it's in the air

Dear Brian,

Today you would have been 38. You didn't see 37 on this earth. Are there birthdays in heaven? Since you are no longer in your body, I have assumed there are not. I have often wondered what age you are in heaven. How will I recognize you? Will I be old and gray and you will be forever 36? Do you even see other heavenly souls as they appeared on earth at all or is there an entirely different realm of recognition that we on earth cannot comprehend because we are limited to the senses we use in this earthly body? Do you gain an omniscience in heaven? Can you see us on earth?

If so, then you would know the struggles I have been having lately.

I do not love this time of year. It isn't fair to the boyz for me to have this demeanor right now. This is a fun time for them. They love Halloween and I squelch their excitement becoming Scrooge-like regarding all the stimulation, candy and costumes. Some of my apathy may be warranted - additional candy in the boyz' sugar-filled world and the agonizing costume decision-making process, yet I remember my own enthusiasm as a child for particular events and occasions. Pure unadulterated excitement. The boyz have that excitement but I get so involved in my own struggles regarding this time of year I am not only missing it, I am discouraging it.

This time of year reminds me so much of you and I get very wrapped up in thoughts of you - thoughts that cause me much confusion. Fall was YOUR time. You loved the cooler weather. You loved the crisp air and the preparations for the winter nesting season ahead. You cleaned and organized the garage. You prepared the cars with a good coat of wax for the winter. This is football season and you would sometimes veg out on that couch for hours watching your favorite teams. This is hockey season and you personified hockey for me. You loved Halloween - dressing up, taking the boyz trick or treating, carving pumpkins and eating pumpkin seeds. We did carve pumpkins this year again. The boyz love it, too. This year they even helped with removing the insides of the pumpkin. However, I did not save a single pumpkin seed. As each one was tossed, I thought of you and how you would squeeze through all the pumpkin guts to extract the seeds. I was ever so thankful to have less mess as none of us desired to ingest a nicely roasted pumpkin seed later. I know you would have sighed and shook your head at that, but I am REALLY okay with that.

Additionally, this time of year reminds me of all the struggles of 2 years ago when life took the more certain steps towards your death. When I took the first steps to call hospice as you took a sudden turn for the worse. When you ended up in the hospital again with another surgery. When Gavin ended up in the hospital just a few hours after you were released. I get overwhelmed sometimes at the thoughts of what my life was like, of what our boyz witnessed, of the constant turmoil we lived in the midst of and I simply break down. I don't understand it because I am going about life just fine now and in the midst of that turmoil, we had peace and joy and we loved life. However, remembering it all, it is almost as if I actually FEEL the chaos and trauma that we SHOULD have felt at the time. I guess at the time, God's spirit took control to help us not only survive, but ENJOY the time. Today, God's spirit is with me in THIS present time but I am overcome with emotion at what we lived through.

Also, today is your birthday.


I get sad.
I get angry.
I get bitter.
Mostly, though, I get confused.

Confused because I have all these thoughts and emotions regarding you right now. I know the boyz do to. Confused because life is going really well for all of us. Confused because you are flooding my mind with the past despite that someone else is filling my present. I think it is fair to say that confused can best describe what anyone would feel mourning a past that will never be while they are falling in love with someone else wondering what the future holds for them.

Confused because I can't seem to let myself just let go and enjoy life and the good things that are in it. I find something wrong with every situation. If I can't find something wrong with the situation or with someone else, I find something wrong with myself. I'm not spending enough time with the boyz. I'm helping them too much with their homework. I'm not helping them enough with their school work. I have them in too many activities. I don't have them in enough activities. I have too much to do around the house that I never get to. I need to do more projects around the house. That takes time away from the boyz. I need to work out more. I need to work out less because it takes too much time. Things with my guy are going swimmingly. Things with my guy are going TOO swimmingly for how long we have known each other so something must be wrong. You get the idea.

I continue to sabotage my own happiness. It is as if I have become so guarded in my life and what I have endured that I cannot just allow good things to enter my life for fear of losing that good thing. If I stay guarded and wait for the shoe to drop, when it does, I will be ready. I will stay strong and I will overcome.

Because that is what has defined me for so long - I cope, I overcome, I keep my faith, I move on. It is difficult to change my thought pattern to accepting blessings as things that may STAY. Changing to such a way of thinking opens me up to vulnerability. Living like that means I am no longer afraid of losing.

I see it in every one of us - me, Gavin and Grant.

I see that Grant has changed. He is living for the blessing of today assuming it will still be here tomorrow. And he is happy. Happier than I have seen him in years. It is a beautiful thing to witness.

Gavin is guarded. He is cautious. He finds wrongs in every right. Maybe it is his age and that he is also afraid of accepting the blessings of today for fear they will be gone tomorrow. Gavin is me.

I know what you wanted for me and for the boyz. We talked about it several times. My prayer right now is that we can all move forward with receiving the good times, the good people, the good blessings that are bestowed upon us with the same assumption that they will continue to be here tomorrow that the rest of the world lives by.

I pray this "difficult" time of year and your birthday can transform into the milestone marking the time that Angie and the boyz began living assuming the present can evolve into a beautiful and blessed future.

KEEP BELIEIVNG

how far we've come... & the job

I was perusing through some of my old blog posts today as I was feeling rather nostalgic for some reason. Today, I was sitting at church and I realized that I was sitting alone, clapping singing and praising along and feeling completely and totally comfortable. A year ago, it PAINED me to sit at church alone. I remember the first time I did it and how I continually wiped the involuntary tears that kept dripping from my eyes. It was a constant reminder of my new found and unwanted relationship status (aka. the box you check on forms like single, divorced, widowed, separated).

 I cannot even believe how far I have come in less than a year and a half from the fear, anxiety and overwhelming heavy sadness that plagued me at the thought of school and routine last year. It breaks my heart to read about the pain we were all enduring this time last year...

Last August's posts

But, also makes me feel triumphant at the progress we all have made.

Also, I  noticed I lost weight and toned myself considerably compared to last year's summer photos. So, that is just an added bonus.

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Irrelevant photo to ease transition to next topic:

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Anyway, I wanted to share a little about my job I briefly mentioned in the last blog post.

I have been praying, seeking God's guidance, in the area of my life related to how I spend my time. I was in a pretty selfish comfort zone right now during school time spending a couple hours at the gym working out and socializing with my friends several times a week.  I was also volunteering some at church a couple times a month and once a week in the school library. Still, my afternoons were spent shopping and wasting countless hours on the Internet or whatever else was relatively unproductive. I knew this is not honoring to God. I knew that I needed to do something to become a more contributing member of society whether it be volunteering more or becoming gainfully employed.

