Bitch slap

Dreams about sex with my husband are glorious but few and far between.

Waking up and getting a cold hard slap to reality is brutal.

Nothing's been easy

It has been a while since I've been to this space. Partly by design, but mostly by default. The last 6 weeks have been brutal. Somebody recently asked me how things are going and the best thing I could come up with was, "Nothing's been easy."  I didn't elaborate, and nobody asked me to, because I am a depressing individual that nobody in my circle to relate to.

* I have been going back & forth with the monument company for months now, trying to get Sam's headstone finalized. About a month ago, I received a text stating that they were setting it that day. Hold on a minute...I hadn't even approved anything yet! After a panic attack, conspiracy theories and several phone calls I finally found out they were just pouring the concrete work. Since then I have cut the middle man and finally approved the design last week. It will likely still be several weeks before it is set.

* Strained relationships have really taken their toll on me. Those people whom I once called the "big sister/brother I never had" disappeared, got sneaky and were trying to take advantage of me by "pulling rank." I have had no extra energy to put toward dealing with them. I've tried several times to extend the olive branch and be the bigger person, but screw that. I'm tired of the bigger person. At the end of they day, they get to go home to their complete family unit. Their kids get to go home to both parents. We don't get that. I expected way more from them...expected them to be the ones to step up to the plate and be a constant in the girls' lives. Sam and I did everything we could to support their kids and I expected the same in return. That expectation, apparently, was too high. I told my MIL that I wouldn't be attending Thanksgiving dinner, but that the girls could go for a while, explaining that I wasn't going to willfully put myself in a miserable situation on a day that's already going to suck. I don't know what she said to them, but ever since then they have turned a corner. It's nice...a breath of fresh air to feel like they are in my corner again and I haven't lost them too, but I'm not holding my breath that the current state of affairs lasts.

* Will should have turned 4 on October 13. Nobody understands what it's like to be a BLM (baby loss mom) except other baby-loss parents. And my other half isn't here...I carry the burden by myself. This year hit me harder than I expected.

* As of October 23, Sam has been gone longer than he was present in Clara's life. Clara is nearly 18 months guys...that sucks. It's a hard blow for me to take.

* I finally settled the insurance appeal that has been hanging over my head for months. Receiving the news that they reversed their denial took a huge load off my shoulders.

* Halloween. I really, really don't like Halloween and I never have. I don't find much enjoyment out of dressing in costume and trick-or-treating. Halloween was Sam's...he picked out Laura's costumes, got her pumped for the holiday, trekked all over town trick-or-treating with her. And this year it fell solely on my shoulders. And while I feel that I rocked it...I still hate Halloween.

* Laura started hip hop dance class. I signed her up thinking she would love it and burn some extra energy. She spent the first two classes sobbing and not participating. The last three have been great...let's hope it lasts.

* Laura turned 3. Wow. I just can't believe how much she has matured and learned over the last several months. She is wise beyond her years, articulate, insightful...and hurting. Three, and the weeks leading up to have, has brought on breakdowns of "I just miss my Daddy, Mama" and "I just want Daddy to sleep with me, Mama." What do you say to that? Because it takes my breath away and breaks my heart every.single.time. It is hitting home that Daddy is gone forever and not coming back. I do my best to validate her feelings and talk about Daddy and tell her that we're going to be ok...that it's ok to miss Daddy and we're going to miss him forever, but we have to still get up and move forward because nobody is going to wait for us.

* I don't know how many times I had told Sam, "I'm so glad I don't have to ever do the dating thing again." Open mouth, insert foot. I don't know what I'm looking for, but he's interested. And knows me and knew Sam and knows our story. And knows that I'm hurting. But at the end of the day, I just don't have anything left to give to anyone, and that's not fair to him. The companionship is nice, but I feel like I'm starting to get in the groove as a single parent and the last thing we need right now is to disrupt that. So...I guess it is what it is and we'll see what it will be.

* Parenting, in general, has been such a struggle. I know I've written before about how I'm the sole decision maker and how frustrating it is. Well, it hasn't changed. Except I'm also the sole owie-kisser, disciplinarian, fun-planner and "is it doctor worthy" opinion maker. It's a big load to bear.

* Clara is definitely entering the "terrible twos" and isn't my easygoing baby anymore. She's opinionated, talking much more (NO! is very clear), tantrum-throwing and stubborn.

* And then there's this big white elephant hanging out at work...bankruptcy. But of course nobody wants to actually tell us what's going on, they want us to believe that everything is still rainbows & unicorns. But I'm not stupid and I think it will happen in the next week or so. And I have no idea what that means for the security of my job...and it's stressing me the F out.

Over the last six weeks, I felt myself spiraling downward out of control. It's like I was walking in circles...never accomplishing anything except reinforcing how alone I am. Constantly exhausted, finding little joy in anything, feeling perpetually annoyed by the girls' antics, overwhelmed. But I feel like I've got it back in control, a bit. I am trying so desperately hard to stand by my promise to Sam of not letting myself get too low, but it's so damn hard. This widowhood thing is a lonely place to be.

Dream Kisses

I have been waiting and praying for so incredibly long, but last night it finally happened. Sam came to me in my dreams. And he was real.  He was solid...I touched him. He took my face in his hands and said, "You're doing so good, Babe."  And he kissed me. And I bawled and told him how much I miss him and love him. He gave me his 100-watt smile, kissed me again and he was gone.

God, how I miss him. 

The Rings

I stopped wearing it 1.5 months ago. I was terrified of losing it and it was a daily reminder of what is no longer in my life. His wedding ring on a necklace.

I took it off 5 days ago. I was painting and didn't want the paint to get on it. I had intentions of putting it back on, but I haven't. The tan lines are gone...there is no longer a daily reminder of what is no longer in my life. My wedding ring no longer adorns my left hand, where it has been every day for the last 8.5 years. I'm not saying it's easy or comforting to look down and see my bare hand, but it doesn't feel wrong either.

Both rings are safely tucked away in my jewelry box.

sigh

Milk & Cookies

Laura amazes me. She is such a strong little girl, recognizing that she misses Daddy but telling me "I be ok, Mama."  And then out of the blue, she does something just like he used to or asks to do something they did together. Last night, it was milk & cookies. She asked for a cookie...my kid who doesn't even care for sweets, asked for a cookie. But she insisted she wanted a cookie so I gave it to her.

L: "And something to dip it in, Mama."
Me: "Honey, we don't dip cookies in anything."
L: "I want to dunk it Mama!"
Me: "I don't have anything to dunk it in!"
L: "No, Mama. Like Daddy used to."

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. She remembers the two times they had milk and cookies before bed shortly before he passed away. He sat her on the counter, got them each a glass of milk and had milk and cookies. Well...she dunked, and he ate the cookies. And my heart burst...burst with joy that she remembers these seemingly small, everyday things and with tears that he's not here for her.

So I sat her on the counter and we had milk and cookies. A glass of milk for each of us.

Daddies

Scene: 45 minutes after bedtime because she just refuses to close her eyes. Or let me leave.

Laura: Those kids at the pool have Daddies, Mama?

Me: Yep...everybody has a Daddy.

Laura: My Daddy's in Heaven. With Jesus.

Me: Yep, sweetie, you're right.

Laura: Those pictures over there...that's my Daddy. My Daddy loves me very much.

Me: tears You're right, punkin, your Daddy does love you very much.

Laura: Daddy loves you too, Mama. And Clara. And me.

Me: Daddy loves everybody, honey.

