Wishy Washy, Flip Flop

16 years ago this week, I sat vigil by my mom’s hospital bedside.  We were told the end was near, that they could only keep her comfortable, extreme measures couldn’t help her, not even a miracle. I waited, hoped, dreading what was going to come.  The Bereavement minister who actually knew my mom for years, told us we needed to tell her it was OK for her to go.  She needed to hear from us, despite being coherent, that we supported her and that we were letting her go.  She needed to know we would be “ok” without her.  So, that is what I did, I told her it was OK to go.  Over and Over.  All-week-long.  Every morning after the Doctors made their rounds, I would head to my In-laws to shower and get cleaned up before returning back to the hospital.  In the shower I would cry, scream and sometimes vomit.  I wasn’t “OK” with her leaving.  I didn’t want to be alone, abandoned.  I begged God-My Higher Power-whoever to please let her come back to us, to continue to be our rock and glue.  But yet, when I returned to the hospital, I begged God-My Higher Power-whoever to take her, to ease her pain, to make it all over and done with.

Some may say this is mixed messages.  For me, it is the constant battle between my heart and my head.  That internal war produces feelings that change continually.  I was always fortunate enough to have a mom who said, “Feelings aren’t right or wrong, they just are.”  I always used my feelings as a guide in my decisions.  Depending on the minute, hour, day or week I am following my heart or my head.  This isn’t a Change of Heart, or Changing of my mind. This is a result of that constant battle.  There is no such thing as contradiction. It is all depending on what is winning the war at that moment.

Today I see this divergence within me in all aspects of my life.  With my son, there are morning drives to school (15-20 minute commute) that I can’t wait to push him out the car door when we arrive because we are at such odds with each others.  Then 30 seconds later, I pull over to send him a text because I don’t want our last moments to be arguing.  As we all know…you never know if something may happen.  Heart won.

A few months back, my job was eliminated.  Initially, my heart screamed in pain, but then my head took over.  I was able to scour, network and land a new job within the 7 weeks.  Being that I carry the health benefits for all of us, I couldn’t let my sadness; devastation and resentment get in the way of providing for my family. Head won.

It is common for people to look back at their education and career choices and wonder if they made the right decisions.  The best part of this reflection is realizing how much work-life we still have ahead of us, and it isn’t too late to upgrade, change or enhance your skills.  My head is telling me to get my Masters Degree and keep building upon my professional career in the corporate healthcare arena.  My heart is saying do something you are passionate about like Massage.  This battle has yet to be determined. 

The analogy of “glass half full or half empty” isn’t about positive attitude; it is a result of this heart VS head issue.  Depending on the clash, my head is feeling guilty or my heart if heavy.    In the last few years I have been told by friends and family that I flip-flop on my decisions and they can’t seem to keep up.  Please know I am not doing this to confuse you, it is just me, being caught in the moment of my heart and my head.  I don’t expect you to keep you with me, just support me.

Dear mom on Mother's Day

Dear mom,


I was blessed to have celebrated 23 years of Mother’s Days with you, but I can’t say that I remember the details of each year. Sadly, I can remember the all the years we didn’t get to share the day together. For this year, you are getting a very special gift – A Daughter-in-law! With having one son, this is the only DIL you will have. I know you would love her and the way she has mel...ted in with all of us.

I am thankful the wedding is Mother’s Day weekend because I can focus on this gift to you, and not your empty seat. I know you will be with us all day Saturday and I can’t wait to feel/hear/see the signs you send us to make your presence known. If at all possible, please help your daughters to keep dry eyes that day. Tears of Joy are so bittersweet, and they can really ruin photographs!



As always, I love & miss you.

Your “babykin”,

Kristina Robin

The Grieving House

While in high school a close friend’s dad passed away suddenly due to a heart attack. He was here one minute, the next minute he was just gone. I felt so helpless to her. What could I possible offer her? How could I support her? Shortly after that time, in a class we were told about the 5 Steps of Grieving.


1. Denial & Isolation

2. Anger

3. Bargaining

4. Depression

5. Acceptance

I was ecstatic to learn these. I figured that if I learned them, I could see what step she was in, and I would know what to expect, and then I would know when she was “through” her grieving. Oh to be 16 again and think the world was really black and white. Sigh.

It is no secret I have had loss in my life whether it was a death, a marriage, a job or even a friendship. The Steps of Grief apply to all of these losses. Recently someone going through a loss asked me, “How long will it take for me to get through this?” There is no answer. We all deal with loss in different ways. So cliché, right? Another sigh.