In God's perfect timing, a job literally fell into my lap. I was speaking to a friend about a position she just received at a local grade school as an admin assistant working only hours the kids are in school and part time. I said the next time she found out about a job like that to send it my way. She sent me an email that night showing me reqs for all the schools in my district. So, I inquired and received a request for an interview the same day. After the interview, I was offered the job a couple hours later if I wanted it. They were going to cancel the interviews they had the next week if I was interested. So, I prayed about it and called my mom to ask her opinion. The job should be low stress and perfect hours for my situation. However, it is very VERY low pay and will do little to supplement our financial situation. It may extend my 5 year plan to keep going status quo to a 6 year plan (I am 1 year into the plan now). My mom told me that if I didn't NEED the money right now, she thought I would be crazy to pass it up for the hours and for the possibility of what else could come from it in the future within the school district or within the community through connections I may make. I hadn't really thought of it that way. I just looked at it as something that wasn't worth disrupting my very comfortable status quo for very little money. I thought my mom would tell me I was crazy for taking a job like that when my degree and experience qualified me for something much more challenging with much better pay. I liked her perspective and felt it was a very God-honoring one, so I took the job.

I have a couple training and introductory sessions that I will attend the next couple weeks until I start more officially on the first day of school - August 18th. I am becoming more excited about it. At first I resented it as another inevitable step towards being a single parent who also has to work (realizing, of course, that I am BEYOND BLESSED I have not had to and don't HAVE to for a while). But, as Brian always did, I realize my response to this is a choice. I CHOOSE to enter this job excited about the possibility of the lives God will have me impact and of the lives that can impact mine. I CHOOSE to honor God and do the best I can possibly do as if I am serving HIM. Honoring and serving my employer with the same joy and dedication that I would serve Him is His command for us.

Colossions 3:23: Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men...

3/23 is my birthday, so I consider this MY verse. I just didn't know how relevant it would be until this past month. I love how God works like that.

KEEP BELIEVING

getting mad at the dead

So, I've been getting mad at Brian the last couple days. I freely admit this because I realize it is normal and doesn't make me an evil person with terrible thoughts. It doesn't discount the relationship I had with Brian and it doesn't show him disrespect.

I received news recently that a lady I know through friends, who has this really cool business (that's her family in the pic) recently moved to Singapore. While back in the states this summer with her family, Joe, her husband who works for Cat, tragically, suddenly and unexpectedly died in the presence of some of his family while preparing to run a 5K in Florida. Very young, late 30s, healthy man. Heart attack. All their belongings are in Singapore. They have no home and no car in the states. They have 4 children ages 5 to  9. Their families are all from Ohio. They have lived in Peoria for years prior to moving to Singapore.

And I could SOOO totally relate, but then not at all. I had time to prepare for Brian's death. He was sick and it was coming and we were warned about it. She had no warning. I can relate to all your belongings being in another country and having no home and no car. We were living in Canada when Brian went in for surgery, yet came out never performing many of the basic functions of life normally again. All our belongings were in another country. Brian never returned. I can relate to having no home and no car and relying completely on those around you just to help you do basic life duties, but not to the degree that she is experiencing this right now. Not even a fraction.

So my first reaction is immediate empathy for this woman and her kids and what I know they are about to endure. And all the life-changing huge decisions that will need to be made and some of them quickly. And all the uncertainty when just trying to hard to hold it together for the sake of the kids. And just trying to determine where home is on top of it all. And my experiences in all these events are a fraction of what she is about to endure. But, I can relate and I want to just hold her hand and help her, but it isn't for me to do.

My second reaction was anger at Joe. Yes, you read that correctly. I was mad because how dare he die like that when they had a plan. They have a good life and a plan for their future. Now what?

And then I got mad at Brian for the same reasons. We had a plan. We were very financially responsible and had a plan for college and retirement and had mutually agreed-upon goals and lifestyles. We HAD A PLAN! And after living for the past year like nothing has really happened except handling grief and making room in my heart for a potential new relationship and clearing up the emotional air, things are starting to change. I am going to work part time this fall. I am going to have to re-prioritize my gym and work out time and life in general. Grant and Gavin are playing separate fall sports and will require oodles of running here and there. This was not part of the plan. Angie staying home was the plan. A mom and a dad to split the parenting was part of the plan. It makes me kinda mad. How dare Brian die in the middle of the plan?!

And the garage is a mess. I got mad at Brian the other day because I don't want to deal with the garage mess. I don't want to deal with the expired fertilizers and 15 bottles of nearly empty oil and bug killers, etc. That was never my job. I don't want the garage to be added to my already too big pile of crap to do. I DON'T WANT IT! Yes, I realize I sound like a 2 year old. I'm okay with that. I don't want to remember when the stupid van needs an oil change. I don't want to HAVE to mow the lawn because no one else is here to do it especially when I am packing and preparing for a 5 day trip, yet knowing it needs to be done before we leave for that 5-day trip. Life wasn't designed for one person to handle everything. This wasn't the plan. And for some reason the last few days, probably accentuated by the recent news of the family above, I have been getting resentful of my situation and mentally throwing a temper tantrum instead of just handling it like I began doing even before Brian died. I'm mad.

I guess grief still comes up and haunts you at unexpected times even when you seem to be doing really well. I should know that.

So today, I went to the cemetery for a spell. I threw my mental and emotional temper tantrum and told Brian and the air and the ground that I was mad. I cried and talked out loud a bit saying, "This isn't the life I signed up for. This wasn't part of the plan!" Then, I wiped my face and drove home.

Later, I'll mow the lawn.

Because, in the end, this is my life. I have to live it.

KEEP BELIEVING

acceptable dad substitutes

Okay. So, per my very wise mother-in-law's suggestion, I did not make a big deal about or even mention the break up with the boyfriend to the boyz. She suggested to let them lead. Wait to see if and when they mentioned him and then casually mention that we are making time for new friends and haven't had a lot of time to see each other anymore because of that. If I make a big deal about it, I have created another loss for them.

Let me preface this by telling you one of the reasons for my timing of breaking up was that I thought I was witnessing a bond forming and I realized that if I was having this many doubts, then I needed to stop before the bond developed further and my children started to identify with him as a potential father figure. Although, as my and their counselors have told me, even the mention of a date to them will subconsciously begin that kind of an identification to two little boyz who don't have a dad. It is a tough position to be in as far as dating goes, but it is what it is and that is our life. I handle it the best I know how.