Laura: Why?

Me:  Because your Daddy is extra special.

Laura: My Daddy loves me very much. drifts off to sleep

[SIGH]

12, 13, 23, 24

Today is the 23rd. I hate the 23rd...and let's just throw the 24th and 12th and 13th in there, too. It doesn't matter the month...I hate these days. These are the 4 days that my world shattered.

October 12, 2011: Found out we lost the little boy we longed for, planned for and had been anxiously awaiting his arrival after a perfectly normal, textbook pregnancy. Exactly 1 week before his due date.

October 13, 2011: Delivered Will silently into this world. No newborn wails, just the wails of our hearts breaking as we tried to squeeze a lifetime of love and memories into a few short hours. No baby to take home, just an empty car seat and a purple box of keepsakes: a lock of his hair, hand and footprints.

January 23, 2015: My world was sent into a tailspin at 8:30 pm when I found out that you had gone under the ice and they couldn't find you. I found out 5 hours after it happened and in my heart I knew there was no hope but with every fiber of my being I wished and prayed that they had made a mistake. That you had somehow rescued yourself and they just didn't know it. But my heart knew as it shattered into a million pieces that you were gone...gone forever. Never to hear the last voicemail I sent you at 3:00 that afternoon.

January 24, 2015: I sat and watched every minute of the 3 hour recovery. Watched them pull you from the ice. Watched them transport you across the ice in a body bag behind a 4-wheeler. Watched them load you into the ambulance for transport to the funeral home. Identified you, crumbling over our unbelievable life story and your ice cold body. Overwhelmed by reality.

Scenes and memories I will never forget but will always wish weren't our story. And these days (12, 13, 23, 24) haunt me...they tear my heart out.

Picture taken January 23, 2015

Today, on the 23rd, you've been gone 6 months...half a year. It seems like yesterday and it seems like a lifetime ago that I kissed you for the last time. That I took a picture of you with your sweet girls. That I looked forward to your return home from a short trip...that you were HERE beside me. And I know that you are now at Will's side, but I love you and I so desperately miss you.

My Life

So I've come back to wondering, "How is this my life? Is this real? Please let this be a bad, long dream."

But let's be honest...it's real and it's not a dream. This is my life.

My life of missing my best friend with every fiber of my being every second of every day. My life of being an only-parent. I'm an only-parent, not a single-parent, because I didn't choose to raise our two babies on my own. And being an only-parent is utterly exhausting. Their well-being is my top priority and I worry about them. Will they remember their Daddy? (Laura may, there's no chance in hell Clara will and that absolutely breaks my heart.) Am I doing things like we would have if there were still two of us to make decisions and discipline? Am I giving them enough opportunities and not expecting too much of them at too young of an age? Am I spending enough time playing with them while also giving them their own space to explore and develop independence? Am I enabling them because they've been robbed of growing up with a Daddy? The worry list is endless...and it's overwhelming and exhausting.

This is my life...a widow at 32. Eating Scarfing half a meal down alone after the girls are fed before they need me again. Managing inside and outdoor chores. No one to vent to when I've had a rough day at work or when family irritates me. No one to celebrate my raise with. No one to get excited over the little things only a parent gets excited about. No one to bounce ideas off. No one to plan a vacation with or dream about retirement with. No one to go on a date night with. It's just me and this is my lonely life.

Surviving Vacation

Well, we did it. We survived our annual vacation camping/fishing trip without you. The lack of your presence was undeniably noticed by everyone. Some viewed it as a memorial trip, but I viewed it as following through with the plans and dreams we had for our girls. And our girls had a blast.

I believe you were with us in spirit, turning on the toy airplane and bubble machine at random times. Baker found it annoying until I told him it was you telling him to get off his ass and go fishing. Laura told me she saw you "last night" a couple different days and those conversations both warm and break my heart. Our friends are doing a great job helping out with the girls and giving them the experiences that I can't on my own (your brother needs a swift kick in the ass, btw) and I will be forever grateful that the girls will have those relationships. I call the guys the girls' pseudo-dads because they love and treat the girls as their own, but none of them will ever compare to the Daddy that you were.

Grief

Grief is a peculiar thing. It's a vicious cycle that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. It's the littlest things that seem to hit you the hardest. A song on the radio (I've heard the funeral songs every.day on the radio), the fact that I had to cook burn the bacon for breakfast on Sunday, the fact that I had to permanently unpack your stuff from the camper. That one's not little...that's huge. I procrastinated as long as I could. And when I forced to do it, it sucked. And by unpacked, I mean I put all your stuff in a tote and hauled it into the bedroom. Where it's now sat for 2 weeks. Because I don't know what to do with it and I'm not ready to address it beyond this point yet.

Grieving opens your eyes to the real trials of the world. Someone else's bad day that they lament over is minute on my scale. Because really....you only locked your keys in your car. I would deal with that every day for the next 20 years if it meant I could have Sam back.

But I'm doing ok. I'm excelling at work, the girls seem to be happy (although Laura still has anxiety over people leaving her), they are involved and I have a social life outside being an only parent. But it's still not the same and given the choice, this isn't the life I would choose.

Vacation starts in two days. Vacation, for us, means camping and fishing on the Missouri river. Which isn't something I had ever done before I met Sam. It's something he grew up doing, introduced me to and I really enjoyed it. We had big plans to help our girls experience this. And now those plans rest solely on my shoulders to carry through. The maiden voyage is going to be hard. The whole 8-day trip is going to be bittersweet. I promised and planned to do these things with you for the rest of our lives. Instead, I have the rest of mine. And however long that may be, I promise I will never stop loving you and doing everything I can to make sure our girls experience everything we had dreamed of doing with them.

Updating

I've been MIA for a while. Life has been such a confusing, busy whirlwind this month. When I have thoughts I want to jot down, I don't have time. And when I have the time, the thoughts have escaped my exhausted brain.

* I survived Mother's Day weekend. I spent time with friends the night before Mother's Day. On Sunday, I spent some time by myself distracted by the task of trying to organize/muck closets. I packed up his ridiculous collection of shoes by the door I was tired of tripping over. I packed up his clothes out of the dresser but couldn't go any further. I spent some time with the girls and my parents. I accomplished little but thinking of what should have been. There should have been a little boy with us, too. And his Daddy. Instead, there were the three of us and lots of  "girl hugs."

* Clara turned 1! I can't believe that a year has passed since we welcomed our Baby Girl into this world. She is the sweetest little instigator loved beyond words. Sam would have been beaming watching her ride her new 4-wheeler. He would have been irritated with the amount of time I spent working on decorations that no one but me cares about. But he would have been proud of his Baby Girl. The day was so very bittersweet...the first of many birthdays to come without him.

* I continue to fight insurance through my attorney. The appeal period is drawing near and I'm ready to just be done with it. I'm still avoiding things like taking his name off our accounts, insurance and changing all of our vehicle titles.

* I'm trying to plan vacation and get us ready to go for the annual week-long camping trip. And by trying I mean I've thought little about it except when we're going, which is now only 3 weeks away. I still have menus/food to prep, a camper to clean and pack. But, see, that's the hold up. Because I'll be cleaning out his stuff and NOT repacking it. Camping was his hobby that he introduced me to. We had big plans of taking the girls on many camping/fishing trips, we bought a new camper big enough for all of us two years ago. And now he's not here and I'm left to make sure these things happen on my own, with the help of friends. But it's not the same and it will never be the same.

