Sunday, June 21, 2009

FatherLESS Day

Dear Brian,

Today is another big FIRST.

It is easier to prepare and tense up for a big blow you know is coming and brace your self to endure the anticipated pain from it than it is an unexpected flick on the ear.

So it is not these big events - these MONUMENTAL 'firsts" that are so difficult to endure. It is the small unexpected events in life - like seeing your favorite CINNAMON LIFE in the cereal section and realizing I am wiping a tear from eye in the next aisle - a tear I didn't even know surfaced.

Today on this first Father's Day without you, Brian. We celebrate your memory. We celebrate YOUR Dad. We celebrate your brothers. And I celebrate my boys - because I see parts of you in all of them.

And I know the Dad that you were to our children in their young years WILL mold them into wonderful big kids, young men, and responsible adults.


Wednesday, June 17, 2009

another nail in your coffin

Dear Brian,

I continue to slowly kill your memory. I am sorry. I do not mean to do this. The world is forcing me. I resent every step I am required to take.

Each week since April, I have taken another step to secure our finances and establish things in MY name.

MY name.

It sounds so selfish. Each time I take the next step, I feel exactly that - SELFISH.

Since you died, the world is forcing me to do all these necessary, SMART, and what it considers to be "logical" things.

Things like close joint accounts and open single accounts.
Things like create a trust.
Things like change beneficiaries on all existing accounts.
Things like change benefits into my name with my social.
Things like change the deed on the house.
Things like change my emergency contact to someone OTHER than my spouse.
Things like take your name off and change my status to WIDOWED on school, medical and other forms.


Did you even read that? It looks like a typo doesn't it?

Each time, Brian. I am LITERALLY erasing your name from my concrete world. My checks will soon no longer have your name on them. Our account statements will soon come to MS ANGELA ONEILL and not BRIAN E ONEILL.

It feels so wrong.

I feel guilty doing all that I am. I am sorry for this.

The world is making me do this. The world is forcing me to gradually move on one step at a time. I hate that they won't allow me to take your name along with it. It's as if the world thinks I should get over it already and move on. I truly resent it all right now.

One thing that will have your name on it forever - your headstone.

Yeah, I am 37 years old and I just designed and ordered my husband's HEADSTONE this week.

Of all things to keep your name on it, I could do without that one.

I miss you, Brian. I love you.


Friday, June 12, 2009

mentally exhausted

Dear Brian,

I cannot muster the mental energy to write to you lately.

Everything else in my life - from establishing my trust, to researching counseling, to handling life insurance and social security, to managing a constant stream of whining and never-ending fighting that is physically escalating each day - is draining all of my mental resources.

I am spent. I am sorry.

I miss you, Brian. I love you.


Thursday, June 4, 2009


Dear Brian,

I am tired of everything being a battle with the kids and between the kids.

But more than that, I am tired of being the only one that is enforcer and referee. Sometimes I just want to close my ears and walk away knowing there is someone else to handle at least this ONE episode. Only there isn't.

And then I have to put on my happy face and take them out in public and then kiss their little heads and put them to bed later.

It is way harder than I thought being the only one to handle these two little boys.


Some days I just want to put my own self to bed early and cry myself to sleep. I don't want to listen to any more whining and fighting and crying and wrestling and breaking and falling and tattling. I don't want to be the only one to enforce and redirect and discipline and tie shoes and run errands and find sitters and watch games and play catch and make dinner and clean up and maintain the house and pay bills. I just want it all to go away. How am I ever going to go back to work and handle all of this, too??

I guess I am just feeling deserted, overwhelmed and lonely lately.

I miss you so much, Brian. I love you.


Tuesday, June 2, 2009


Dear Brian,

What I miss most of all right at this moment....

hearing you tell me you love me

looking into your eyes and that "knowing" look we shared

being appreciated

feeling beautiful

having someone to be beautiful for

your voice

your smell

your facial expressions

your music

the sound of your shuffling feet

your foot rubs

helping you tie your shoes

hearing your snoring

folding your clothes

taking care of you....

Wow, Do I ever miss you!