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.

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.

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.

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.