* Laura asked about Daddy for the first time in a while last night while we were showering. The conversation went something like this:

"Daddy never coming home, Mama?" No, Punkin, Daddy won't be coming home. "It's ok Mama. I saw him yesterday. I played with Daddy." What did you play? Rode bikes, build castles, RZR ride. I had fun. I'm glad you got to play with Daddy and that you had fun. Daddy loves you.

I am so very glad that she gets experiences like this and I hope they don't end anytime soon. I also hope she continues sharing them with me.

* Clara pointed to the family portrait on the wall last night and said "Dada."  Repeatedly...over and over. Even after getting distracted by something else, she was right back to identifying Daddy on the wall.

* I'm avoiding giving any thought to what should be our 7th wedding anniversary on Sunday. We never made a huge deal out of anniversaries but it still hits hard that there will never be another. I think I'll just hide out at home with the girls with the doors locked and shades drawn. It's supposed to rain all day (again) anyway.

I think, overall, I'm mentally in a better place than I was. I've accepted that I'm a single-parent regardless of doing everything "by the books" the last 32 years of my life. I'm grateful that the girls and I have such a strong network of close friends that pick us up when we are down, step into that father-role for my girls more times than I can count and just let us be...without judgment. My girls have so many pseudo-Dads/uncles that they'll never be able to get away with anything (or have lots of help pulling it off)!

But no matter how much time passes, there will always be a lump in my throat, a tear in my eye and a hole in my heart.

The carousel never stops turning

How do you do it Shonda Rhimes? How do you manage to mimic my life, my feelings, my inner thoughts, my fears?

Oct 2011 – We unexpectedly lose our son at 39 weeks. Stillborn.

May 2012 – Amelia loses her newborn son. (Private Practice)

January 2015 – I unexpectedly become a widow with two very young kids; a widow due to a freak accident in which the hands of the rescuers were tied.

April 2015 – Derek dies. Meredith is a widow with two young kids; a widow due to a freak accident. (Grey's Anatomy)

You might think that watching this version of my life play out on tv would haunt and torture me. Is it easy? God no. But there’s something about it that makes me feel a little less alone. It forces me to face emotions I try to bury…forces me to name the feelings I couldn’t before find words for. And it gives those on the outside looking into my life an idea of what I'm dealing with.

The carousel never stops turning. It’s funny the way memory works. The things you can’t quite remember, and the things you never forget.

He was the love of my life. I doubt I'll ever love another man the way I loved him. I'm certain I won't. How could I? But he's gone. That's the point, isn't it? He's gone and I'm here. And there's no getting him back.

I wish Daddy were here.

It's awful being a grown-up. But the carousel never stops turning.

You've never lost the love of your life. You've never cried over the body of the person you love most in this world. You don't know how that messes a person up. You've never had to claw your way back from that.

I can live without you, but I don't want to. I don't ever want to.

I still get up every morning. I face every day. I don't get to jump on a plane and fly halfway across the damn world.

What the hell is going on? What’s the point? I mean, is there a reason for this? Because if you can think of a reason, any reason at all why the universe is so screwed up and random and mean, now would be an amazingly good time to tell me because I really need some answers.

Nothing comes easily. I want to settle down and grow old with you. I want to die when I'm 110 years old in your arms. I don't want 48 uninterrupted hours. I want a lifetime.

He's gone and I know he's gone. And the bed feels lonely. Nothing comes easily. I don't know how to sleep alone. Where do I begin? Nothing can bring me peace I miss you. I've lost everything. I just want to feel your embrace.

I know people were worried. Since he died, everybody's been looking at me, waiting for me to fall apart or freak out or just become a mess. Like some bomb everyone thinks is supposed to go off.

And I'm all alone. Now I have to raise my daughter[s] alone. How am I expected to do that?

I needed more time with him, but it just keeps going forward faster and faster and there is no more time. You can't go back, you can't press pause.

If there's a crisis you don't freeze. You move forward. You get the rest of us to move forward. Because you've seen worse. You've survived worse.

It's a choice I'm making. To move forward. To move past this. I can do that.

The carousel never stops turning. No matter how hard I drag my feet, it keeps turning and the calendar pages keep turning, the girls keep growing and life moves forward. I have to be present for them...active in their lives. I have to figure out how to make this work for the three of us. Love them SO HARD so they know how much their Daddy loves[d] them. 

And so it begins

I just retained my first lawyer

So here we go...here's to re-hashing the details, requesting reports and photographs, digging for more information, paying for expert opinions and putting everything on the line. With less than 30 days to do it.

Dreading Today

Today is one of those days I really would have preferred to stay in bed with my head under the comforter. I have a pounding headache and a knot in my stomach anticipating the phone call from the lawyer today. I don't want to talk about the accident, yet again, re-hashing the events, the details...my nightmare. I don't want to think about the what-ifs, why's, should-haves and could-haves. I don't want to question why it had to be YOU to be the nice guy and haul those people across the lake, by yourself. None of it will change the fact that you're gone.

I've been trying to give myself a pep talk...telling myself that I can do this, that I'm strong enough for these conversations again. I don't have myself convinced, yet, but I will get through it. Because it's my only choice.

Hitting Hard

It hit me again, hard, tonight that this is my life. I don't know what triggered it. Maybe it was making it through what should have been your 33rd birthday last Wednesday. Maybe it was worrying about fighting life insurance for the last week and what an unfavorable outcome may mean for the girls' future. Maybe it was watching Laura absolutely ATTACH herself to your buddies last weekend as they were working on the playhouse. She THRIVED all weekend. She NEEDED that "man" time. Except it should have been with you. Maybe it was the concerned questions at work today both in person and over the phone. Maybe it was watching Clara take 6 consecutive steps tonight...wishing I had another set of hands to video it and wishing those hands were yours. Maybe it's the fact that I am just completely exhausted. Whatever it was, it triggered me. And I couldn't hold it together and broke down sobbing after baths tonight.

I'm exhausted, both mentally and physically. I'm tired of worrying about how up-in-the-air our future is. I'm tired of worrying about how badly I'm messing up our kids...wondering if I'm making the right decisions and having no one that REALLY understands to bounce ideas/frustrations off. I'm tired of going non-stop from 5 am to 11 pm every.single.day trying to stay caught up on everything and still being constantly behind. Single parenthood blows, in case you were wondering. I miss the friendship, the companionship and the company. I miss the warm body next to me at night. I miss the gentle kiss on the forehead. I miss you. 

And that's what I told Laura when she saw me sobbing. She was so worried, "What's wrong, Mama?" I told her that I was sad and missed her Daddy. "Me, too Mama. I want Daddy too. Here's blankey. You be ok?"  She gave me her prized blankey that gets shared with no one. And a big bear hug and snuggles. And she kept asking me if I was ok. "You ok, Mama?  Daddy's in Heaven right now. You ok?" I told her that I would be ok and pulled myself together. 

But I'm not ok and I don't know how I ever will be. Everyone keeps telling me how well I'm doing and how well I'm coping. But I'm not doing well. I'm beat down. I want to give up and crawl in a hole. I want somebody with a crystal ball to tell me how this story goes for the next 40 years so I can quit worrying and wondering. It seems like everything is an uphill battle recently and I just don't know how much fight I have left in me.

Easter

We survived Easter. The girls had fun and I managed to avoid most questions at the extended stranger family dinner. I focused on the girls but my mind still drifted to what should have been. He should have been at the park with us for their first egg hunt. He should have been with me getting baskets ready. He should have seen Laura's disgust that the Bunny hid all her eggs. He should have seen Clara and her first Easter. sigh

As we near what should be his 33rd birthday (1 week from today) I'm struggling...big time.