Okay, so nearly 3 weeks went by without the boyz having any contact with the boyfriend and mommy mentioning him at all. Nearly 3 weeks, and they never once mentioned him either. So the bond that I thought was digging roots deep into the ground was really more surface level than I had understood. I was very glad to see that and I learned a lesson about ensuring my feelings a bit more before I introduced someone into their life. However, in my situation, it is difficult to see if the entire dynamic will work without introducting them into the mix SOME. They are part of the entire Angie package. They do not go away every other weekend and on Thursdays. They are with me 100% of the time. You can't love ALL THIS without loving ALL THAT, too. Again, it is what it is. And I realize it is a lot.

Then they finally asked. I played it off exactly as I intended to very casually and VERY calmly and very vaguely. But, they are smart little cookies and I knew them well enough to expect more questions. They asked many questions about if I was EVER going to go out with him again or ever going to see him again and if I was going to marry him. I said, "No boyz, mommy isn't going to marry him." We talked a bit about what dating is and how you get to know someone and determine if and when you want to keep dating this person to possibly marry some day and if and when you stop because you realize you don't.

Grant finally said, "Well, you have to get married to SOMEONE."

Thinking he was insulting my ability to continue to do it all, I said, "No I don't. We are doing just fine. We are getting by and having a good time. We are doing good just the 3 of us. Why do you say that?"

"Because I WANT A DADDY."

I'm sorry, excuse me, ooops, sorry. I 'm just gonna bend down and pick that up. I just found a few more pieces of my shattered heart. It keeps shattering every time I mentally repeat that.

He said it a few more times almost like a temper-tantrum-throwing toddler.

I teared up, looked at him and said, " I know you do, Buddy. I love you. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

"Nothing really. I just want a Daddy."

"I know, Buddy. But maybe there is something that you are remembering that you did with daddy or something that you see other dads do that you wish I would do."

He looked out the window  (we were in the car by now) and said, "Well, I think I would feel better if you let me have my next birthday party at Rainbow Playsystems." (Yes, we were driving by Rainbow Playsystems' display area at the time.)

I laughed and said that was a long way away. We would see.

He paused, sighed and said, "And, there is one thing you could do that you never do. You could take us to Chuck E. Cheese."

Smart kid.

I told him I wasn't falling for any of it, though.

I'll just keep trying out my best kung fu and watching more Star Wars.

KEEP BELIEVING

I took another step towards becoming crazy cat lady this week...

So, you may remember from last summer and fall that I struggled with certain things relating to moving on in my tangible world after Brian’s death. One of those things was purging his items and taking over that space.


Taking over his space has remained an issue for me for a variety of reasons, none of which have anything to do with guilt associated with moving on. (Oh what wonders time and God have done for relieving me of guilt associated with moving forward with life!)

One reason I have for not wanting to take over Brian’s living quarters is that I don’t want to accept that I have a problem. That problem being a surge in my wardrobe, thus requiring more space. Facts are facts, though and suddenly my bras and panties do not fit in one drawer as they used to. My shorts are overflowing and constantly wrinkled being shoved into the allotted space they used to occupy. My jewelry will no longer allow the door on the mirror/box to close effectively. Call it retail therapy. Call it a desire to change and update my look. Call it whatever you want. I’m busting at the seams and I need more room.

Another reason I have not wanted to invade drawers and closets that have remained empty for the last several months is that if I admit I take up this much room, how am I ever going to have enough space for someone else in my life? And this is what I know: I want someone else in my life. I want it to be the right person and I am trusting God to provide in this context, but I really want to share my life again someday. If I continue like this, I’ll have to add on unless they come bearing only one carryon and one checked bag. (I won’t even charge for it.)


Finally, to invade Brian’s space means succumbing to both the above facts and facing that I am single that much longer. I know that some people that have been single and not accountable to another adult for extended durations of time can become… well… strange. They develop strange standards for living and home life. Bizarre habits can form. They get irritable and intolerable and easily annoyed. They just get a little odd. I don’t want to admit that I could become that person the longer I am single.



Still, with the breakup of the boyfriend I am nowhere near sharing my life and space with someone, and with the expanding wardrobe and overflowing accessory arsenal, I could use some extra space. I HAVE the space. I just didn’t want to admit I needed to use it. So, I took over two empty drawers this week with my personal belongings.

I guess I will just have to trust in the efficacy of Space Bags if I ever do find love again.

KEEP BELIEVING

soo... it's been a while...

Wow. May 17th was the last time I wrote. Really??  Kinda hard to believe considering this was such a staple in my life a year ago.


So many people from so many different areas of my life read this blog – Brian’s family, the boyfriend, my family, my friends, Brian’s coworkers, his friends, etc. Moving on with life and trying to be sensitive to so many different people’s feelings, grief and concerns makes finding a topic to write about difficult at best.

I will tell you some things that have been going on in the last two months.

Grant’s tube surgery went fine, but he currently has an ear infection. It is draining out the ear which is what the tube is designed to do, but it is keeping us out of the pool during this very hot week. I talked with Grant’s teacher at the end of school. She said he finally started to come out of his shell and talk more openly in class including talking about Brian. Grant does not AT ALL like to be singled out for being different. Having a daddy that is dead makes him very different. She said that many of the children asked questions about his daddy in heaven and he told them he died from surgery. She interjected that it was cancer and he said surgery and cancer were the same thing. This makes me so sad – no wonder he was so afraid of the surgery.

Grant is like a different kid since school has been out. Admittedly, I have not been encouraging much time spent on academic or learning activities like flashcards and reading. We have been at the pool, watching TV, playing Wii and at baseball. He really just hates school. I am having him evaluated soon to determine if he has some sort of attention issue or other factor contributing to his dislike of all things school related. I just want to help him and learn how to better keep my cool given his attitude.

The boyfriend is no longer my boyfriend. I have no doubt that someday he will make someone very happy, but we are just wrong for each other in the way we handle, approach and respond to life, adversity, and relationships. Not to say that either of us is wrong or right, but just different and for the long term – incompatible and probably a recipe for resentment. That’s all I have to say about that.

Gavin has declared he is skipping high school. Upon further investigation into this declaration, it stems from a discussion we had in recent weeks in which I told him that in high school you will take showers in front of other guys after P.E. I told him this in an effort to get him to stop freaking out so much about his brother or a friend that spends the night seeing his privates for a brief second. It completely backfired and now he is petrified of high school. I told him by the time that comes around he won’t care anymore and he will WANT to take a shower because he will like girls again by then and girls like boys that smell good.

