Let's Get the Band Back Together

Ron here...

Frankly, I feel a little strange recounting the last few days, but I know it's important to a lot of people, so here it goes...

This week for me was mostly about playing in the worship band. Tuesday, Tim Spransy and I finally nailed down the set list and we scrambled to figure out keys and get charts ready. We normally try to get those done much earlier, but life happens sometimes. We rehearsed with the full band on Wednesday night. I felt good going into the rehearsal since I had spent quite a bit of time for two days learning the songs. A big chunk of that time I focused on Maybe I'm Amazed. I studied MacCartney's singing approach to the song and tried to reflect his style as best I could. MacCartney does not sing very loud on the recording. His high parts aren't full on falsetto like Roy Orbison, but his head voice is far from full out screaming. It was a big departure from my normal singing style, which is pretty loud. I actually enjoyed learning it that way because I felt like I was stretching myself trying something new as a singer. After the first run through of it on Wednesday night however, it was not working. Not even close. I decided to do it full out, pretty much on the brink of screaming at times. It was better, but the whole thing was pretty rough since I had not rehearsed singing it this way.

I normally don't practice the worship set on Thursday or Friday to give myself a break, and I stayed true to that this week.

Friday night, I brought the girls over to Mike and Carol's for a sleepover with their cousins who were in from Minnesota. They were so excited and I was glad to get a break for the weekend knowing how much time I'd be devoting to the worship music. On our way over to the house, I got a text from a friend about another friend. His wife was in the hospital with complications during surgery to remove tumors. After getting the girls setup for the night, the first friend and I went to the hospital to pay a visit. It was a strange experience, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I left hoping our visit had helped in even the slightest way, and I later read a message that made me believe it did. There were lots of thoughts that went through my head during that visit, but the one that stands out the most was when I was standing in the hall with the friend I went with and the one who's wife was in ICU. The husband was giving us an update when we heard a strange noise from down the hall and he pretty much stopped in mid-sentence to check on his wife. It turned out the noise didn't have anything to do with her, but in that moment I vividly recalled being in the hospital with Beccee and doing the same thing. There is this hyper-awareness you get into and any little noise or movement can make you run down the hall or shoot up out of your bed. It's almost a sense of panic, but not quite there. Then again, maybe it is panic, but you're in that state for so long that you can't recognize it for what it is. Anyway, our visit was pretty short and we prayed together and I felt like I had done whatever it was I was supposed to do.

Later that night I met up with another friend to see Marcell play in Pewaukee. I didn't mention my earlier hospital visit to this friend because I really wanted to just hang out and have a good time, and I knew that story wouldn't be conducive to that goal. The rest of the night was a lot of fun and I got home late. Okay, really late. Despite the hour, I had a surplus of energy that evidently wanted to be released in the form of grieving. There is something about being home alone knowing I won't be interrupted by the girls and knowing that I won't wake them up that seems to lift certain limits on how intense my emotion will get. I was really upset for a little while, but eventually went to sleep. I know there are a lot of people thinking right now that I could/should have called them, but sometimes I have to go through this stuff myself. This was one of those times.

My voice was feeling rough on Saturday. Since the girls weren't around, I was free to go over the songs all day. I reworked how I was singing Maybe I'm Amazed and I was feeling really good about it. Saturday's afternoon band rehearsal went really well with the first four songs and then we got to Maybe I'm Amazed. The first time through, the band sounded great, but I was horrible. I could actually sense the concern of pretty much everyone in the room. I even briefly thought about asking to make a key change, but I knew it was too late for that. While we were on a short break, I prayed for help pulling the song together. When we got back from our break, we immediately tried it again and this time was much better and I got a little confidence back. When we played it for the 6 PM service, my voice cracked a bit, but it wasn't bad. I thanked God for His help while I drove out of the parking lot.

