In Case You Didn't Know

God, how I wish I could have just one more day. One more day to make sure he KNOWS how much I love him. How much I NEED him. <cue ugly cry on the drive to work this morning>

I can't count the times
I almost said what's on my mind
But I didn't
Just the other day
I wrote down all the things I'd say
But I couldn't
I just couldn't
Baby I know that you've been wondering
so here goes nothing

IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW
BABY I'M CRAZY BOUT YOU
AND I WOULD BE LYING IF I SAID
THAT I COULD LIVE THIS LIFE WITHOUT YOU
EVEN THOUGH I <DIDN'T> TELL YOU ALL THE TIME
YOU HAD MY HEART A LONG LONG TIME AGO
IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G21h08qrbss


I have life decisions that need to be made...in particular, a potential job change, a pour-over will, deciding custody of our children if/when something should happen to me and investing the blood money. (Yes, I think of it as blood money). And there is NO ONE here to help me through these decisions. No one to tell me I'm crazy...to offer a different perspective....to reassure me that everything will be ok. No one to tell me that they'll support me in whatever decision I make. No one to plan a future with. It's just me....standing at the end of a limb wondering if I should cling to it or take the leap.

In case you didn't know....I'm feeling a bit lost and abandoned these days.

Stuck in the middle

It seems to be an ongoing battle...caring what someone else thinks and not giving a rat's ass what their opinion is. Right now, I'm stuck in the middle.

There was a time...that seems so very long ago, that I told Sam that she was like the older sister I never had. That when I needed to cry and vent, I could go to her. That I could depend on her for anything and knew she'd always be there. She was there when I miscarried, she was there when we lost Will and she was there...kind of...when I lost Sam. But somewhere in losing him, I seem to have acquired a backbone of steel and that has pushed her away. You know....because I called her out on stealing stuff from my garage and then didn't fall into her trap of trying to turn it back on me.

The stealing confrontation was almost a year ago and we haven't been on good terms since. I try not to let it bother me. It takes far too much energy and really....she isn't worth my time. It's become apparent to me that she's only "there for me" when it makes her look good. When there are other people around to see it and she thinks it makes her look important. Like an outstanding SIL and Aunt to the girls. But when push comes to shove....if it's not about her, if it's not her idea or if it doesn't benefit her in any way, she's not interested.

So why do I care? Why do I care that she doesn't message me anymore during the day to vent or share frustrations? Why do I care that she doesn't "like" my FB posts anymore...even when they are of her ridiculously cute nieces (yes, I'm biased). Why do I care that she didn't wish me a happy mother's day? That she(they) didn't make it a priority to be at DD2's birthday party or any of the girls' events this summer? Well...that last one is easy to explain. I care about that because Sam and I spent HOURS of time coaching their kids, following them OUT OF STATE to support them in their events all in anticipation that the support would be returned. Foolish, apparently.


But the rest of it? Why do I let it bother me? It's not like I need her approval or acceptance. I'm a grown adult trying to raise two girls...I don't need a caretaker. I have strong relationships with many friends, with my family, with my MIL. I have a successful, flexible career that provides for us without assistance from anyone. I have resilient kids who like to be busy, active and involved. I'm taken my health and fitness into my own hands and it has empowered me to try to be better, everyday.

But it does bother me. I stalk the "likes" on my posts to see if she (or him) has supported it. And when their name doesn't show up in a list of 100+...disappointment and resentment sets in.

WHY?

I think, at the core, it's because I feel cheated and deceived. Deceived into thinking that I had a sister-like relationship in her and cheated out of the time we spent supporting their family when it's obviously not going to be returned. I feel taken advantage of and it pisses me off.

But maybe, just maybe, they are resentful of me. Because I, obviously, don't NEED them to survive this life. I don't NEED them to coddle me. I've become very self-sufficient. I'm a goal-digger, decision-maker and I do what needs to be done. Is that the problem? That they feel left out of the life I was supposed to have? And if that's the case....how do I bridge the gap without being the one to continuously extend the olive branch? Because, honestly, I'm tired of trying to repair a relationship that has so many weak links. I'm tired of putting myself out there only to be stabbed in the back, once again.

Anniversary

Tuesday, May 24th, should have been my 8-year wedding anniversary. Instead, it was one day past the 16-month mark of my husband's death. And so Tuesday was just another ordinary day with the added sparkle of tears, pressure of heartache and thoughts of what should be. It's been a LONG time since I've had the sparkle of tears in my eyes consistently throughout the day.

Saturday May 24, 2008 was a rainy, cold and overcast day. We shuffled in and out of the hairdresser under rain coats and umbrellas. Dresses were transported to the church in double-layer garment bags and plastic. And then the clouds parted and gave way to the most beautiful late afternoon sun I think I have ever seen. I had insisted on pictures before the ceremony and our timing couldn't have been better. My photographers (two friends) captured these images of us as I was "revealed" to my soon-to-be-husband.

