is, do you still want to do it? We will have to do this again after we kayak, do you still want to do it? Yes.

As far as I know, she has only had one lesson in a kayak with Ang. I am not familiar with what water sports or lessons she has had other than when she is with me. She did very well. She paddled with both hands and on both sides. She stayed low in the kayak. She sailed out to sea just fine.

Once we got out of the little cove that we put in at, it got a little windy and it got a little difficult. Again, I didn’t really think there was any other option than just going out and coming back. I didn’t think to bring a tow or anything. She suggests jumping out and swimming back to shore and I was like, wait, what? This is getting serious.

I had her grab the back of my kayak and pulled her a little distance. I never pulled another kayak with a kayak, yet alone one that was a T dragging behind me. It felt like I was going nowhere in the water. But once we got back into the cove and out of the wind, she killed it again!

Now, had my conversation worked? Did she help me get the kayaks back on the car after kayaking? Weeeeellll, mostly. She wiped out on the boat ramp that was slick with moss and hit her elbow, bum, and hurt her wrists. She was tired, a little whiny. I tipped the scales and took both kayaks up the boat ramp by myself and then when she asked if the other kayakers next to us could help load our kayaks, I kind of lost it.

I not so gently reminded her that we were doing this together, just her and I. If we wanted to go kayaking, we were doing the work. Then I tied one of the knots myself to which she said, well you tied that one, can’t you tie the others? Again, not so gentle, I suggested to her that what she meant to say was, thanks mom, for tying that first knot and what more can I do to help. It’s hot. I am sweating my ass off. She says, I say what I mean. Full stop.

What happened next? Well, we are both alive AND we made it to the barn in time for her to get her horse ready for the show today. She did it. I did it. WE did it. Stay tuned for more on if and when we ever go kayaking together again.

The house is a mess and I am not so motivated to change that right now. Yesterday was First Thursday. What is a Brownrabbit to do?

I’ll tell you. Have people over anyway, go with the flow, be in the moment, and have fun. Don’t worry that there is about 6 square inches of free counter and table space combined. Let it go that we need to be outside and it’s wet everywhere. Set up a dry-ish table outside and set the food out. And then let everyone else manage themselves.

Ask for help. Then ask again. Delegate. Were were missing anything? One single thing? Nope. We had a lovely taco bar on the patio and smacked the hell out of a piñata. There were smiles and laughter. It was perfect. All I had to do was let go of my need to control everything, and what anyone might think. Even my darling Angela.

I have been pretty gentle with myself this week and still shown up for every commitment. I worked from home all week and at the baseball field on Monday. I’m not sure that much more has taken place and I’m quite fine with that. I am not talking myself into taking care of myself, or actively telling myself that I should really be doing this or that.

You want to know how to destroy a house that might have been in some order? Get married, and then go camping for a week. The carnage is incredible. I am a little surprised that we have walkways in the house. Things are strewn about everywhere. Boxes from the wedding decorations, totes from camping, laundry, food, cards, presents, and on and on. My couch spot is clear. My work computer is accessible. And I found supplies to hang the piñata.

We beat the hell out of it so much that we eventually just had to set it on outside Janet, the partition in the yard, to finish it off. Now tell me, do any of those faces seem like they might have been happier if I had worn myself out cleaning the damn house?

Oh man, what a whirlwind. So where was I? Growth? Death? Marriage? Family? Favorite people? Love?

Yes. All the above. I think that more often than not, growth comes from pain. While there was some of that, my grandmother was 93 years old for goodness sake. I don’t know when I heard of the concept, but I had done a lot of pre-grieving for my grandfather. So I pre-grieved for my grandmother as well. It wasn’t quite the same. It didn’t sit the same. He had Alzheimer’s and he really wasn’t himself. He was lost and confused and got combative in the end. She was never like that. Soft and kind till her last breath.

I had the pleasure of spending time with several family members as they decided to switch her from restorative care to hospice. This all took place in the same room at the hospital in Salina. My mother called me and let me know that she was there, and Angela and I took off the next day to see everyone.

I never experienced someone actually dying in front of me. Making the decision to ease her pain and let her pass away. She had a DNR, so when there were no signs of improvement, my dad and his brothers, my mom and aunts all made the decision. I think. I don’t know, I just showed up and stood next to her bed for as long as I could. Everyone was sitting around the room chatting. Dad went and got Cozy Burgers. It was a lazy Saturday, but our Matriarch was dying.

She was so kind until the end. She thought we were waiting for her to eat and kept saying, no, I’m fine, you go ahead and eat. I’m fine. I’m fine. I didn’t know if she was talking about food or dying. Maybe she didn’t either. Maybe she was reassuring us.

My youngest brother brought his new baby in to see her. We woke her up and she smiled at baby Cooper. We all sat around analyzing everything she said. She said, hi pumpkin and everyone was like, has she said pumpkin before? She never called anyone pumpkin before. We murmured about the room.

Aunt Louise came a bit later and put on some Lutheran hymns. It was so wonderful. I think like 2 priests came by and a cousin of grandma’s that was in town for a Lutheran convention.

My dad’s 2 younger brothers looked tired. I don’t know how long they had been there. Mom said they were trading off staying with grandma overnight. Everyone had tears. I have them now. Everyone came up to her one at a time and told her whatever they wanted to say not knowing when she would take her last breath. I never left her side so I heard a few things. Aunt Louise wanted to tell her that she would take care of Uncle Eugene. I think Uncle Dwayne told her that he would be okay too.