I attended Carol's birthday party in Pewaukee and visited with the girls for a while. Getting Millie settled and in bed was tough because she didn't want me to leave. We finally agreed on me tucking her into bed one last time and me promising that I would not leave the house until she was asleep. This was a perfectly acceptable compromise for her.

My plan was to go home, maybe watch a movie and get to bed early. Earlier than Friday anyway. Instead of watching a movie, I came up with the bright idea of watching the video Beccee left for the girls in case she died. It's about 30 minutes in length. Watching it feels like much longer and much shorter both at the same time. I had trouble even looking at the screen most of the time and I got really upset again, but I kept hearing this little voice inside my head telling me not to take it too far and do any more damage to my voice. It was actually kind of funny. Eventually, I calmed down and did watch a Will Ferrel movie. I fell asleep after 15 minutes.

I got up fairly early Sunday morning knowing I was going to need some time to warm up vocally. My voice was pretty rough from the previous day or two, but overall, I felt pretty good. I ran through things on my guitar first and sang in the car on my way in. Then I prayed again.

The beginning of the worship set went really well. Becky Sharpe sounded awesome as she usually does. Tim's e-bow was sweet and the rest of his playing right on the money. Brandon, who is a pro on drums, was in the pocket along with John Wheeler on bass, another pro. Brenda on keys was her typical wonderful self. Four songs in and we came to Maybe I'm Amazed.

The first verse is a little nerve-racking, because it's so naked. Piano and vocal. But by the end of it, I felt okay. The chorus is tougher though. I felt my voice cracking, but it was mostly holding together and for whatever reason (see that part earlier where I prayed), I wasn't worried. From there, I didn't think too much about anything and just played and sang the song. It was really fun, especially during Tim's guitar solo where I get to palm-mute the rhythm part through my modeled Mesa Boogie amp. Mmmmm... crunchy.

When the song ended, I was glad that it had went well and I felt calm. However, the way the congregation reacted with their applause triggered a wave of emotion in me, and I as soon as I got back stage, I lost it and started to cry. Humbled and overwhelmed, I pulled it together after a few minutes and kept it together the rest of the day.

Please say a prayer for my friend with cancer who is in the hospital for surgery. She needs your prayers for healing, peace and strength. Her family needs your prayers for peace, strength and comfort in Jesus' name.

Thank you,

Ron

The Dreams Are Back

The dreams are back.

Beccee and I were separated again. We were outside and she was coming to pick up the girls. She was talking to her brother Chip about meeting up later for lunch. She was going to pick up a pizza. Without even looking at me she started to walk away. I said "that's it? We can't even talk about this?" I can't remember if she responded or not, but either way, that was the end of it and I woke up shortly after.

About an hour later, the girls were playing in the living room downstairs while I was upstairs putting some clothes away in their room. Our morning routine went pretty well and they were dressed and ready and had some extra time. As I finished hanging some things in the closet and shut the door, a snow globe on a bookshelf just behind the door started playing music. I was about two feet away from it and it was just for a couple seconds, but it definitely happened. I remember thinking that the door shutting must have triggered it. Then I thought about it again. Now, I've never been one to believe in the paranormal, but it was nice to think for a moment that maybe it was Beccee saying good morning. Ten seconds later, I walked out of their room into my bedroom and I thought I heard a piano playing the exact same chord the snow globe had ended on. I stood there asking myself whether I had really heard it when I realized the girls were now playing the piano downstairs.

I told Emma and Millie what had happened and we all agreed that it was mommy saying good morning to us.

Just a reminder about the Fight for Air Climb fundraiser on March 20. Beccee's Y-chick friends have a group doing this in honor of Beccee. Their group is called "The Y Chicks Love Beccee". Sara Smith is also planning on doing this. I have not decided if I'll participate yet.

http://www.active.com/fitness/milwaukee-wi/fight-for-air-climb-milwaukee-2010

One more reminder. I'm back playing at Crosspoint Community Church this weekend. Terry will be speaking and we have a great band line-up with some really good songs, including one by Paul McCartney. If you want to know which one, you'll have to be there Saturday at 6 pm, or Sunday at 9:15 am or 11 am.

