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.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Sunday, February 22, 2015
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
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?
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.
So...how are you doing?
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
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.
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.
Monday, February 2, 2015
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.
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.
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