Needs

A fellow widow (late 50's, widowed for one week today) recently told me, "You're the strongest person I know. I'm not strong like you." I told her that I'm nothing special. Because I'm not. Fake it 'til you make it.

I feel like I'm floating through life, from one commitment to the next and being pulled in too many directions at once. I feel like people think I'm doing ok. And I guess I am...doing ok...because ok is all I have right now. But really...who wants to be just ok? People think they know what I need. An extended family Easter on Sunday..."sounds like it's going to be a nice little get together for something other than a funeral."  Gee, thanks Mom. I guess that depends on who you are and what your definition of nice is. My idea of a "nice" Easter without my husband and my daughter's Dad would be a quiet one with immediate family. Not a dog and pony show with aunts/uncles/cousins that I haven't seen or been in touch with in years. People that won't stay in touch with me because right now, I feel like all they want is the "scoop." M y idea of a "nice" Easter doesn't include re-hashing the events of January 23, answering the stupid-ass question "so, how are you doing" a bajillion times, feeling their steely eyes follow me wherevever I go all day just waiting for me to breakdow, and hearing the whispers behind my back, "so...how is she REALLY doing?"  I don't NEED these strangers family around on Sunday. Re-connect on your own time, not on my grief.

I don't NEED to "just get away awhile...just by yourself."  Why?! So I have even more down time to think about everything we have lost and how things should be? Yeah, that sounds "relaxing" and "rejuvenating."  And you know what else I don't need? Someone constantly tracking my every move. I am a 32-year old adult. I don't NEED to check-in with you and tell you my every move. I don't NEED to seek permission to do something or take my girls and go somewhere for the day. I am their parent...their ONLY LIVING parent, and I make the decisions, not you. And you know what? Your hurt feelings are the least of my concerns these days. If your feelings get hurt because I prioritize myself and my girls over you then I guess you're just going to have hurt feelings and deal with it.

This is what I need:

I need him...my best friend, confidante, soul mate. I need him to tell me "as long as we have each other, we can get through anything." I need to talk about how lucky we are that our marriage is easy. I need his passion.

I need to feel this joy and happiness...this security. I need him to tuck my hair behind my ear, hold my hand as we fall asleep or drive in the car, hold me tight as I cry a million tears.

I need my outdoorsman and I need him to share his love of the oudoors with our girls. 

I need my hard-working family man.The man that would melt at his daughters' request. The man who told them, "You have the best Mommy ever." The man who assured me that I was doing ok. The man who worried about my lack of sleep (as I type this at 11:45 PM), who told me to sit down and take a break, who could melt the stress and the fears away.  I need to feel his touch and his love. I need to tell him about my day, the girls' days and I need him to be as excited as only a parent can be over the little things they say and do. I need him to see Clara working so hard taking her first steps, waving bye-bye, saying "hi" and giving kisses. I need my partner. They need their Daddy. I'm broken and I don't think I will ever be whole again.

On Community & Grieving

This community is amazing. In times of hardship it pulls together and transforms into a neighborhood. A neighborhood of supportive friends who offer compassion, prayers, help and random acts of kindness at the drop of a hat, without blinking an eye and in the midst of their own struggles and commitments. I have witnessed it on numerous occasions and recently experienced it firsthand. My family has been the recipient of this support network the past couple of months and for that we would like to express our sincere thanks and appreciation. The cards and messages of sympathy, flowers/plants, prayers and acts of kindness continue to be a great comfort to us. We are truly blessed to have so many wonderful friends and to live in such an amazing community.

For reasons unknown to us, our small community is taking a hard hit lately. There has been too much loss, far too soon; far too many new members of these "clubs" nobody asks to join. An article was recently shared with me that spoke about how to support grieving parents. I, unfortunately, am also a member of that club. The article hit the nail on the head, but I've also decided that it equally applies to grieving spouses, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles...grieving FAMILY & FRIENDS. So I wanted to share some highlights with our neighborhood. My hope is that this offers a bit of insight and  reassurance that we are not walking this path alone.

*Remember Them - We want the world to remember our loved one, young or old. Share memories with us and help us relive them. We are always seeking the balance between holding onto our grief and a happy life after our loss. Milestone celebrations (birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc) hit us hard. Please don't walk away.

* We Can't be "Fixed" - There is no roadmap to grief. Each of us has to find a way to live with loss and it is an individual process. We welcome your love and support but please don't tell us that "time heals all wounds." We feel broken and that doesn't just go away. Please be patient with us as we find our new way and please know that when we know what we need, or what you can do for us, we will surely let you know.

* We Need Time Outs - Our family's milestone celebrations are especially hard. No matter how many years go by, the longing for a complete family unit intensifies in the days leading up to these events and explodes on the day of the event. Please give us time to process another year marked by their absence. And then help us remember them.

* Happiness is an Everyday Struggle - We fight to find the balance of missing and grieving for our loved ones and living life in a way that honors them. We want to be happy, but our loss is constantly hovering at the surface of other emotions.

* It's Uncomfortable - Our loss will make you uncomfortable. You will be afraid that you'll make us lose it by remembering that our loved one is gone. Trust me...we know and haven't forgotten. So please speak their name, tell us you're thinking about them, share a story. Tears of remembrance and loving support are far better than tears from unspoken words. And if you can't say anything, then just be there so we know we are supported and cared about.

We grieve because we loved. We are lucky to have had something that makes saying goodbye so incredibly hard. "Grief changes us. The pain sculpts us into someone who understands more deeply, hurts more often, appreciates more quickly, cries more easily, hopes more desperately and loves more openly" (unknown).

http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-17928/what-i-wish-more-people-understood-about-losing-a-child.html

My Daddy Left Me

Scenario: Bath time last night. Happily playing and "swimming."  Then out of nowhere Laura starts crying big alligator tears.

Me: What's wrong?

L: I want my Daddy!

Me:  I know, sweetie, I want your Daddy too. But he's in Heaven, remember? And we have him in our hearts and can see him in pictures and in our dreams.

L: I want my Daddy HERE!

Me: I know...me, too.  It makes me mad and sad that Daddy isn't here.

L: My Daddy left me.

Me:  He didn't mean to, sweetheart. It was an accident. fighting my own tears

L: I love my Daddy.

Me:  And he loves you, too.  And Clara loves you and Mommy loves you.

L: I love Mommy. giggles

And then we played a round of "I love you more"

Two Months

Two months ago my world as I've known it for the last 10.5 years came to a screeching halt and fell apart. It's already been two months since you died and I...well, I'm still in disbelief. And these last few days I hurt again like the reality is fresh.

I went to the Garth Brooks concert last weekend and I learned/realized two things; 1) I'm a bigger Garth fan than I thought I was and even more so after the show and 2) he sings a lot about losing love. Admission: I cried during the concert with 20,000+ other people surrounding me. Songs like:
"If Tomorrow Never Comes", "Rodeo", "The River", "Unanswered Prayers", "The Dance"\ Throw in Trisha Yearwood with "How Do I Live"...you could say that their setlist touched me. They all made me think of you and miss you. And cry.

And the crying continued today. More songs on the radio, no matter what channel I switched to, that reminded me of you and us. The number on the calendar (23), Laura's longing for you. It was just one of those days where every time I turned around I was crying. (and here I go again).