I defrosted my deep freeze today for the first time in 2-1/2 years. It was all frosted up, but it still worked. It was my sister who explained it could break if I didn’t get the ice off the coils that finally led me to defrost it. It wasn’t even that much of a pain in the butt. Only mildly. I have to put the seafood and chicken back in it now. My hands got cold after handling the beef.

That's it for now!

KEEP BELIEVING

random bits of life

It's been a while, so I thought I would write a few things about life around here.


I didn't realize how long it had been until I had someone a day or two ago tell me they hoped all was well with Grant's finger. I realized that the last post I wrote left everyone hanging on a thread regarding our spring break and Grant's bone trauma. I am sure you have all lost tremendous sleep over this.

1) Grant's finger issue was pretty minor. We got in to the see the ortho before we left for our trip. Ashamedly, I cried a bit when they told us it would be a couple day wait, and I asked if it was okay if we just waited 5 days til we returned. They got us in that afternoon. The probably thought they should see the kid whose crack mom didn't believe he broke the finger in the first place and is now prioritizing their trip over his appointment. The P.A. who saw Grant said he couldn't even see the break from the first x-ray. The side view showed it, but it was so minor. Literally, he took a piece of latex, surgical, first-aid type tape and taped it to the finger next to it. He told us to do that for 3 weeks. We don't even need to follow up. Thank the Lord we got in before our trip or it would have been a long 5 days of keeping that finger clean and dry in that splint.




2) Our trip was only delayed a couple hours. We drove through a major thunderstorm system for about half of our 5 hour trip dropping torrential amounts of rain on us. We made it, though. We spent a couple days in Kentucky visiting my brother and his family. Then we went to my mom’s for a couple days, doing things like this:

3) The boyz were ALL ABOUT the youth sized 4-wheeler this time. My dad had it running really well. It was starting on the first try and it seemed like 1 of the 2 of the boyz was on it at all times. They put some serious miles on that thing Friday and Saturday UNTIL... Gavin rolled it into their lake. FOR REALS. FREAKED ME THE EFF OUT! It was in shallow water and he totally could have been pinned if he had reacted differently. I still get shivers down my spine to think of what could have happened. Gavin went for a little swim, I guess, as he was drenched from his helmet to his Heely's. I have never experienced two such broad spectrums of emotions simultaneously - pure relief he was okay and pure anger that was so careless.



4) My dad got the 4-wheeler running again a few days after we left. That man can fix anything. Always has been able to. We have always loved that about our dad!



5) Still dating the same dude. He's nuts about me and thinks I'm awesome and hello? of course he's right. And he's met my boyz - seen Grant as his near worst and tolerated Gavin's know-it-all-ness and "you-guys-should-just-get-married” comments - yet he continues to stick around, so I think he's pretty awesome, too.



6) Gavin had a trash-is-in fashion show to celebrate earth day today. He wore a newspaper hat and a bunch of snack food boxes all over his body. He looked like an idiot compared to some kids whose parents taped and fastened gift bags and newspaper and grocery sacks and boxes to resemble shirts, dresses, pants, belts and accessories. His mom must not love him as much. Or his mom just gets burned out on homework. Take your pick. Technically speaking, though, they all looked like idiots. They were wearing garbage for clothes.



7) Grant's hearing issue continues. He is getting tubes May 19th. He was very excited at first because he heard the scheduler tell me it would probably be a good idea to let him eat late on May 18th because he can't have anything after midnight. He heard, "Keep Grant up til Midnight and let him have a midnight snack." I told you his hearing is messed up. I humored him and told him that yes he could have a midnight snack on May 18th. He bragged about this to Gavin when Gavin got home from school that day. The next morning, the reality of the SURGERY part of the equation hit him, and he cried and had a tummy ache because he doesn't want to get tubes in his head. I think he is over his fear for now.



8) What would have been my wedding anniversary came and went with absolutely no fuss and almost no mention whatsoever this week. That was pretty nice.



9) There is a major detour on the main road leading to my neighborhood. The road is closed for several months about 1/4 mile before my street and reopens about 1/8 mile before my street. I have to drive over 3 miles out of my way through several stoplights and stopsigns to get into my neighborhood. That closed road is the road to school, the gym and my main route into town thus causing me much pain-in-the-butt-edness. I'm OVER it and it has been closed for all of 10 days.



10) 5 weeks of school remain from TODAY!  I consider this a good thing.



KEEP BELIEVING

Finding Balance

Finding the balance of moving on with life and being the link to the past and a good mom to 2 little boyz who don’t have a daddy is becoming increasingly difficult.



After the first year anniversary of Brian’s death, I felt an odd sense of freedom. I felt as if perhaps I was no longer under what I perceived was the watchful eye of many on-lookers awaiting my response and reaction to each “first.” And while I had been moving on with life and trying to help the boyz move on with life, I still felt an expectation was upon me to handle each situation with a certain degree of emotion even if I wasn’t feeling much of anything.



Now, I feel the expectations are perhaps dissipating. I am forming new relationships and friendships that didn’t know me as Brian’s wife. I have people in my life that wouldn’t even know I am a widow if I didn’t tell them. They know me as this girl, Angie, not this “you are so strong, you have been through so much yet look at you” 38 year old widow. I can’t tell you how liberating that is. Because I spent so much of the first 6 months embracing the role of grieving widow, reaching a point of wanting to live life again was conflicting to say the least.



In order to reach a point of wanting to seek a possible intimate relationship again, I had to ensure myself I was not in love with Brian anymore. This was especially difficult because I was very much in love with Brian when he died. And because I embraced the role of grieving widow for so many months, I was still fostering that love. Then I started to feel stirrings to advance with this part of my life. I knew I couldn’t give my heart to anyone else if I was still holding it for Brian. So I had to fall out of love with Brian. It was a very guilt-ridden process to allow myself to fall out of love with a dead man that did nothing to me except die.



Today I am very okay with that. I know this is so painful for so many of you that read this blog to hear, but I am no longer in love with Brian. I love and value what we had. I cherish him as I do anyone that I loved or cared for that has passed on before me. But, in order for me to love again and be loved again, I can’t be in love with Brian anymore.



The only difficult part about not being in love with Brian is the pain I know it causes so many others. I know for Brian’s family, friends and many of my family, I am the link that instantly reminds them of him. I know they look at me and expect him to shuffle in behind me at times. I know to watch me move on is a painful reminder of his permanent absence.



So, it is hard to be me. It is hard to be excited about the next chapters of my life when I am with people that realize they experienced the last chapter of that part of their life just by my presence. The book is over. They cannot have another Christmas with their son or watch their brother celebrate another birthday. They will not experience another backyard barbeque or card game with their friend/relative. And they are incredibly sad about it as I concurrently have been able to let go of that and become excited about the possibility of holidays and special occasions with someone else someday.



