When I got married, I dropped my maiden name for a variety of reasons, the most trite of which was that it sounded funny as a blended name. It didn’t sound as natural as other hyphenated friends’ names like Chicas-Castillo or Morgan-Cox. It sounded clunky and odd. So, I dropped it.

I’m not famous, by any stretch of the imagination, but I have developed a professional career under my married name. Everyone who has met me in nearly the last decade-and-a-half knows me by that name. When I started my master’s degree in 2006, some friends joked that next thing they knew, I’d start signing my name with my middle initial and maiden name like some pretentious professor, just to make it longer and more exotic. Well, I didn’t … at least, not then.

After my brother died and I obtained custody of my nephew-sons in 2009, I decided to informally reintroduce my maiden name. I took baby steps, like changing my email signature and eventually signing letters with both names. When I started my doctoral studies in 2010, I almost quit doing it because I remembered the teasing conversations about turning into a snooty academic-type.

My driver’s license expired last fall, and when I went to renew it (had to get a new photo this go-round, so I couldn’t renew by mail), I asked the clerk about adding my maiden name to my license. She said that I could only do it if I had another form of ID (SS card or passport) with that name. So, I didn’t fiddle with it.

Well, I had to go to the Social Security office this week for other matters, and I decided to look into it while I was there. The clerk seemed a little confused by my request, but I explained that I wasn’t dropping my name, just adding back in the old one. So, as of this morning, I have officially re-incorporated the use of my maiden name into my legal name. I decided not to hyphenate it, just list it as two names.

I realize it’s just a formality, since I’ve been using both names in written correspondence for quite a while, but it felt like the right thing to do — not only to honor my brother, but also to demonstrate to the boys (though they won’t understand it all for years to come) that they belong here, with me, in our family, and that they are always part of me.

Today is my brother’s 34th birthday. It’s hard to believe that this is the fourth birthday we’ve celebrated in his memory, rather than together. We talk about him often, which I think helps all of us, to varying degrees.

Just the other day while we were watching the Olympics, I made a comment about the gymnasts’ and swimmers’ strong arms and backs (not that I was, ahem, paying too close attention! 😉 ) But, I digress. What was I saying? Oh, yes – athletes. I asked the boys if they thought any of those guys on TV had 17″ biceps like Nathan had. We speculated that some probably did.

Then, No. 4 gave me a once-over (as I lounged on the couch in my frumpy PJs, looking the complete opposite of an athlete) and asked, “So, Mom – do you have 17″ biceps?” I laughed and said that I didn’t think so, but I had not bothered to measure. Then, the pathetic thought crossed my mind that if I did have 17″ biceps, it wouldn’t all be muscle mass!

On that note, Happy Birthday to my body-building, smack-talking, uber-geek, little/big brother! I love you & miss you.

I won tickets from the local rock station to the Trespass America Festival concert last night. (<< In case that comes as a surprise to you, I have eclectic tastes; what can I say?)

I got a pair of tickets, so I took my 17yo godson with me. He’s much cooler than me, as you can well imagine, 😉  and although he sat with me for a little while, he pretty much stayed down on the floor with the rambunctious crowd while the old lady sat in a real seat with discretely-placed cotton balls in her ears. (The cotton balls were perfect, because I was still able to enjoy the music without suffering ill effects later.)

The opening band took the stage at 5pm, and the headline band didn’t wrap up till about 11pm. (It was a 45-min drive home, so I needed a cup of coffee this morning!) All in all, seven bands performed. It was loud and raucous and awesome. My knee was bothering me off & on, so it was nice that I had a place to sit. (LOL – I really do sound like an old lady!)

I know a heavy metal concert isn’t normally the venue you might think of for melancholy introspection, but I missed my brother so much last night. He would have loved the concert, and I would have loved being there with him. I wore one of his t-shirts, though, so it was kinda like he was there. Ok, not really, but it seemed like the thing to do.

I didn’t think to take pics of every band, but here are several:

Five Finger Death Punch drummer, Jeremy Spencer, won Metal Hammer’s drummer award, so he showed off a bit, and it was awesome. I also really liked that they did a military tribute and ran a slideshow of their concert tour with the deployed armed forces overseas.

Killswitch Engage was my godson’s fave band, but I had a difficult time watching the performance b/c the strobes hurt my eyes. (Yeah, yeah – I’m an old lady. I think we’ve established that fact. 😉 ) Funny thing was that @kseofficial retweeted my snarky comment about the strobe lights. Heehee

By the time Trivium took the stage, the floor was really filling up.

One of my fave bands (Pop Evil) of the concert, because they actually sang, not just screamed.

It’s hard to tell from the photo, but the God Forbid guitarist (Doc Coyle, if I’m not mistaken), has very nice arms. Just sayin’.

There’s something I’ve been wanting to write about for a while now, and I’ve hesitated because I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. (Plus, I should be working on my research paper that is due in ~2 weeks, but what’s one more day of procrastination?? O.o )

I read an article in preparation for my new job – which is starting off great, btw! – about family members (in particular, parents) of deployed service members. One of the traits that researchers have discovered such parents to exemplify is anticipatory grief. In my understanding, the essence of this phenomenon is that the parents mentally cope with the prospect of their son or daughter not returning home safely by slowly (or piecemeal) grieving their loss, as if it had already happened, or was imminent.