I stopped at one of your buddies' house after work because I needed somewhere to go without analyzing eyes before I picked up the girls from daycare. We had a good talk about you...missing you, still catching ourselves not realizing you're gone, trying to fill this huge hole that's been left in all our lives. And of course I cried some more but I guess I needed that release. It's amazing what 15 minutes of friendship, hugs and tears can do for an attitude. The girls and I had a good night. And as we were getting ready for bed, another of your buddies called to check in. They're taking care of us, you know...your/our network of friends is undeniably one of the anchors in my life right now. I don't know where I would be without them.

But that doesn't stop us from wishing we could turn back time and have you here with us again. Laura and I have been talking about needing you and a big ol' Daddy hug. God how I miss those hugs. I tell her that I love her and you love her and that you'll hug her in her dreams....so please, come give us a big ol' Daddy hug in our dreams tonight. Our broken hearts sure could use it.

Re-Organizing

<sigh>  5 days until the 2 month mark. I can't believe that it's been that long. Laura is still questioning and begging for her Daddy. I'm still muddling through a day at a time. Life goes on whether that's my preference or not.

So I'm beginning to re-organize one small, itsy-bitsy baby step at a time. As in...I moved your bathroom stuff off the counter and put it under the sink. Most of it...I threw away your water pic and electric razor (that you never used anyway) after fighting my head over it for a solid hour. The bathroom looks so...girly and bare now. I don't like it. I washed your thermos and put it under the kitchen sink. I moved your wear-once-a-year coats off the coat rack and put them in the coat closet.

I'm also re-organizing my language. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to say us, ours, we? Now it's I, me and mine. And I have to make a conscious effort because being "us" is still so natural. And not having an "us" still kills me a little bit every day. And people just don't understand. My boss was asking today how all the paperwork is going (answer: it's not) and in the course of our discussion commented "well you can't mourn forever...you need to get out & do things." It wasn't her intention to sound rude...but it caught me off guard. I WILL mourn forever but, as I promised you when we lost Will, I will not let myself sink so low that I can't pull it back together.

So yeah...I'm starting to re-organize. But your coats and shoes are still by the door, clean work clothes still hanging in random spots in our bedroom, lunchbox still on top of the fridge. Because I'm also still mourning...and I don't see that changing in this lifetime.

Everything's Going to Work Out

I seem to be having a rough spell these last few days. Missing you like crazy, resentful of those who still have their husbands and best friends, pissed off that our girls are going to grow up without you. The tears are flowing freely again at the drop of a hat. My heart physically hurts. I'm overwhelmed trying to keep up with the day-to-day chores at home, trying to make sure the girls are ok and that I'm there for them, And I have very little patience for their meltdowns and then my heart breaks all over again. I've always described myself as a decision-maker and leader but it's become very apparent to me that I'm not. I haven't made a decision on my own for nearly 11 years...you were always my sounding board, the voice of reason and the spontaneity. Everything rests on my shoulders now...doctor/no doctor...give in to the bedtime battle/make her cry it out...stupid decisions, big decisions...they are all my responsibility.

I was up with Laura (again) at 4:30 this morning...20 minutes before my alarm was set to go off and I was annoyed. I must have drifted off but woke at 5:15. You came to me. I could feel your firm kiss..the whiskers around your mouth. I could smell you. As you walked away from the recliner, you moved to stand by the island in the kitchen. And you said, "Everything's going to work out." I asked you if you really thought I could do this and you just smiled...and I woke up with a sense of calm that I haven't felt in 6.5 weeks.

The calm didn't last long since I cried most of the way to work and off and on throughout the day. But I so desperately needed to feel your presence. So please come back to me...if only in my dreams.

Daddy's Here!

It was last Friday morning. Laura had a GREAT night and nearly slept through the night....albeit in the recliner but at least she slept! I was watching her sleep as I was picking up the living room and saw her smile and giggle a little bit. Warmed my heart. When I woke her up at 6:20 to get ready for daycare, she sat straight up and with wide bright eyes exclaimed, "DADDY'S HERE!"  Broke my heart.

She looked everywhere from the recliner...insisting that you were there. I tried to ask if you had visited her in her dreams...what you were doing and what you said. But she doesn't understand "dreams" yet. She just knew that you were there. I asked her where you went and she pointed to our bedroom and said "Daddy go in there." And she was adamant.

I have to believe that you came to see her, that you were there with us that morning. She NEEDED that. I needed that. Because we miss you terribly...more than words could ever describe. There is this big empty hole in our lives where you should be. And we're feeling it more and more everyday.

She Sang

Laura is a smart little cookie. She keeps telling me (and everyone that will listen) "My Daddy fishin' in heaven. Mommy stay here with me."  I told her that once. Two weeks ago.

And she misses you. And she wants you. She's becoming more and more vocal about her feelings. And all I can do is reaffirm them and reassure her that I want and miss you, too. Because what else can I do?

The other night she wanted you to sing with her. You used to sing songs with her when you put her to bed. ABCs, Twinkle Twinkle, Itsy Bitsy. And she craved that the other night. I told her Mommy would sing with her...she told me no. I told her that you could hear her in Heaven so she could sing you a song. "No Mommy. WITH Daddy." She dropped it then, and so did I.

But tonight...she asked if she could sing Daddy ABCD's. I told her absolutely. And with quiet tears streaming down my face I listened to our little girl sing her little heart out...ABC's to Daddy in Heaven.

It Finally Happened

After at week back at work and almost 4 weeks after losing you, it finally happened.  I was at annual refresher training, surrounded by co-workers, many whom I don't see very often and sometimes only once a year at this annual event. I used to work with him at Jacobs Ranch when I was on the conveyor project. In trying to make small-talk before one of the classes started he asked, "So are you still married?"

Heart breaks again. I'm sure I looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It took me what seemed like forever to answer and the best I could come up with? "Yeah...I guess kinda...it's complicated." And when he had no idea what I was talking about I had to force the words "My husband passed away 3 weeks ago" fighting back tears and willing my voice not to break. (it didn't work) And then I saw the realization hit his eyes and the wheels start turning. He had read the news, heard about the accident but didn't connect it back to me. And he felt horrible.

I should have prepared myself for this question. It's not like I didn't know it wouldn't come up. It's like the "How many kids do you have" question people so innocently ask except it's not innocent to us BLM's (baby loss moms). Because it breaks our heart. And so did this question.

Am I married? Yes, in my heart. " 'Til death do us part"...I'm not ready for the part yet. My mother-in-law (also widowed) has mentioned in passing that it is "proper etiquette" for widows to wear their wedding ring on their right hand. She's not trying to be rude or obnoxious...but I'm not ready and I don't know if I'll ever be ready. Because in my heart I will ALWAYS be married to you.

But I guess in the meantime, I better figure out an answer to that seemingly-innocent question.

Ramblings

I went back to work Monday. The hour-long drive was brutal...too much time to think/let my mind wander and too many songs on the radio that I finally had to turn it off. How can it be that EVERY song on EVERY station reminded me of you and/or everything we've lost? Today was day 3...I made it through the day without crying. I think that's a first. And I don't know whether to be proud or sad. I guess I'm both.

I finally received the certified copies of the death certificate...asphyxia, drowning and hypothermia with a time interval of minutes. When there is too much time to think, my mind has often wandered...wondering what you were thinking when you went through...what you felt..if/how long you suffered...if our little boy called you home. I can't let myself go there...it gets too dark and I just hope that the imagination is worse than the actual events. Oh yeah...those death certificates? I have to send them all back because they screwed up our address...just like I had to with Will's. Coincidence?