It is also hard to be me in the sense that talking & reminiscing a lot about Brian can, depending on the situation, hold me in the past. It can cause me heartache and keep me reliving past moments instead of looking towards the future. I feel like I have a lot of future ahead of me. I am 38. I hope and pray I have as much life to live ahead as I’ve already lived behind.



The largest conflict is the boyz. Oh my, the boyz! It is a constant struggle to find a healthy balance of healthy grieving and acceptance. One day there may be a brief mention of Daddy’s ability to play hockey, then there are several days with no mention of Daddy at all, then there are days when they hold tightly to every piece of memorabilia they have and refer to him as if he may walk through the door at any moment. I realize that is grief – it comes in waves and it is unpredictable and illogical. But, the most difficult aspect of helping them handle their grief is knowing that I have come so far in my acceptance and am even eager about what lies ahead while they just want Daddy. I can almost sense that they know I have let go of Brian so much, so they purposefully hold on to try to force me to.



I will always keep Brian’s memory alive for them as much as I can. However, the healthy balance between keeping his memory alive and living in a past life is difficult to find. I want them to have pride about their daddy. I want them to remember the activities they did together. I want them to know about the type of man he was. I want them to know as much about their daddy as possible. However, I also know that they were 6 and 7-1/2 when he died. I know they will likely have spotty recollections from this time of their life at best. Knowing that, for the last year I spent so much effort drilling those memories into them so they will have more vivid recollections, I am no longer sure if I have done them a favor or a disservice.


This is all not even mentioning that they both handle and process life and its issues in polar opposite of each other and the challenges associated with that.



Regarding Brian, so often the boyz seem to live in the past. I want them to have a healthy outlook on what lies ahead of them. I want them to feel empowered and strong. I want them to feel capable and sure of themselves. And Brian isn’t here to help me do it. It’s all me. So, I have started to change my focus from our former family of 4 to our current family dynamic trio. I am more intentional in the role of encourager and cheer-leader and leader instead of saying things like “your daddy would be so proud.” And he would be. I just don’t know the best way to handle having them accept his death, yet want to know he WOULD be proud and also know that we have to live with our current circumstances and use what we currently have to forge ahead in life. I want the memories of Brian to be healthy and to be just that – memories, not what drives them in life, not what they are looking to as their present circumstance.



As I do this, I notice them holding on and grieving all over again. I don’t know if it is good or bad. I am mixed and conflicted. They are reminiscing a ton about Dad. They are sad and I am here for them. If they have questions about Brian, I answer them. If they feel like they need to cry, I give my shoulder. I kind of feel like maybe this is good to an extent, that we have been living in the past to such a large degree that they haven’t really processed as much as I had thought they had. I wonder if their nostalgia and sadness is a step forward.



I don’t know. I just know it is hard. WAY HARDER THAN I THOUGHT. It is complicated to know how to manage and handle it all.



Mostly, though, it is very difficult to find the right balance.



I imagine it will get easier in time, but it’s all gonna be about balance.

our current balance

KEEP BELIEVING

firsts and lasts

When my children were born, I remember vividly the first time I held them. In fact, that entire first year, I spent countless hours documenting and savoring all those “firsts.” I remember the first bottle, but I don’t remember the last. I remember the first diaper I changed, but I don’t remember the last. I remember the first time they crawled and the first steps they took. I remember their first teeth. I remember the first time I fed them baby food. So many wonderful "firsts."



I wish we would carry over that savoring of the precious moments into adulthood. Some of the firsts and lasts.



Today, I have been thinking so much of the first and lasts of my relationship with Brian.



I remember vividly our first kiss. I do not remember our last.



I remember the first time he told me he loved me. I also remember the last.



I do not remember the first or last time we held hands, but I can recall the countless times in between.



I remember the last night we slept in our bed together.



I do not remember the first words Brian spoke to me. I DO remember the last.



I remember the first time we had sex. I do not remember the last.



I remember the first time we flew together.



I can’t stop thinking about the last day of Brian’s life today. To me, he died on the 16th of March. That is the day his body started seizing uncontrollably and he lost the ability to communicate with us. It is THE ABSOLUTE SINGLE worst day I can recollect. I am trying really hard not to recall it over and over today(Brian would hate it if I dwelt on something like that. He'd call it a waste of time and energy), but if I stop for even 5 minutes I am flooded. I am forced to face that day and the entire last week of Brian’s life again. I was numb last year. I would like to remain numb forever.



If I would have known it was Brian’s last week of life, I would not have gone out to dinner with friends on Friday night just a couple days before he would breathe his last. If I had known it was his last night, I would have stayed up all night singing to him and gently talking to him telling him how much he has meant to me. I would have held his hand and stroked his hair. I would have gazed into his eyes and mentally recorded every single square inch of him that I could.



If I had known it was the last time the boyz would see him alive, I would have at least taken a picture. For ALL THAT IS HOLY, the last picture I have of them together is a few weeks before he died. WHY? I sent my boyz away for the weekend. They left and it was the last time they would see his body when it was not lying in a casket. I do not remember the last thing he said to them. I think it was along the lines of “give me a hug, buddy. I love you. Bye bye. Have fun.” But I DO NOT REMEMBER!



Thing is, I should have known. I knew he was dying. I just didn’t know when would be the last. We were told he would drift to sleep and sleep more and more til he didn’t wake. Brian did exactly the opposite. He stayed awake for nearly 4 days on end. His eyes would wander around the room looking for non-existent noises. He spoke to people who were not here. He was dying and we all knew it. How did I not treat every single solitary second like it could have been the last? I was so petrified of being tired and therefore being a bad mom to my boyz that I gave so many duties to our family and friends – including staying up at night with him.



I was ready for the sleep. I was ready to sit next to him and watch him peacefully drift out of this world. I was prepared to hold his hand, stroke his hair, sing him songs and pray with him as his soul left this world.



It didn’t happen like that.



I don’t know why.



I don’t know if I will ever overcome the regret of how I spent those last few days.



I think I will.



I have to.



I don’t remember the first words I said to Brian. I do remember the last.



I told him I loved him. I told him that I was a better person for having known him. I told him the impact he had on my life and so many others is immeasurable. I told him it was okay to go. I told him that Jesus was waiting for him. It was okay to go now because the boyz and I were going to be just fine thanks to how he has shaped us. I told him I loved him.