I like to think of the Stages of Grief as if it were a house. Each room is a step in the process. As we walk through various rooms in our house, every day, we also pass through the different stages of grief. Everyday can be different as far as what stage we are in. There isn’t a clear path of 1 through 5. Overtime, we change the cosmetic parts of our houses with paint, decorations and time we spend in the room. To me, the different stages also change over time as well. The deep depression I once felt after my mom passed away is very different than the “sad” days I may have now when I feel myself missing her more than usual.

There are times when I walk into a room and I don’t remember why I went there. Did I get there out of habit? What steered me there? Sometimes I think back to the time immediately following my mom’s death and I don’t remember how I got through some of those days. There is a memory lapse that makes me feel like it may never have happened in the first place.

I have lived in many homes since birth, at least 15. Even though I may not think of every house, at random moments something will trigger my memory of a house. In the same way, I will remember something about my mom that came out of nowhere. I can still remember the exact layout of a house when I was 3, just like I can still smell the coffee/Cert on my mother’s breath as I lay on her lap in an AA meeting.

By no means do I think the grieving process is a continuous cycle that you never get out of, like running on a hamster wheel. Grief will change, morph and age over time, just like a home.

If only the walls could talk.

Dear Mom,

Dear mom,



Well, it has happened – FINALLY. Your only son has gotten engaged! I know, there have been some close calls in the past, but this is the real deal. Your daughters couldn’t be more thrilled. It is a bittersweet moment, with you not here to see it. But just like I tell Wendy, it is just that WE wish WE could see YOU seeing HIM so happy. We know you are here, with each of us, watching our moments. I am sure you have already been watching Lynn and know so much more about her than the rest of us. Have you seen how she adores our kids? These kids flock to her with so much unconditional love, it is truly sweet. It is like she has been a missing part of this family, and completes the complex puzzle we have become. There is nothing about her that is fake, pretentious or destructive. She has a way of lifting people’s attitudes around her, empowering themselves into becoming who they deserve to be. Even Mike’s baby, Emma adores her and seeks her out when looking for her “people”.


I have held my breath for so long, when it comes to your son’s happiness and content with life. There have been times in the past when his heart has been broken and I wanted to slash out at the girl in blame or even kick him for screwing it all up. But as we all know, that no one really knows what happens behind other peoples closed doors. You once told me during one of my heartbreaks that unanswered prayers are really answering future prayers, I just didn’t know it yet. Maybe you leaving us early was part of “The Plan” for us girls to help raise Mike into his adulthood. Maybe this was just a trial run, prepping me in raising Noah.


Just as you taught me, whatever is supposed to happen, WILL happen.


I love you and I miss you. I thank you for giving us the roadmap, but not driving the car. For letting us get lost at times and yet being there to guide us onto the next path.

Thanks for continuing this journey with us. I will keep you updated. 

I don't feel good

As I am pouting about my return cold and feeling crabby about it….I am slapped with the realization that it is, JUST a cold. So trivial compared to those around me with real sicknesses and diseases. Sometimes we just need an “ah ha” moment to put things into perspective.









My symptom: My body aches.


Reality: My oldest sister was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis almost 2 years ago. Since then she has changed medications multiple times, looked into experimental treatments, been so sore she can’t get out of bed all while she works full time and is a wife, a mother, a sister, a daughter and best friend to many.


My prescription: I will take Tylenol, soak in the hot tub and not complain about my body aches.






My symptom: Embarrassingly enough, while having pneumonia and coughing constantly found myself running to the bathroom because I thought my bladder wouldn’t hold up at times.


Reality: After a few weeks of urinating what looked like Dr Pepper, my brother was diagnosed with bladder cancer. Pending surgery, he suffers from constant issues surrounding going #1 and if faced with a long battle ahead of him.


My prescription: strengthen my muscles with a smile.






My symptom: I ate too many sweets at work during a retirement party and got the shakes from too much sugar.


Reality: My stepdaughter has to count every carb before she puts it in her mouth and determine how much insulin she will need to take to offset the blood sugar levels. Every item she puts in her mouth, every time she eats.


My prescription: Make better choices about food and relish every bite.






My symptom: I can’t taste the beer I opened because I am so stuffed up.


Reality: My middle sister, my mother and my stepfather all struggle(d) with alcohol and it altered their lives immensely. They lost jobs, homes, friends and even have had family turn their backs on them.


My prescription: Don’t overindulge, and appreciate being able to have 1 and walking away.