Which means the paperwork is still piling up and I'm still in financial limbo. I'll be ok but I hate the unsettled feeling. And the thank you's still aren't done...titles haven't been addressed....utilities haven't been changed...the list is never-ending.

I finally put my foot down with the Grandma's tonight. One (or both) of them have been out here til/past the girls' bedtimes every night. I couldn't take it anymore. Not only was I missing out on precious time with our girls but I was tired of the staring eyes that were CONSTANTLY on me. And tonight went well. Granted, we still have meals being delivered by friends every night so I didn't have to cook. But we ate, kitchen picked up, bath time, played toys, watched part of a movie, read books and the girls were asleep in their own beds by 8:45. Clara even put herself to sleep. I'm not saying it was easy or meltdown-free...but it's doable. I need to know that I can do this...because I'm going to have to do it on my own. I took for granted and never acknowledged/appreciated how much you did around here to help me out...for that I'm sorry.

People...random people...are stopping by to visit, requesting play dates with the girls or girls' nights out. It's weird. I'm forcing myself to participate but I'm getting tired of constantly running and not being at home. Laura is even requesting to stay home.

Laura...oh sweet Laura. I think she is starting to grasp that you are gone forever. She's struggled the last few mornings wanting/crying for you. I tell her that you won't be coming home. That you're in Heaven but we can see you in pictures and we have you in our hearts. Last night was the first night she repeated all this back to me. And today she said she misses you. All I can do is tell her that I miss you, too. And then whatever piece is left of my shattered heart breaks into a million little pieces.

It's late. I'm sure one (or both) of the girls will be awake shortly...the nights have been rough. So I really need to try to sleep. I'm sleeping with one of your dirty t-shirts I dug out of the laundry. It brings some comfort but it's not the same. Nothing is the same. Nothing will ever be the same.

How are you doing?

I hate going out in public.  "How are you doing?" they ask.  What kind of answer do they expect to hear?  "I'm ok"  I'm fine" or the other end of the spectrum "I'm depressed".

How the FUCK do you think I'm doing?  How would YOU be doing if your husband died 20 days ago?  Would you be ok?  Would you be fine? No, I don't spend my entire day bawling...but that's something new within the last few days.  Because you know why?  I have no choice but to keep on going...I'm a young widow with two very young girls to take care of.

You know what I got to do today?  Write thank you's for contributions to my husband's memorial fund. Spend half the day converting voicemails to MP3s so that I and my girls can hear his voice...so I can remember what it sounds like and so that they will have a CLUE what it sounds like.  Figure out how to save text messages so I can remember the snippets of conversation years from now. Call my
husband's cell phone one last time before cancelling his line. Listen to my little girl cry that she just wants her Daddy and know that I can't make that happen for her and that she will never have her Daddy here again. Sit here in OUR bed by myself missing his touch and smell...longing and aching for this to be part of some crazy dream.

You know what I get to do tomorrow?  Rinse and repeat.  Figure out how I'm supposed to do this on my own.  Fake it until I make it.  Hide the tears until this time of day when they come raging.

I'm not ok and I'm not fine.  But I'm getting by because I have to...because I've been given no choice.

So...how are you doing?

Our Story

Sam and I went to high school together.  He was a class ahead of me and while he always claimed that he tried to date me then, I really have no recollection.  I went to the University of Wyoming and he went to Sheridan College.  At the time, we were both in long-term relationships that caused our paths to cross a few times while I was in my undergrad program.

Well those relationships fizzled (thank God) and in March 2004 our paths crossed again.  We were 21, I was a rodeo queen and he attended my fundraiser event at a local restaurant/bar.  Flirting ensued all night during the event.  After my obligations were finished, I put on "normal" clothes and returned to the bar.  There was a large group of us there that had all gone to high school together so it was somewhat of a reunion.  After getting home at 5 am and getting my butt chewed by my mother (note:  I was 21!) I was sure he'd had enough.  But he kept pursuing and we began officially "dating."

We dated for 4 years and it was so easy.  I remember him asking me a year or two into the relationship, in his mom's basement, who I was going to marry.  And it was just natural and my response was "you."  He proposed in the summer of 2007.  By this time, he had purchased a piece of land and we had ordered a house.  The first night in our new home was September 15, 2007 and we got married on May 24, 2008.  Sam did most of the work on our property himself...built the road, put in the culvert across the creek, septic system, wiring, pump house & water tank, dirt work where the house would be, foundation for the house, etc..  I was there through it all, but not much help.

Our wedding was attended by over 300 people and was called the party of the year.  I remember him telling me how beautiful I looked that day and I hold that in my heart.  Our marriage started and lives went on.  New jobs, new companies.  We started trying to have a family in the summer of 2010 and were lucky enough to get pregnant after 3 months.  Unfortunately, that pregnancy ended in a missed miscarriage in October 2010.  He was my rock and told me that we would be ok because we had each other.  We got pregnant again in January 2011 and had a perfect, easy, stress-filled pregnancy.  Every appointment we were told that it was "textbook".  On October 12, 2011 we went to our 39 week appointment hoping that I had progressed enough to be admitted to the hospital.  And on that day, we were told that our son no longer had a heartbeat.  I collapsed, screamed, yelled.  We cried together and called family.  Sam was again, my rock.  He knew all the right things to say to make me feel better even though I know he was hurting just as much as me.  They induced labor and at 5:45 pm on October 13, 2011 we held our stillborn son.  And we cried...the lost plans, hopes and dreams.  We tried to fit a lifetime of love into a few short hours.  And he told me, again, that we would be ok because we had each other. And as long as we had each other we could make it through anything.

They say that miscarriages and stillbirths rip marriages apart.  But it didn't ours...we relied on each other, confided in each other and our marriage grew.  We were lucky to conceive again in February 2012 and delivered our SCREAMING little girl, Laura, on November 1, 2012 at 38 weeks 5 days. And life was good again.  We were finally parents to a LIVING child and it was the best feeling in the world.  Sam absolutely doted on that little girl from day one.  <3

Not having time/age on our side, we started trying to conceive again the next summer and got a positive test in September 2013.  Another easy, textbook pregnancy and Clara was born on May 14, 2014.  She, too, had her Daddy wrapped around her little finger from day one.  And life was good again.  While we still miss(ed) our little boy, those little girls gave us something to live for.

On January 23, 2015 our lives changed forever.  Sam had left the day before to go on the annual ice fishing trip with his buddies.  It was supposed to be a short weekend trip this year.  He told me the night before he left that he didn't feel like going because he was going to miss his girls...all three of them.  I told him that he'd have fun and he should go...he always felt like this before leaving since the girls were born.  So on the morning of January 22 we all said our goodbyes as he saw us off to daycare/work.  I got a text message the next morning that they had made it to their destination and all was good but they hadn't caught any fish yet.  He also mentioned they had good cell service on the lake, so he'd check in later.  He didn't.  I sent him a text at 5:18 that night and when I didn't get a response figured they were already back at the cabin.  At 8:30, as I was starting to get the girls to bed, there was a knock on the door. It was my mother-in-law (MIL), brother-in-law (BIL), sister-in-law (SIL) and our county sheriff.