I don’t remember the first words Brian said to me. I do remember the last.



He said, “Yeah, I love you too.”



Those were the last words Brian ever spoke.



He loved me.

He loved me.

He loved me.

I loved him.

I loved him.

I loved him.



If we could all be so intentional in words and actions as though they could be our last, the world would be a better place.

Our first photo together. February 1993

Last photo we took together, February 14, 2009. An entire month before he died.

KEEP BELIEVING



I apologize for this post being all over the place. I lost my original. I have been so BUSY today intentionally. If I stop, I am overwhelmed. I stopped just long enough to write this. Now, I am off to being intentionally busy again.

1 year ago

Been flooded with "1 year ago" thoughts the last month.

Like the last soccer game Brian was ever able to attend. I don't remember it, but i know it was in February some time.

Like the last time he left the house - it was to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, enjoy a couple microbrews and some wings, and his entire family - brothers, wives, parents, nephews and nieces - were there. It was so windy he could barely walk in the door. He could barely walk anyway. That was March 8, 2009. It was also the last night we would ever sleep together.

March 9, 2009 was the last morning he ever woke in our bedroom. He came down the stairs, went to sit in a kitchen chair, fell, and never walked up or down those stairs again.

March 9, 2009 was the first day of the week leading up to his death.

It was the strangest week of my life. So many blessings. So many regrets.

I can't stop thinking about it.

KEEP BELIEVING

(Tooth) Fairy Tales and other happily ever after farces…

In two days time this week, I have witnessed a couple of instances of fairy-talish happily ever after via mainstream media - the season finale of the Bachelor and the Tooth Fairy movie. And both of them set the wrong way with me.



Let me start by telling you I LOATHE the Bachelor. I detest every single solitary second of the pining away over the ever-so-difficult decision of being in love with two different girls at the same time. DUDE! IF YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH TWO GIRLS AT THE SAME TIME, THEN YOU ARE NOT REALLY IN LOVE WITH EITHER OF THEM!!!! And by the way, what got you there was NOT REAL. It was in front of a camera. It was in a tropical or other paradise. It was all expenses paid. It is NOT REAL LIFE!!! So, how can you know whether or not you love this person when you come home from work each day? How can you know if you love this person after they look like crap and were lying on the couch sick all day? How can you know if you love this person when you have to cancel plans because something else came up and you totally let them down? YOU CAN’T!! I hate the freaking show. Because it is about as UNREALISTIC as it gets regarding love and relationships today.



Yet millions flock to watch this show and make judgments on the girls’ character, values, etc. based on what a few biased producers/editors want to show them based on the fact that THEY are looking to make money with the show. So, YES, they are going to make a couple girls look like total Bee’s with itches in order to boost some ratings. Because February? Is a SWEEPS month for television. And high ratings in SWEEPS months equals big bucks for advertising on that station next year.



Some of the millions that flock to this show are my girlfriends. So, for the last two years, we have had BACHELOR parties to watch the season finale. Last year, I wore my wedding veil and shoes and pearls to mock my friends. This year, I hosted the party. I’ve lost about 10 pounds since last year. So, this is how I hosted:

A couple of others joined in the fun including a surprise visit from Napoleon Dynamite. He noticed I was drinking 1% milk. He asked if it was because I thought I was fat. Cuz I’m not. He said I could drink whole if I wanted. He’s so smooth.

The second fairy-tale I experienced was taking the boyz to see the Tooth Fairy. (Spoiler Alert) This movie is based on an aging, brut hockey player who is trying to woo Ashley Judd as he dates her. She wants to see how he interacts with her two kids including a middle-school son and a daughter at tooth-losing, tooth-fairy believing age. I would say 6ish. He is sentenced by the fairies to do tooth fairy duty for a couple weeks due to his constant crushing of dreams by telling kids to aim low and that their chances of making it big are slim, etc. because that is his own experience in life.



My issue with this movie isn’t the fairy aspect or the shrinking paste or the amnesia dust or invisibility spray or the random disappearing into a swirling colorful vortex. My issue with this movie isn’t even an issue I would have had 6 months ago. My issue with this movie is taking my boyz to see it and wondering what goes through their minds, wondering if they caught on to the happily-ever-after theme of a man trying to woo a single mom with kids who had no apparent father figure in their life (no mention of Dad at all), a man who had little interest in the boy at first, but gradually (after two whole encounters) assumed the role of mentor and encourager in the boy’s life. I wondered what went through their minds as they saw this man who was obviously smitten with the beautiful mom become just as smitten with the kids and develop into a part of the kids lives.



All before the 2-week tooth fairy sentence was over.



It is obviously a sign of the time of my life when the largest concern I have over a movie is whether or not my boyz are buying into the “happily ever after” concept as it pertains to their own situation. I just don’t want to feed them any unrealistic expectations. I worry about what they think is going to happen next in their lives.



I notice how they so badly crave adult male attention – so much so that they act like idiots when they do get it. They really don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to help them. It breaks my heart.


So I wonder how they process watching TV or movies where the parents are not married or a parent is not present (hello Disney movies) and what events unfold in the characters' lives.



Gavin randomly mentions that I should just get married again. According to him, I’d be less sad, there would be someone else to help me and he would have someone to play catch with and wrestle around with. Someone else could take him to play his sports and stuff like other dads. Yes, he says this.



Grant never says a word about it, but he is the one that acts completely goofy and says really off–the-wall and sometimes alarming things to get the attention of adult males around him.



The void in their lives is apparent only to me. I obviously don’t point it out to them. Others don’t notice it and would think Grant to be strange or rambunctious or violent.



I see two fragile little boyz who have had a rough life chock full of harsh reality. I see two little boyz that loved their daddy and miss everything he was to them. I see two little boyz that I want to protect and help. Part of that protection is keeping them from having unrealistic expectations and believing in the fairy tale.



I guess because I don’t believe it myself. Not that I can’t get re-married some day. Just knowing it is way more complicated than the movies and TV.



Sometimes I wish I could believe in the fairy tale version. I hate that as adults we get so beat down with reality it causes us to stop believing.



As I have said in the description of the blog and in the “about me” section, the title of this blog used to pertain to Brian’s healing and health. He is completely restored in heaven now. Now the title pertains to the boyz and I finding our place in this world. As a good friend once encouraged me, it is a fluid statement relating to whatever season and circumstance the boyz and I are experiencing. It didn't end with Brian. Whether it is doses of reality, fairy tale endings or something in the middle, I find it very fitting today to close with…



KEEP BELIEVING

those boyz of mine...