When I first read that, it struck me as brash, but then I realized that I have done the exact same thing as a spouse of a service member. If I told you how many nightmares I’ve had of all the what-ifs that could happen, you might have me committed. It’s like my brain has thought through countless scenarios, so that if one of them happens, then it won’t catch me so off-guard. (TMI alert, but each time in my dreams, I pass out or throw up on the front porch when the uniformed service members show up to tell me the news.)

All that is to say, I can see how parents of grown children who are serving in the military go through similar thought processes to cope with their son or daughter’s deployment.

But, it got me to thinking more …

I do the same thing with the kids.

Experiencing the death of my brother was, by far, the worst thing that has ever happened in my entire life. I have attended more funerals (I have a very large family) than I can even recollect, so it isn’t death that bothers me so much. I suppose it’s the suddenness of his accident, the close relationship that we shared and the earth-quaking ripple effect that his loss had on my life. It’s different when an elderly loved one dies; you miss them, but you reconcile with your heart/mind that it was inevitable.

Sometimes I find that I experience anticipatory grief with the boys. (This is the part where I hesitated to share, b/c you might worry about me.) Seriously, though – with every near-miss, I experience a split-second, graphic, imaginary scenario of what could have been. In that moment, my stomach churns, and my heart beats heavily, and I “feel” as if it actually happened. When a child gets separated from me (at Schlitterbahn, at the movie theater …), I try not to panic as my mind flies off at 100 mph about what-if they are gone forever?

I remind myself that God does not give us a spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7), and yet grief seems to have become so prevalent in my life that it’s my go-to emotion. I want to trust that all of my loved ones are – and will be – ok/safe/healthy/happy, but life isn’t always candy and roses.

I used to subscribe to the theology that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, and the happy/pleasant/obstacle-free path must be his will. Yet, if we are truly to become more like Christ, then how can we do that without experiencing suffering? I don’t think that God wants us to live miserable lives – and I try to be quick to count my blessings – but I also don’t think that the easy, painless way is necessarily his preferred way. There are things we can only learn from being broken down to the very core of who we are.

Anticipatory grief may just be a coping mechanism to help me deal with the loss of my brother … who knows — perhaps so … but it also reminds me that sometimes there isn’t a darn thing I can do about what happens to me (or those I love), so I’d rather walk in reality than try to float among the clouds and pretend like pain and grief don’t exist.

Someone once told me that I have “extraordinary coping skills.” Perhaps I’m just jaded and have become more fatalistic than I ever imagined I would be.

I’m linking up this week with The MOB Society: Let’s Hear it for the Boys. What a blessing to get to know other moms of boys!

As parents, we encourage our kids to hang around with people who are positive influences. Is any parent really pleased when a kid makes friends with a trouble-maker? (Provided our kid isn’t the one being a trouble-maker – eeek – but, that’s a post for another day.) Unfortunately, not all of the bad influences are other kids, and not all can be avoided. If you’ve experienced a nasty custody battle, then you understand where I’m going with this scenario … just because someone contributed DNA to a child does not make them a good influence on the kid’s life.

This month marks three years since my nephew-sons officially joined our family unit. There have been challenging times, to be certain, as all of us worked through our own grief at the loss of my brother and adjusted to a new family dynamic. The boys love each other as brothers; in fact, they will correct anyone who refers to them as cousins anymore. I’ve overheard them say on numerous occasions, “Well, we used to be just cousins, but now we’re brothers.”

That layer of my heart that still aches each and every day because I miss my brother so much … it feels warmer, stronger, fuller when the boys reaffirm our family – unprompted! – in that way.

I’ll spare you the details, but an email conversation yesterday sent my blood pressure to a rolling boil and made me want to instinctively protect the boys from the negative influences of people who think they can waltz in and out of their lives on a whim. I wish I could block their ears, guard their hearts and shield their minds. (I can’t, but the Lord can.)

Necklace & bracelets compliments of my personal jewelers — yes, I wore them to work today!

When we got home from kids’ church yesterday evening, the boys surprised me with handmade cards and bracelets (plus one necklace) that they created for Mother’s Day. I don’t know if there is anything more delightful than receiving a handmade gift. The children’s minister called later in the evening and told me that she was impressed with how diligently they all worked on their crafts and cards. It made me feel very special.

Although each of the gifts were wonderful, one of the cards brought tears to my eyes, because it wiped up all the mess that I had had to deal with earlier in the day and reminded me that what really matters is that they feel loved … safe … home.

He wrote: “I’m glad I have you. Because you bles and love me. I love you my wonderful mother.”

Lord, I need wisdom to deal with the unwanted influences in my children’s lives. Please guard their hearts and fix their eyes and ears on you. Shield their minds from poisonous words and poisonous people. Help me know how to raise them to become young men who are radically in love with you and passionately pursue their purpose in life to honor you. Thank you for allowing me to be their Mom.