My BIL told me that Sam had went through the ice that afternoon and they couldn't find him.  I was in shock and disbelief.  I collapsed into his arms, asking for more details, knowing in my heart that he was gone but refusing to believe it.  I'm told that he was giving a friend and his two sons a ride across the lake on the 4Wheeler as they were done fishing for the day, around 3:30 pm.  They had gone across that route 12 times that day...but this time, the ice broke and they all went through.  The friend and the oldest son were able to crawl out on their own.  Sam and the youngest boy went under.  Sam got them back to the surface.  Some other fisherman threw a PFD and Sam got the boy rigged up.  They pulled him to safety but when they turned around for Sam, he was gone. I'm told it all happened fast...maybe 2-3 minutes.  He surfaced once more after getting the boy out, but then was gone. His buddies had raced across the ice to try to help, calling 911 on their way.  The local fire department dove for him for 3 hours until they had to stop.  And that's when I found out that my life had been completely shattered.

My BIL, Sam's best friend and I left early the next morning to head to the lake...a 4 hour drive. They were bringing in a specialized dive & rescue team and I wanted to be there.  They started their attempt at 8:30 that morning.  The blocks of ice they cut & pulled out of the lake were 18" deep...30' away from the upturned 4-wheeler frozen in the lake.  Around 2:30 pm I watched them pull him from the water. 18" of ice...this never should have happened...that's GREAT ice.  They loaded him in the ambulance and transported him to the funeral home and we met him there.  Walking into that building was one of the hardest things I have ever done (and I've buried an infant son).  He looked like he was just sleeping...and our hearts shattered again, facing reality.

I don't know why this happened. I guess somebody was going to go through the ice that day and if Sam hadn't been there, it would have been that little boy.  And losing a child is not something I would wish on my worst enemy.  But damn it...why did I have to lose my husband at the age of 32?  Why me?  Why us?  Why do our little girls (27 months and 9 months) have to go through life without their Daddy...and not only without him, but without any memories of him except for the ones I create for them through pictures.  It's not fair and I don't understand.  All I know is we have the shittiest luck of anyone I have ever known.

* Spring 1998:  Sam is diagnosed with severe, life-threatening scoliosis at the age of 16.  He undergoes major back surgery to have all but 2 vertebrae fused together. He flat-lined on the table but they were able to bring him back.  I can't recall how many units of blood they had to give him because he had lost so much.  He "grew" 3" after having surgery and he made a full recovery.  Except he had limited mobility...couldn't play baseball (his passion)...but he never complained.  He made do.

* Fall 1998:  Sam's parents were building a new house.  He stopped to visit a friend after football practice before going to help his Dad.  When he got to the property (where MIL currently lives), he found his Dad unresponsive with no pulse.  He had to leave him there to go back to town to call 911 because there isn't cell service near our houses.  And when he followed the ambulance to the hospital, he had to break the news to his mom. He spent the next 16 years looking out for his Mom, acting as an uncle AND grandpa to our niece & nephew and looking up to his brother (7 years older) as a father-figure.

* Fall 2011:  We buried our full-term stillborn son after a "perfect, textbook" pregnancy.  They said it was just bad luck...that it shouldn't have happened and there was no cause.

* January 23, 2015:  My husband died.  DIED.  At the age of 32, I'm a widow with two babies to raise on my own.

* January 31, 2015: We buried our husband, Daddy, brother, son, uncle next to his Dad and our little boy.  Just bad luck...it was good ice and he was doing a good deed for a friend (like always).  It shouldn't have happened.

Bad luck...bad luck...bad luck.  What's next?  When will the other shoe fall?  Can I just take my family and live in a glass house or a big bubble please?  Because I'm about shit-full of bad luck.

I Miss Daddy, Too

It was a rough night last night and a rough morning.  I think Laura is starting to realize that Daddy hasn't been here in 2.5 weeks. And she's starting to realize that something's not right.

It was bedtime last night and we did our normal routine.  She asked for Daddy to "lay with me" several times.  "No Mommy...Daddy lay with me."  So we cried together and I told her that I wanted Daddy, too.  It only took her 15 minutes to calm down and fall asleep but those 15 minutes broke my heart.

She slept better last night, only getting up at 12:30 to move to the recliner.  But when she woke up on her own at 6:15 she was a bear the entire morning.  I can't count how many times she said she wanted Daddy to do something for her.  Brush her hair, turn on Mickey Mouse, get her milkie, carry her to the car, do her buckle on her car seat, "Daddy kiss me" and close my door.  Break.My.Heart.  So we both cried on the way to daycare and I told her, "I Miss Daddy, too, sweetheart."  I didn't know what else to say.

Because it's true...I miss her Daddy, my best friend, my husband, my confidante.  There are people everywhere, but it's not the same and I am SO LONELY.  It's the little things and the big things and everything in between.  I miss:

~ The way he would do those things for her she was asking for this morning.
~ The piece of toast and cup of coffee he'd make for me every morning while I was getting the girls ready.
~ That he'd help get all our daycare/work bags packed out to the car then come back in to help Laura put on her shoes and coat. (She can do them both by herself now, Daddy.)
~ That he'd kiss all his girls goodbye every morning...first Laura, then Clara then Mommy.  And he'd tell me to have good luck with daycare drop off, have a good day and to drive safe.
~ That most days he would call me at work between 8:30 and 9:00 just to check in to see how drop-off went and how my day was going.
~ That he'd check in on his way home from work to see if I needed him to do something.
~ That he'd be waiting in the shop to help get everything packed back into the house.
~ That Laura would look forward to going to "my house" so "Daddy get me" out of her car seat. Every. Night.
~ That he would help get supper ready or play with the girls while I cooked.  It was a team effort...effortless.
~ That I would get irritated with him sitting in the recliner while I got dishes done, girls through the tub and jammies on.
~ That he would pick up on my irritation and had started doing dishes while I did baths.
~ That we didn't worry about bills or cleaning or adult discussions at this time of the day...we had family time.  TV off...REAL family time playing toys, wrestling on the floor, tickle monsters, car races.  Real quality family time.
~ That the bedtime routine always started with him rocking Clara and ended with him falling asleep laying with Laura.
~ The small kisses and hugs he so freely gave throughout the day, for no reason at all.
~ That he'd wait for me to crawl into bed and pull me close for snuggles.
~ That I would fall asleep wrapped in his arms, him breathing loudly in my ear.

Everyone says that marriage is hard work.  Ours wasn't...ours was the easiest thing I've ever done. We both agreed and had commented on it several times over the last 6.5 years.  How lucky we were to have our best friend and that we didn't have to work at it.  I want my luck back.

I miss Daddy, too, sweetheart.

I Didn't Sign Up for This

The morning after the last post (so the morning of 2/3) Laura told me out of the blue...twice..."I love you Mommy"  She has never said it unprompted and out of the blue before.  I have to believe that the message came from you through her. <3

But I didn't sign up for this...this crap.  I didn't sign up to be requesting certified copies of my husband's death certificate at the age of 32.  Didn't sign up to be filling out life insurance claims. Didn't sign up to be a one-income household.  Didn't sign up to be requesting social security benefits. Didn't sign up to have 2 out of 3 grave sites filled already.

I didn't sign up to be a fucking single parent.  Didn't sign up to be telling my 2 year-old that Daddy isn't coming home, but that he loves her very much and we can see him in pictures.  Didn't sign up to know that my 8.5 month old will never even remember her Daddy...that all she has are 8 months worth of pictures.

I didn't sign up to make sure all our plans for our girls happen by myself...camping, fishing, 4-wheeling, Yellowstone, Disney World, softball, soccer...LIFE.  Didn't sign up to do the bedtime battle by myself.  Didn't sign up to be the only one to juggle schedules, doctor's appointments, meals.