It is becoming increasingly difficult to write things on this blog at times. I lack inspiration. Brian gave me some pretty amazing material with his constant inspirational attitude and demeanor despite his circumstances. Strange things have been happening in my life, which I refer to as the "widow phenomenon," but I can't really write about them because they are very personal and involve some that read this blog. I have a boyfriend, but I don't wanna write about that yet because, once again?  personal. We'll see where it goes...maybe someday... So, I will write about the boyz and some funny things they have been up to.

Yesterday, Grant was explaining to me how a second grade girl has been bullying him by calling him names and taunting him.
Me: Grant, do you know why she is doing that to you?
Grant: Because she is mean.
Me: No, because she likes you.
Grant: She hates me. She always calls me loser.
Me: No, girls do things like that when they like a boy.
Grant: Are girls' brains stupid or something?
Me: Well, we can do pretty silly things to get the attention of a boy we like.
Grant: How do you know?
Me: I hate that I have to remind you so often, but I AM a girl.
Gavin: Did you bully Daddy?
Me: Well, not exactly, but I wasn't always nice. Neither was he.
Gavin: Did you call him loser and chase him and throw snowballs at him?
Me: No, but I sometimes acted like I didn't care or would ignore him and stuff like that to see if he would like me and come after me. They usually didn't work on your Dad.
Gavin: No mom, you should have done this: You go up to someone. You say, "Your shoes are cool," then you walk away and they will come after you.
Me: Girls are supposed to tell boys their shoes are cool and walk away??
Grant: Yes, Mom. It really works.
Me: I didn't know that secret. Are you sure it isn't boys that are supposed to tell girls their shoes are cool?
Gavin: Mom, it doesn't matter. You just go up to someone and say, "your shoes are cool," and walk away. It will totally work every time.
Me: Did you learn this on ICarly?
Grant: No.
Me: Drake and Josh?
Gavin: Yes. It works.

We spent the next few minutes with my boys complimenting my socks because I wasn't wearing shoes and casually walking away and my chasing after them to get their attention. I got a few kisses out of the charade, so it was worth it. I fear their humiliation some day when they try it for real.

(monster truck rally)

----------------------------

Grant barged back in the house in this morning as the bus was approaching the corner frantically crying.

Me: What's the matter?

Grant: I can't find my backpack?

Me: (glancing him up and down) Did you check your back?

He laughed, thanked me, kissed me again and ran off to the bus stop.

If only all their problems were so easy to solve!

KEEP BELIEVING

cemetery

Dear Brian,

I visited the cemetery a couple weeks ago. Been thinking about you and wanted to go to the place we decided to bury you for a couple minutes of quiet (very cold and wet) time.

I hate it there.

I'm sorry.

I hope this feeling won't last much longer.

You see, I can't get past knowing your body is lying 6 feet underground there where I stand. Instead of standing, sitting, walking or kneeling and fondly remembering you, I just can't get past the thought of your BODY entombed below. I feel like I can see you through the soil.

I cannot escape the thought that the same arms that hugged me each evening when you arrived home and held me each night before I wriggled away to my comfort zone for peaceful sleep are in that casket below.

The same fingers and hand that reflexively intertwined with mine are now forever still beneath that frozen tundra.

The same bow legs and feet that shuffled through life those last two years as you lost your ability to move around easily are immobile under that snow.

The same mouth that formed every word and smile, the same tongue that performed many stupid human tricks, the same voice that comforted, consoled, gently critiqued and encouraged everyone around you are now eerily silent just under my feet.

While the grief and the pain of losing you are much easier, the cemetery just makes me think of your body.

I can't get past it when I am there.

I can barely fight the urge to start digging just to see you, which I realize is incredibly warped.

I pray that one day soon, it will become the comforting spot I intended - a spot to remember you peacefully and fondly.

KEEP BELIEVING

(pictures taken on a warm September day)

Tonsillitis

Haven't had the time or energy to blog lately for various reasons.

The most dominant reason being this:

Those aren't actually my tonsils. Those are the closest things I could find that matched mine in google images for tonsillitis. I tried to take a picture of my tonsils, but my camera won't focus on them. My tonsils are even larger and whiter and have looked that that since Saturday morning. And nothing is helping them, including the antibiotic I am taking. And every time I even swallow my own saliva it feels like there are razor blades mixed in with it. And my entire body aches. And I am being sustained soley on hot tea and popcicles. And I am taking more Tylenol and Advil than I thought would be allowed by law. And I am negative for Strep, negative for Mono, and negative for influenza. SOOO, It is likely a virus that I have to ride out. While I ride this out, you will not be hearing from me.

Thanking God for friends that are watching my kids, for inlaws that helped me last night and for my mommy who is coming tomorrow. I just want my mom.

KEEP BELIEVING

Single parenting while sick...

I will start out telling you that I am much better. Still not 100%, but getting closer. For the last 2 weeks, I was sick on and off, where off means Tylenol and Advil performed their intended function, with a cold which gave birth to a cough which gave birth to a sore throat which gave birth to an achy body which gave birth to clogged ears and an inability to breathe like a human being is meant to breathe. And the good news of all that is that at least SOME PART of me is able to give birth. I tried to ride it out, thinking it was just a cold, but after 11 days and being asked by everyone in my life to repeat what I was saying no less than 3 times because they could not hear me while I felt like I was screaming, I went to the dr. and got some Zpac. Within 24 hours, I began to feel better. It has been 48 hours now and I am feeling EVEN better.

It was really difficult these last two weeks not feeling well, but still being the only parent to care for the boyz. They are getting older and don't require as much help. They dress themselves. They put away their own laundry after being told only 15 times to do so. They can start and finish their own showers after being told only 11 times to do so. They can make their own breakfast and put their own dishes in the sink - sometimes even the dishwasher. BUT, they cannot do their own homework. They cannot make their own dinner. They cannot make it to the bus on time without someone assisting them with lunches, backpack packing, and time monitoring. They would leave the house dressed for 50 degrees when it is in the single digits. They cannot practice their spelling words without someone assisting them. They would not read unless someone encouraged them to do so and listened to them do it. They cannot take themselves to and from their extracurricular activities.

So, as you can see, regardless how I feel, there are still things that require adult interaction in the home. Being the only adult in this home, the process of elimination is quite simple.

I rarely get sick. Or if I do, it is usually something minor like seasonal allergies or a pesky cold that doesn't really affect much of my everyday life except my dignity with the constant nose blowing. This was the first time I have been sick for more than a day or two since Brian died.