A Really Tough One to Read

Ron here...

... sort of.

I stumbled on this entry in Beccee's mommy journal this morning. Consider yourself warned as you might find yourself getting very emotional reading this.

Thursday, Nov 2nd, 2006

To My Girls:

Mommy, Nana and Aunty Jennie are on a plane waiting to take off on a weekend to NYC. I'm nervous - I don't like to fly, even though I know everything will be fine, i'm still such a fatalist when I fly. You came in to the terminal to say bye-bye and I hated to see you gallop away from me with daddy to say goodbye.

A lot has gone on since I last wrote to you. We've been enjoying fall - going to the YMCA again - playing hide and seek with Daddy.

You're both so tall! Completely potty-trained. Sassy. Gorgeous!

Nana's sister, Aunt Cheryl died last month. She was young, 54. She died during recovery from anesthesia, a knee surgery. The hospital probably screwed-up - it was very sad. Nana was very sad.

It made me think a lot about where we all are and what would happen if I died. Would you remember me? Would I be missed? Would I leave a ripple in my time? Would my funeral be so sad - or happy? So, as morbid as this seems, and as "ever the hostess" I can be - I want a few things in writing to be followed through as best as possible.

Please let my funeral be all about music and memories and photos and poetry.

Ask my friends to sing and play.

I would love Amy Colonna to read or write a poem.

Tell Lisa Colonna that it's okay to laugh. She gets nervous laughter at inappropriate times.

I know I will live to be 90 so none of this should matter. But in my own crazy mind - I feel better getting it off my chest and saying these things.

Play lots of: Nina Simone, Amy Grant, Earth Wind & Fire, Stevie Wonder, Hoobastank, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Prince, Allanis, Keith Green, Linda Perry, Luther Vandross.

Tell loud stories about my crazy life, laugh loud, cry loud. Kiss your daddy a lot.

Toast each other and your loved ones with excellent red wine and set aside a glass for me.

I want music with a mix of all my favorites playing at the church/funeral home and party at all times.

(The entry cut off there. It was probably time for departure.)

Emma Gets a Little Help

Ron here...

I know I don't need to start these updates with that statement, but I'm not ready to stop yet. I'm not ready to take off my wedding ring, or my Love for Life wristband yet either. I still write "Ron and Rebecca Kujawa" on the offering envelope at church too.

On Friday night, I dropped off the girls for a sleepover at Aunt Ruth and Uncle Kevin's house. Mill started getting upset as I was getting ready to leave. She wanted to sleep over, but she wanted me to stay overnight too. After a brief discussion, I told her she should have dinner and hang out for awhile and if she was still feeling sad later on, she could call me on the phone. As I made my way to the door, she was starting to cry and get that sad look on her face that I've gotten used to seeing. She didn't break down though. She hugged and kissed me while she was fighting back her tears, but she let me go without causing a scene. I know it can't be easy for her, especially with Beccee gone now, but she let me go anyway. As I was driving home, I realized how strong she is becoming. You can see in her eyes how painful some of these things are for her, but she sucks it up and does it anyway.

When we had Millie's birthday party at the hospital, there was a point where Millie got really sad and was hanging on Beccee. Millie told Beccee she was sad and that she wanted her to come home. Beccee's reply was "buck up, kiddo." She's bucking up every single day.

Emma and I got ready to do her homework last night, but just as we started, Beccee's sister Meg called. I asked Emma to get started on her reading, because she's pretty good doing that on her own, and I went into the living room to talk on the phone. Emma had two books to read before she got to her math homework, which was four blank clocks with a time written under them. She was supposed to draw in the clock hands to indicate the correct time. She usually needs a little help with that kind of assignment, and since one of the problems was 10:15, I knew she'd need some assistance. Well, I lost track of time talking to Meg (hmmmm... sounds like someone I know) and Emma comes walking into the living room with her math homework. It was already done and her answers were completely right! I was amazed. Emma just had a big smile on her face and said that mommy helped her do her homework.