 
My symptom: My chest hurts when I breathe.


Reality: I watched my mom take her last breath which was slow, low and rattily because she fought the fight to Emphysema and Lung Cancer. She hasn’t shared the same air with me in 14 years, or ever met my son.


My Prescription: With every breath, FEEL the life that is pouring inside of me.

Lost and Found

After my mom’s death, I would use the term – “I lost my mom”. In hindsight, I think I was the one who was really lost. She was fortunate to be somewhere better and full of healthy life.


Over the years I have seen peoples “loss”. During the last year, I watched a friend mourn her husband who died after a short battle with brain tumors. I have no idea of the waking hours she endures or the sleepless nights. My heart breaks for her and her daughters. But I don’t know that “loss” and I have not walked in her shoes.

I think I have protected my mental psyche against any future possible “losses”. I have built walls up around me, thought of the dreaded “what if” scenarios and made mental plans to address if and when they happen. I have done this in regards to my job, finances, my family, friends and my pets. But there is still one person on this Earth, that I have avoided such “what if” thoughts…my son.

I have always been over protective. I make sure sunscreen is applied, helmets are worn, doors are locked, seatbelts are on, lifejackets worn and given every possible talk to him about safety. Yes, I have created a bubble (in my head) of safeness around him. Part of my twisted mind think that if I SAY a horrible scenario, it will never happen. Like a reverse Jinx. (I never said I thought clearly!) My siblings tease me, that if anyone enters that bubble (even if it is just teasing him) or crosses me, they will suffer “the wraith of Krissy”. They are correct.

As a family we started skiing and snowboarding, even with my apprehensiveness about the safety aspect. It took me a little bit, but I trust Noah with his judgment and feel he won’t push too hard. Yes, he is a boy and “boys will be boys”, but overall he is a safe kid. When he asked to go to the Ski Club, riding on a bus with other students and snowboarding, then returning on the bus, I was nervous. But, I reminded myself that he knows his limits and it will be OK.

The day of the first ski/boarding trip I was nervous. I wondered if he would “get lost” and not get on the bus for the ride home. I fretted that he would lose his money and then not be able to eat or drink anything. I worried that “if” something happened, would he know what to do, how to ask for help. All night I kept my phone with me, but I was still on edge. I had opportunities to go out for some cocktails and I even had an opportunity to participate as a “hair model” and get some style back into my head. But I turned them all down, just “in case”. After a few hours of Wii competitions, I grabbed a drink of water. Wouldn’t you know, I missed Noah’s call to say he had been hurt? I wasn’t THERE to take his call. Automatically, I felt like I failed him and me. Evidently, Noah was boarding down a hill when an adult skier struck him from the back. Noah’s helmet was cracked, which I think was how the skiers pole broke in 2 pieces. Noah was knocked out, momentarily. That helmet saved his life.

It wasn’t until day or so after the accident that it really occurred to me, I could have “lost” Noah. That is my Achilles heel. The mind works in mysterious ways, which is probably why I couldn’t even go down the path of “what ifs” in terms of “losing” him. Even as I have “lost” someone in the past and have witnessed “loss” at unbearable degrees, my safety bubble has enclosed and blocked that scenario out of my mind.

Since Noah lives in my house half of the time, there are nights he isn’t home. Often, I walk into his room and touch his pillow, close my eyes and say good night in hopes he can somehow feel me when he is going to sleep at his dads. I will whisper the dog or cat, “Noah is coming home tonight”, just to keep his presence known in the house. He is usually gone only for a few days. Since I know it is only a few days, I can miss him but know it will be short-lived. If he weren’t wearing a helmet, what would I be whispering to the house about his return?


Over the years, I have tried to justify why I had to “lose” my mom when I was only 23. I believe this is one of those times when she was watching out for us. If she wouldn’t have been “lost” and able to be his guardian angel, I may have “lost” him. This is the only time I have found peace in her absence. Finally. Thank you, Mom, for sacrificing yourself to watch over us.