For MONTHS prior, I had made multiple trips to multiple dress shops searching for the perfect one. And he had complained. After all, it was "only a dress." But I will never forget how he looked in my eyes, told me I was beautiful and that I had found the perfect dress. He made me feel like a million bucks.

Our ceremony was small and simple. My sisters as bridesmaids, his brother and best friend as groomsmen. We chose the shortened (still too long in his opinion) Catholic ceremony and it was perfect. The emotion I felt feel for this man is unsurpassed. 

He wasn't one to express emotion freely, but on our wedding day he told me countless times how happy he was, how much he loved me and how excited he was to share the rest of our lives. I know he was happy...and now I pray that he died a happy man.

I haven't felt the level of happy shown in this picture in just over 16 months. Sure, the girls and I have had many happy moments but it's a different kind of happy, you know? Sam and I were perfect for each other. Marriage was easy. Don't get me wrong, we had our little spats but very few knock-down-drag-outs. Because we understood each other, had the same values and beliefs, agreed on budgeting and child-raising and all those big-ticket items the experts say cause divorce. I can't count how many times we remarked that we were lucky to have each other and not go through some of the fights our friends were experiencing.

I have always been a serious, no time for silliness, person. But somehow, Sam was always able to break through that and help me let go and have FUN. Again...none of that FUN for me in far too long. He was a big kid at heart, always joking and teasing to the point of being irritating but loveable. He didn't hold grudges, loved wholly and laughed easily. 

And these are the things I remembered about my soulmate, best friend, lover and the father of my children on what should have been my 8th anniversary. There were no last-minute runs to town for the card he forgot to buy ahead of time. No card telling me how much he loved me, how much more "action" he wanted or telling me that "as long as we have each other, we can make it through anything, Babe." Nothing. There was laundry and dishes and fighting toddlers and the sparkle of tears in the deafening silence and loneliness that surrounded me. Hell, my own family didn't acknowledge that it was my anniversary. (His did, by the way, which was a welcome surprise). Just another day in single-mommy widowhood. I try so hard to try to remind myself of this part of our vows when I'm struggling.

Yes, faith, hope and love remain. But it's not the same. And I'm not sure it ever will be.

One Year

We did it. We've made it an entire year (plus a week now) without him. How can it be? Time has gone so fast...yet so slow. It seems like yesterday that I opened my door to a County Sheriff and it seems like forever since I felt the touch of my husband. It's like living in two worlds. One that keeps pushing me forward and another that longs for the past.

I'm not sure what I was expecting with this "angelversary." I know others were expecting a major meltdown from me, an epiphany of some sorts, some major life change. But it wasn't major, for me anyway. I mean...it's not like I don't think about this every minute of every day. The one-year mark is just another day on the calendar without him. It isn't some benchmark of the grieving process or some goal that says, "hey...time to move on!" It's just another day. And that's what I made it for me and the girls. Just another Saturday watching their cousins play soccer, some grocery shopping and our Saturday evening movie.

I think for Laura, though, it meant more. My little three year-old is very intuitive and in the days leading up to the angelversary, started asking some really hard questions with information I've never given her. I don't know where she came up with it...but she knows more than she probably realizes. And she is S.T.R.U.G.G.L.I.N.G.

   Why couldn't the doctors fix him?
   Why did Daddy like the ice?
   He needed a boat to help him Mama!
   How many owies did he have?
   He just needed a band-aid...a really big band-aid!
   Why did the ice break?
   Why can't he come back?
   Why can't we go to Heaven? Will you take me someday Mama?
   I miss my Daddy. I just want to give him a super big hug.

And this conversation happens every night, as we're going to bed. (Yes, we're co-sleeping...all 3 of us. No advice needed.) I want to shield her from the pain, but refuse to hide the truth. So I answer as simply and best I can...and a lot of times, my answer is "I don't know, punkin." And we both have a breakdown, a release of tears and emotion and fall asleep in each other's arms. I know the questions will keep coming, with more detail each time...until she can somehow find resolution and peace in her little heart.

People still ask how we're doing. The answer is still "ok...fine...hanging in there" or some other variation that slides out of my mouth. The truth?  See above. It's a daily struggle. Often times, it's like standing outside a window watching everyone's lives go on while mine is at a standstill. The world is one big blur moving around me, no decision is ever easy and it's lonely. So very lonely. And until you are wearing these shoes, you don't understand how there can be people surrounding you...and it's still lonely.

But when we lost Will, I promised Sam that I wouldn't give up...give up on me, us, our plans, our future. And I'm doing my best to hold true to that promise.

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.