I didn't sign up for only a 6.5 year marriage. Didn't sign up to be a widow at 32.  Didn't sign up to figure out how I'm going to do this "by myself."

They say that God doesn't give you more than you can handle.  I don't know about that...I don't know how I'm going to handle this.  I'm NOT handling this. I DON'T WANT to handle this.  I didn't sign up for this.

Remembering

There are so many things I wish I could hear you say just one more time.  Or annoying habits that I could re-live outside a memory. You are everywhere I turn...dirty work clothes still laying on the bathroom floor, lunch box on top of the fridge, pile of crap treasures on the counter by the sink next to your thermos, 500 pairs of shoes by the washer & dryer, a shop full of tools/treasures, a driveway full of toys.  Everywhere I go you're here...but you're not.  And it's like a stab in the chest.  I think part of me is still waiting for you to come home.  Waiting for that sense of relief to see your headlights pulling into the driveway.  Waiting to feel your arms wrap around me, thanking me for being such an "awesome" wife and letting you go "play."  sigh  If only.

Laura has asked about you...she's still waiting, too. The first time she asked "Where my Daddy go?" I told her that you were in heaven and we couldn't see you anymore.  She told me "5 minutes Mommy...I hug him."  tears  A couple nights ago she asked "Where my Daddy go" again, when we were getting out of the shower.  I told her again that you were in heaven.  "Where heaven at?"  By the moon and the stars, sweetheart.  "Daddy accident?"  Yes, baby.  And then she went on about her night.  Saturday night, when we got home, she told me she was going to wait in her car seat "Daddy get me."  You know this had been her M-O the last several weeks.  So I told her again.  And she melted down...bawling, wailing.  And I cried right along with her as I fought her to get her out of her  car seat "NO MOMMY DADDY GET ME."  My mom told me that when she took her to her house yesterday, out of the blue in the car she said "My Daddy loves me, Gama."  So I have to believe that you are here, there, everywhere trying to help her understand. Trying to help me understand and cope.  But I don't...I don't understand why we are in this position after all the heartache we have already endured.

Remember all those times you would give me a bad time about me always being older than you?  I'd retort that you were born in April, me in November of the same year.  I guess you were right...I will always be older than you because you will forever be 32.

Remember all those times you told me that the girls would be ok as long as they had their Mommy?  I vehemently disagreed, telling you it was just a stage...that they would turn into Daddy's little girls and they needed you just as much.  I'm calling a truce on that...they have me, but they still need you. I still need you, damn it.

Remember when you'd ask for my "permission" to buy another toy, another rifle, another tool..."at least you'll have lots of shit to sell if anything ever happens to me."  Not funny.

And remember when you'd say, "You know I don't say it very often, but I love you and I hope you know how much by my actions...actions speak louder than words."  I knew...I know.  But I would give anything to hear you tell me just one more time.  I love you...I LOVE YOU.  And I wish I would have told you more often, wish that I could tell you one more time.

I Should Have Seen It Coming?

Maybe I should have seen it coming. I keep replaying random events of the last 6-9 months over and over in my head, connecting the pieces.  Conversations we had, comments that were made, things we did...at the time they didn't seem out of the ordinary.  Now they seem extraordinary.

Last Thursday morning, the day you left for your trip:  You told me to have fun with the girls and that you wouldn't be around to annoy me.  Haha...not so funny now.

Last Tuesday night:  You were irritated with me because I was going to cancel a doctor's appointment instead of trying to make arrangements for the girls since you were going to have to work late.  You made the arrangements for me and said, "See, that wasn't so hard.  I did it for you so you wouldn't have to ask for help."  I admitted that I don't like asking for help.  You replied: "Well you need to get better at it."  At the time I rolled my eyes...now I'm eating my words trying to figure out how in the world I'm going to do this by myself WITHOUT asking for help....I'm not.

Last Tuesday night:  You came home from work to get me and the girls to go with you to buy the groceries for your trip.  This NEVER happened before.  You ALWAYS went by yourself for trip-groceries. But Laura has recently discovered the kid-sized shopping carts and LOVES to "shop".  When I asked if you were sure you wanted to take us all along, "Sure...why not.  Laura will have fun and i haven't seen her "shop" lately."

This past winter:  You were adamant about building a bookcase for Clara.  I tried to get you to just go buy one but you insisted that it was something you wanted to do for her, so she would have something from you.  Ok...made sense.  You had made Laura a quilt rack.  But looking back, you worked your ass off to get that bookcase (mostly) finished before your trip.

Christmas:  We had agreed not to buy each other gifts.  To focus on the girls and nieces and nephews.  "Santa" brought me a diamond necklace and coordinating necklaces for each of the girls.  The only diamonds you had ever bought me was my wedding ring and a pair of studs for my birthday a few years ago...that I picked out.  You did this on your own and were so proud/excited for us to open them.  You said, "I wanted my girls to have matching necklaces from me...something you'll all always have."  Aw....how sweet.  And now I am so very thankful that you were hard-headed and didn't abide by our "no gifts" rule.

Last fall:  You asked me to check on preference points.  I did...we missed the deadline by one day.  Apparently we must have missed a couple years because not only did you miss out on buying any, you lost all those you had accumulated.  I thought you were going to be pissed...you shrugged it off as an "oh well" and never brought it up again.  Looking back, that was SO strange...hunting was (one of) your passions.

Last fall:  You didn't complain AT.ALL about having family pictures taken.  You were not a picture person AT.ALL and typically raged about "having" to have them done and why couldn't I just photoshop an old pic of you into it.

Last summer: You insisted we take a family camping trip, even though Clara was only a couple months old.  Camping trips in the past typically turned into the moms/women hanging out at the campground with the kids while the dads/men fished all day.  This trip was different...fishing took a backseat and you guys spent more time playing with the kids in the sand and lake than you did fishing. It was awesome and the kids had a blast.

Last week:  You told me you were having second thoughts about going on the annual ice fishing trip.  You said it always sounded good in theory, but the night before it's time to leave you second guess going because you're going to miss "your girls."  "But I know they'll be in good hands, because they'll have their Mommy," you said.  Yeah, yeah....go and have fun, I told you. I knew you always looked forward to these trips and it was a short trip this year...you'd be home in a few days.

The what if's kill me.  The unknown suffocates me.  I don't know how I'm supposed to keep moving forward and raise these girls "by myself."  Yes...I have a huge network of help available.  But that's not the point. The point is we signed up to do this together...they are my responsibility and I owe it to them.  What am I supposed to tell Laura when she asks (again) when Daddy is coming home?  Will she ever really understand or will she just quit asking one day?  How am I supposed to make sure Clara remembers her time with you...she only had 8.5 months.  I don't have any answers.  The only small piece of comfort I find is that you were always the most selfless, giving man I had ever known.  You would give your shirt off your back to anyone, never knew a stranger and was always the first to help whomever needed it.  And that's why you went on the trip this year.  Because you saved the life of that little boy.  Somebody was going in the water and if it hadn't been you, it would've been him.  And you couldn't let another family endure the pain of losing a child. So you put someone else's needs ahead of your own, like you always did.  And now Will has his Daddy and you have yours. And until we all meet again, the girls have their Mommy.

And I'm just gong to have to figure it out and make sure they know they have the best damn Daddy in the whole entire world.  I love you.  I miss you.  Every day is harder than the previous and it's only been 4 days.  But I hold my promise to you...I will not let myself sink to the bottom. I will be strong for our girls.  For you.  For me.  Because right now, it's the only option I have.