Ron, my step dad

I was blessed to have a natural father, but also a step dad. My step dad, Ron, was the one that lived in the same house as me as I grew up. Each of them has played important roles in my life, at different points. It is almost as if the two of them were in a relay race, passing the baton back and forth as to who would parent me.
From as early as I can remember, Ron was in my life, as my stepparent. The legal marriage didn’t take place until I was 10, but he was present before then. Not many men would take on a single mother with four kids spanning over 10 years. Ron did. He opened up his home to us and we moved in. More than just food and shelter, he taught me values that would shape who I was.
Ron and I had a unique relationship. Being the youngest of 4, I didn’t have the experience of living with my mom and dad, as a family, like my older siblings did. They were divorced by the time I was one year old. Maybe that is why my relationship with Ron was so unique. He was immediately kind to me assumed the position of being a father figure.
I had never traveled outside the bordering states of Wisconsin, until at age 13, Ron took my mom, sister and I across the country to California to visit his daughter. We stopped at National Parks and scenes that every American should see in their lifetime. There was Yellowstone Park, the Old Faithful Geyser, The Four Corners, Wall Drug, Mesa Verde National Park, the Grand Canyon and countless other landmarks. We even stopped in Las Vegas for a few days. While mom and Ron did the casinos, my sister and I walked the Strip (which in 1987 was dramatically different than today) and lounged at the pool. We spent a few days in Los Angeles with trips to Venice Beach and Disney Land. Ironically, the day Ron passed away I spoke of this trip, in detail, to my husband, son and step kids. I vocalized my desire to take our kids on this same journey (minus Las Vegas!).
But more than just giving me the opportunity to travel, Ron was a father figure to me. With his heavy involvement as a President of the local AFL-CIO Union, he taught me what true Democracy was and how to achieve it. He was a member of the Madison Police and Fire Commission, which he used as a catalyst to encourage me to be a service provider, in ANY capacity I could. He stressed the more you give the more you will receive. He took me to my first “job” when I was 12. He volunteered at the Badger Football home games, doing the chains on the sidelines. He arranged for me to work the concessions, walking up and down the stadium steps yelling out “hot dogs, get your hot dogs here”. When I was initially embarrassed by the 20% commission paying job, he told me I should never shy away from a job because of what others would think, because in the end, it would only be my hard work and determination that would put $$ in my pocket.
Ron worked at “Ma Bell” for his career years. You may know this company as Wisconsin Bell or Ameritech. He was regimented in his schedule. He got up, showered, had breakfast, left for work, returned from work at the same time Monday – Friday. He was of the generation that you put your time in with a company and you will earn steady raise increases and job security. Thank God he retired before the 2000’s when the economy tanked and those valued employees were seen as a financial liability. I always valued his longevity and dedication to his employer and community service.
Every Christmas, Ron would address holiday cards to the Mailman, the Garbage person and the paperboy. He would give cash, as a thank you for their service. To this day, I do the same.
When it came time to think of college, I didn’t think it would be possible to go. But, Ron encouraged me and told me it would only help my future. He even assisted me in applying for grants and scholarships, which I ended up winning one through the Labor Union.
It has been said that Ron was “old fashion” or “stubborn” in his thoughts of a home, roles and responsibilities, work ethic and parenting. But for me, it was the foundation I needed to get through my youth with structure. When Ron’s stubbornness would subside along with my youthful defiance, there was always a hug from him, to assure me everything was OK and that it was OK to have different viewpoints.
I would be missing a key point if I didn’t mention that my mom met Ron through AA. Growing up with my mom and step dad was growing up with the Higher Power (HP) as my “god”. Ron referred to our powerlessness to addictions, and by asking our HP for guidance, we would eventually get an answer. Our religion was the 12 Steps. Our congregation was anyone touched by alcoholism.
When it came to primary discipline, asking permission or basic day-to-day life necessities, my mom was the primary go to person. Ron would never interfere, unless I completely overstepped my limits, which was rarely since Mom and Ron had a very open parental relationship with me. Almost like a fixture, you would find Ron sitting in his chair, in the living room watching TV, reading the paper or napping. I knew I could always sit on the couch and open up conversation and he would be attentive. It is then that we talked politics, school, National news and every other topic I would bring up.
I am not idolizing Ron as perfect. No one is perfect as a person or as a parent. But for me, he served a purpose, and helped form the definition as a stepfather to me. Thank you, mom, for bringing Ron into my life. Now that I myself am a stepparent, I reflect often on the core values he instilled upon me. What do I want to teach Jake and Cortney? What messages is my husband giving Noah? Step parenting is an endless journey. I am thankful to Ron for giving me the foundation to which I can build my own role as a stepparent on.
The baton has passed for the last time, as Ron has entered the eternal life in Heaven. He will be greeted by my mom, who will show him the importance of reaching down to Earth, every so often, and give their loved ones signs they are around us all the time. I am awaiting one of those signs. But if they are as subtle as the way he taught me values and goals, I may not see them so easily – but walk through life with them swirling around me all the time.