Ron

PS I'm playing and singing at church this weekend. See you there. Crosspoint Community Church in Oconomowoc.

PPS(?) Fight for Air is coming up on March 20. It is a fundraiser for the American Lung Association where people will be climbing 1034 steps at the US Bank Center in downtown Milwaukee. More information at the link below.

http://www.active.com/fitness/milwaukee-wi/fight-for-air-climb-milwaukee-2010

Valentine's Day Weekend

Ron here...

I can't believe it's Wednesday night already! I did not mean to wait so long to update, but it's amazing how little time there actually is in a day.

Valentine's Day weekend was okay for us, but there were some pretty rough moments for me and for Millie. Probably more so for me, but Millie was certainly hurting. Our family has never been really big on Hallmark holidays. Cards, flowers, candy and that's about it. It was hard not to think about Beccee though. I thought a lot about the letter I wrote her last Valentine's Day and the one I wrote in December for her birthday. I had promised I'd write by this Valentine's Day, and I kept my promise. It was a pretty brutal time writing that letter. I wish I could say I felt better afterward, but I can't. The last time I remember a genuine sense of relief after crying was the night of the Gerard/Benet concert. Beccee and I had a minor fight and I ended up pretty upset about our whole situation. I remember telling her all I wanted was to feel like a normal family again. After we talked, and after I had cried it out, things felt better. They weren't actually better. I guess it helped at the time not knowing the difference.

Church on Sunday was much better for me than the previous Sunday. I didn't have that sense of surprise seeing the wedding scene on the stage this time, and I decided to sit stage left, up front where I never usually sit. It wasn't a conscious decision to try to hide, but it may have been a subconscious one. Marcel had joined the worship band as a special guest and I really wanted to sit close to him. Marcel and Beccee had been friends for many years and played together in bands. It was really cool to see Marcel up on stage at "our" church. (I know it's not our church, but you know what I mean.) It made me smile to know that Marcel was there because of Beccee and I knew how happy that would have made her. Then I started to picture Beccee standing next to me and I could see her as clear as if she really was standing there. While the band was playing music, she was smiling, singing, clapping and dancing along. When the song was over, she was cheering and doing that obnoxiously loud finger-in-the-mouth whistle that she would do. Man, that was crazy loud! It was hard for me to keep it together standing there thinking of her.

When the worship music set was finished, I thought about sneaking out of the sanctuary and hanging out in the green room with the musicians. I'm not really sure why I stayed put, especially after the week before and how uncomfortable I was, but I didn't move. I figured I'd ride this service out by myself. Listening to Pastor Terry's sermon was nowhere near as difficult this time, which was nice. About fifteen minutes into the sermon, Marcel found me and sat down in the seat next to me. I felt like someone had given me a Valentine's Day present.

Later that afternoon, I went to pick up the girls at Beccee's mom and dad's house where they spent a few hours. At someone's suggestion, I thought it would be a good idea to have the girls make Valentine's cards for Beccee that we could tie to balloons and let them fly to the sky. We had to trim some of the weight off the homemade Valentine's cards to get them to lift off even with six balloons. It was starting to get dark and chilly, but the three of us went outside with Mike and Carol close by taking some pictures. We said a quick prayer and let the balloons go. They started going up, but sadly a draft took them into a very tall tree where they got stuck about 40 feet off the ground. Millie started to cry, but she wasn't even looking up. She was actually starting cry before the balloons even touched the tree. She was still sad about Beccee. So was I. So was Emma.