Even though I was sad: the pain was very acute, holding her hand, I leaned in and told her that I wasn’t sad. I was so happy that I had 43 amazing years with her. I told her it was okay to go. I told her I would be okay. We all would be okay. I thanked her for being an amazing grandmother. I thanked her for a lifetime of joy and fun and play as a child and support as an adult; even a few times of tough love. I think I saw her cry three times in my life and 2 were the result of my alcoholic actions. There was a moment with my Uncle Eugene, both of us in tears where we laughed and he told both grandma and I that we had had some rough times. My mother leaned in, tears streaming and said I would not be where I was without my uncles. She is 100% correct. It was such a healing moment. God I hope it was half as healing to anyone else in that conversation as it was for me.

I don’t know what my extended family will look like without the anchor of my grandparents, but everyone is still in Ellsworth, so I hope we can all still be a family that gathers. My folks have kind of taken over the hosting duties. They are the eldest, so we will see what happens and how I can contribute.

Angela and I visited Saturday, most of the day. I got the text the next morning during church that she had passed away. I excused myself from after church pleasantries and cried in the car. We had planned to go back that afternoon. It was all as god would have it, but little did I know god would have it all god’s way.

I assumed the funeral would have been a couple weeks out. Angela and I started talking right away about changing our minimoon to Kanopolis Lake or Wilson Lake. We got the news that the funeral was slated for Friday, the day before our wedding. I was instantly pissed. Phew, that took some doing to work through. It was a quick shift though. My mother was on the other end of the text line as I changed from anger to acceptance. She was kind and reassuring. I was so proud of her. We were doing our own decorating for the wedding and Friday was booked up with help from our friends, deliveries, and preparations for the wedding.

I went to work Monday. The plan, my plan, was to work through Thursday. There was also a lot going on at work. I had multiple trainees in progress and more starting Thursday. I let my boss know of my grandmother’s death but assured her that I would be fine to continue work through Thursday. Again, higher power had some other ideas. I found myself scattered at work and got little done. I was distracted during training. I thrive on efficiency so that felt super chaotic. My boss mention bereavement leave and I declined. But by the next morning, I texted her and let her know that I would be so grateful to be able to take some time to grieve. She accepted via text and I proceeded to cry for about the next 2 days.

I still had some decisions to make. I hope I prayed about them. My praying is strange. Instead of digging in and trying to figure out what I should be doing, I let go and allow myself to be guided. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like praying though as I never sit down and start or end a prayer in a formal way. I love a significant amount of formality in strange little ways. I like sir and ma’am. I love the formality of the way a sporting event is played. I like writing letters. I like the pomp and circumstance of a lot of things, so letting go and just allowing myself to be guided by a god that I do not understand feels, at times, like I am not praying or being guided at all. But I am. I make decisions guided by a higher power that allows for the greatest good. And I could not leave Angela or the many folks helping us with wedding preparations to go to my favorite human’s funeral on Friday.

So I actively chose to miss the funeral. I chose Angela. I chose me. I chose my vibrant living life instead of the formal burying of my most dear and beloved human. It was a hard hard hard decision but I have not regretted it for one moment. My sister-in-law was so very kind enough to share several pictures. It’s something I can never change. It’s something I will have always missed. This decision was made pretty early Tuesday morning after taking bereavement leave from work. At that time, I also did not think it would be good for me to go to the visitation that the funeral home offers. Angela had to stay at work through Thursday, so I would be on my own. I wasn’t sure it was safe for me emotionally.

After two full days of bereavement leave, that had changed. I wanted part of the formality. So I drove the 2.5 hours to Ellsworth to bid farewell to my grandmother’s human form. Upon saying goodbye to her body, I slipped my 1000 day coin in her hand and thanked her again for being so amazing.

Almost more importantly, however, was that I got to see some family that I had not seen in about 5 years, grandma’s extended family, her sister’s kids, and grandkids. We would see a lot of our cousins as children, but never kept it up as older folks. Grandma’s eldest sister had 8 kids and then husbands and wives and kids of their own. Her other sister has several kids as well, significant others, and kids. Many were in attendance. At this point in my life, many whom I don’t know at all other than by face and familiarity. Mona, Della, Alice, Bill, and Nancy were the siblings. Grandpa had 2, Geneva and Peck. The Wachs’ and the Rankers.

I also got to see all 4 of my siblings for the first time together since grandpa died. This is getting more and more common since we live in 3 different states including Hawaii. I think I probably have 2 estranged siblings at this point but only one has been upfront about it. Not that that matters. All are cordial during events like this. And everyone has their own big beautiful life to attend to.

I felt bad that I was not able to attend the actual funeral with them and experience that terrible acute pain with them. Healing happened for Nicolaus and I the next day at my wedding. We were in tears before we even hugged each other and I was in full sob by the time I was telling him how grateful he was there. Erynn was also at the wedding. Terry was on call at work and Paul was silently MIA. Different strokes for different folks. I don’t know how each is processing the events of the week.

She was dear to many, taught me mounds of lessons, and most of all, we had a ton of fun together for a really really long time. I love you forever, grandma. Love, Holly Dolly.