On Monday, I distracted myself by fixating on dumping the minivan for a Mazda3. It was a great time-and-energy-consuming task to locate cars that were close enough for me to drive to and to figure out what I could reasonably expect to get for a trade on the minivan. Tuesday morning I drove up to Neenah, test drove a car and drove away with it a couple hours later. The price was two thousand dollars cheaper than any other comparable car within 75 miles and they gave me what I wanted in trade value. The dealership had a contemporary Christian radio station playing in the show room, which I thought was pretty cool. I dealt with the owner's son. He had called his dad to get approval on the trade in value of the minivan, but the guy wasn't answering his phone. While waiting for that call back, our smalltalk somehow turned into me recapping the last eight months. So, there I am in a used car dealership telling a complete stranger (who is trying to sell me a car) about my wife getting lung cancer, dying, and how I'm trying to take care of two six year old girls. I was quite sure Beccee was laughing her butt off in heaven knowing exactly how unlikely it is to find me talking to anyone, much less a used car salesman in Neenah, Wisconsin.

Anyway, Emma and I really like the car. It's small, relatively quick and sporty. Not as fast as the BMW 540i 6-speed, but way more fun than driving the living room, I mean, minivan. Millie has expressed her displeasure with the transaction. I don't think she was ready for mommy's car to go away. She's doing okay though and she is excited that instead of the built-in DVD player the van had, she is going to inherit mommy's iPod Nano that plays video.

Well since I got my obligatory Apple product mention in (someone's gotta get that stock going after the iPad announcement), I'll call it a night here.

Love and blessings,

Ron

The Tattoo Party

Ron here...

It looked to me like the tattoo party was a huge success. Lots of tattoos were done, lots of people hanging out having food, drinking wine, listening to live music, smiling and laughing. Emma and Millie got henna tattoos and got to stay up late. They had a blast while they were there. Before and after they were there is a different story.

Millie is having a couple of very tough days. For quite a few weeks now, she has not had any major breakdowns. We don't ignore Beccee, but Millie just has not gotten really sad about things lately. Even with weekly sessions with the counselor and me asking the girls every few days if they want to talk about Beccee. They seemed to have gotten into something resembling a normal routine and that's been okay.

We stopped at home yesterday right after school before heading out to an early dinner at Mia's with my mom, dad and sister. Yesterday was the 100th day of school and the kids did projects and celebrated the event. Millie looked at me and started to cry. She had made a necklace out of yarn and a piece of paper she had colored to commemorate 100th day. She said she made it for mommy and she was sad she couldn't give it to her and she wanted me to wear it instead. Of course I did, but Millie kept crying. A lot. For the next half hour or more, Millie sat on my lap just being sad. I didn't have any words of wisdom for her, so mostly I told her I knew it hurt and that I loved her. I asked if there was something about mommy she wanted to talk to me about. There wasn't.

Once she finally calmed down I told her we should get going so we wouldn't be too late for dinner. I also told her that if she didn't want to go to the party, we could stay home. She told me she definitely wanted to go to the party. Emma was pretty cool this whole time, but she was getting anxious to go. She pretty much hung out in the kitchen. Every once in a while I heard her mutter things under her breath like, "I wish we could go to the party."

After we gathered some pictures of Beccee to take along, because Millie had asked if we could do that, the girls and I got ready and got in the minivan. Millie started crying again. She wanted to sit next to me while we were driving, but I explained why we couldn't do that. She didn't get upset about my answer, but she was still sad and crying. Then she asked if we could listen to mommy sing on the radio. I had my iPhone with most of Beccee's recordings on it, so I played it over the radio. Some of the songs the girls had never heard before, and I hadn't heard in a very long time. It appeared to be comforting to Millie. Not so much for me.

Dinner started off a little rough. Millie was still sad, and Emma got upset that Millie got to bring in her stuffie, and Emma didn't. I explained to Emma that I wasn't aware Millie was bringing in her stuffie, and that if Emma had wanted to, it would have been okay, but I wasn't going back to the car, blah, blah, blah... After the third or fourth time through that conversation, and the promise that Kinzey could come to the tattoo party, Emma settled down.

The girls were great at the tattoo party. They got to play, hang out with their adult cousins in a grown-up bar, have kiddie cocktails, get tattoos and act like big shots. They loved that I carried them out to the car without their jackets on. The henna tattoos were still drying.

Before I could put the car in Drive, Millie was upset again and saying she missed mommy. She was sad for the ride home. She was sad getting into the house and getting ready for bed. She was sad going to bed. She was sad when she woke up in the middle of the night and came into my bed. She was sad when she woke up. She was sad getting dressed.

She asked if she could wear something of mommy's today, so we went upstairs and I found one of Beccee's tank tops that I thought Millie could wear over a long-sleeved shirt. It worked out pretty good. She picked out a shirt with some hearts (for Valentines day, and because she loves mommy). With Beccee's tank top over the shirt, it kind of looks like a dress. Black leggings and one of Beccee's necklaces finished off the ensemble. Then I noticed that each article of clothing had rhinestones or sequins on it. Millie liked that because mommy liked sparkly things. This is very true.

From that point until I got them dropped off at school, Millie didn't cry anymore. I hope she has a wonderful day at school with Valentines and candy and friends. But I'm keeping my phone close by in case the school calls.

I can't even describe how difficult it is to watch your six-year old grieve. The word helpless is not strong enough. I know that everyone has to experience their own pain. We can try to be there for one another to lend support, but in the end, no one can take on that pain. Even if you're six and your mommy died of lung cancer.

We're going to be okay. I know that. And most of the time, we get through our regular routine pretty good, we laugh, watch tv, play games, have play dates, hang out with friends and do all the things normal people do. We don't lie on the floor in the fetal position crying our eyes out everyday. We sleep at night. We get up in the morning and get our day going. We don't stay up all night or sleep during the day. For the most part, it's pretty astonishing how well we've gotten back to a regular routine. The memory of Beccee is with me all the time though. Probably with the girls too, although I can't begin to understand their thought process in this. If I was trying to make a point in this last paragraph, I've forgotten where I was going. I guess I was trying to say that most of our time, things are pretty normal, but a wave of grief, in the form of anger or sorrow, can smash your day apart like a bowling ball through a windshield.

So this is Valentine's weekend coming up. I really don't know what I'm going to do about that. I had thought about helping out at church on Saturday night. They have a comedian doing a show and I thought it would be a good distraction to hang out there and move chairs around or whatever and maybe watch the guy, because I've seen him on TV and he is hilarious. But then I thought about seeing all these couples at a Valentines event. And I'm guessing much of the comedian's material will be about couples and love and blah, blah, blah. I don't think I want to do that. I'll either make dinner for the girls, or take them out for a nice dinner. Well, "nice" to a six-year old.

Last year for Valentine's Day, I wrote Beccee a love letter. I knew she wanted one for a long time, and since we were doing what we could to save money at the time, I thought I'd give it a shot. The letter was pretty short and it took me a long time to get started, but it turned out okay. I gave it to Beccee in our bedroom, where she read it. I left the room. I cried when I wrote it and I didn't want to cry in front of her when she read it. She told me how much she loved the letter and she folded it up and put it on her nightstand next to her bed where it stayed until mid-December of last year, when it was brought to her bed at the hospital. I read it to her one day. She told me again that she loved it and that she read it all the time. I didn't know that.

For her birthday on December 17, I wrote her another love letter. This one was longer and since I had been doing the CaringBridge updates, my writing chops were better. I was lucky enough to read that letter to her on one of her really good days in those last few weeks. I made it to the last of five pages before I cried. She told me I was good at writing love letters. At the end of that letter I promised I would write her again on Valentine's Day. I have not been able to do it yet, but I promised, so that's what I'll be working on this weekend.

I sincerely hope you all have a wonderful Valentine's Day and that you spend it with someone you love. God bless you all, and if you find a little time in your day, please pray for a little peace and comfort, especially for my Millie Rose.

Ron