I cannot tell you how much I missed Brian these past two weeks. The mere thought each day as 3:00 would draw closer knowing the boyz were coming home filled me with dread. I hate that I felt that way, but I did. Knowing that the responsibilities were still there with no one to share in them was such a daunting thought. There was no one to help with dinner and no one to help with homework or to arrange many of the boyz' rides and schedules for their activities or to help with the laundry that was piling up or to tuck them in at night - knowing all those things were still left for me had me in tears a couple of times this week. I hate those moments because I really am a strong person. Physical weakness begets emotional weakness sometimes, too.

Also, I missed knowing someone was available to take care of ME. I know how selfish that sounds. I missed knowing that Brian would walk in that door, do his best to take the reigns and still have enough in his tank to just BE with me if I wanted it. I missed knowing that he would come home, see me in all my chapped, congested, hacking horror, still LOVE me and make sure I KNEW IT. WOW, how I missed that comfort - that PRESUMED love.

So, it hasn't been a great couple of weeks.

• Gavin did the worst on this spelling test than he has ever done.
• I think Grant spent more time in his room in time-out these past 2 weeks than in the past year. I don't have enough hindsight clarity to determine if that was because I was not feeling well and lacked patience or if it was because he knew I wasn't feeling well and tried my patience.
• Both boyz lost screen and snack privileges just about every day this week due to attitudes and fighting. (See above comment regarding hindsight clarity again.)
• We were late to every single appointment and activity they were part of this week. Or frantically rushing to be on time. (Actually, that isn't a stretch from a normal day.)

I feel like I failed the boyz a bit. I also know we will survive. If I have learned nothing else the last 13 years, it is that I am a survivor. It is just strange how difficult it feels to survive when one is fighting health issues and just doesn't feel like it.

It is in that realization that I cannnot comprehend how Brian maintained his attitude and good-nature all those years - how he believed in his survival as his body failed him over and over, how he always reserved some of himself for others around him - for me, the boyz, his family, his friends, his work. Truly, as I fought to control my own emotions this last week, I was ONCE AGAIN amazed at the character of that man.

Maybe that is the greatest lesson in all this.

KEEP BELIEVING

further proof that I look good in pink...

I'm telling you, I SOOOO could have done girls! I look GOOD with all this pink on me:

me and my newest god-daughter:

me and a cousin's baby girl:

me and MaHannah:

Me and all the BAER girls:

Me and McKenna:

But I think I will just be content with dressing in pink and adorning myself with these little jewels:

They make me look good even with no makeup and bedhead on Christmas morning.

KEEP BELIEVING

explaining heaven to kids and other kid grief issues

The most difficult challenge associated with Brian's death is undoubtedly handling the boyz' fears, frustrations and curiosity.


The frustrations come and go. When I notice that Grant seems to be "in a mood" and slightly destructive, it may take me a few days, but eventually, I come to my senses and realize maybe he is missing Daddy a bit more than I had assumed. We talk about Brian some to see if this is the underlying cause. Honestly, it never surfaces that it is or isn't the cause with Grant. He simply doesn't talk about it too much. He also doesn't like to see my cry anymore, which I rarely do anyway. He walks away to his room and hides under his covers. I have to sweet talk him out of his retreat explaining that it is okay for Mommy to cry some because I loved Daddy so much and some things just remind me of him.

This happened when we watched UP a couple weeks ago. Thank you so much to my friends for recommending I NOT see that movie over the summer when it was released. Still, it felt quite refreshing to have a full-throttle sob as I watched Carl, (spoiler alert) the main grumpy crotchety character, release those cumbersome house-toting balloons knowing that was his PAST and realize that acknowledging the present was WAY more honoring to his late wife. I identify with sad widows overcoming their grief opening a path to a new FREE self all too well, even in cartoon form.


But, I digress.


Grant, for the first time, had issues with my tears rather than smothering me with kisses and offering me tissues. The thing is, Grant doesn't miss Brian too much. He was relieved to see, what he perceived to be, Brian's suffering gone. If you ask Grant if he misses Daddy, he will tell you no. I think he does and I think he misses having a Daddy PERIOD, but his frustrations are hard to identify because of his lack of verbal communication.



Gavin, on the other hand, is a whole other challenge. Gavin is VERBAL. Always has been. He will debate a topic to no end convincing me that some day he will be a lawyer or a politician. Since Brian died, Gavin will occasionally bring up the subject of Daddy coming alive again. The conversations usually go something like this one did last week:


Gavin: Mom, what if Dad could move?
Me: What do you mean move?
Gavin: What if Jesus made Daddy's body move again?
Me: Why would Jesus want Daddy's body to move again? We buried Daddy, remember?
Gavin: No, what if Jesus made Daddy's body move and made him alive again?
Me: Jesus wouldn't do that, Sweetie.
Gavin: No, he could. Jesus can do anything.
Me: Yes, He can, but Jesus is glad Daddy is in heaven with Him.
Gavin: Yeah, but Jesus could let Dad come back and be with us.
Me: Daddy wouldn't want to leave heaven, Bud.
Gavin: Daddy wouldn't WANT to come back and be with us? I think he would.
Me: Gavin, once you are in heaven, there isn't anymore sadness or things that make you feel bad. Daddy can't miss us in heaven because feelings like that don't exist there. You don't miss anything in heaven. It is perfect. We can't understand it. I don't understand it. But that is why we all want to get there some day.
Gavin: I think Dad wants to come back to play with us.
Me: I can see why you would think that. If heaven wasn't perfect, he would. The best thing we can do is to keep trusting Jesus to take care of us now and to get to heaven some day ourselves.





It breaks my heart into 10,000 pieces to know Gavin holds tight to the idea that Daddy could come back to life. Do you have any idea how hard it is to explain the concept of heaven to a little boy that just wants his Daddy? How do you explain to a little, literal-interpreting mind the concept of something that NO earthly mind can comprehend, trying to make heaven sound so great when I don't get it myself? Try explaining my little boyz that heaven is so great their daddy wouldn't want to come back and they, too, want to get there someday, but just NOT RIGHT NOW. It is impossible.



Or, at the very least, it is challenging.


I do my best.


KEEP BELIEVING

what's wrong with me?

I am beginning to think something must be wrong with me. When I look back and think about my loss of my beloved Brian, I am not overwhelmed with sorrow. In fact, when I reminisce as I did this past weekend with relatives about what happened this week last year - which was when Brian began showing increasing signs of confusion and loss of balance and we made the transition from fighting to live to preparing to die - I didn't even cry. When I shared with my family and friends some details regarding the boyz' struggles and issues, I didn't even tear up. My loved ones did. I didn't.

I can't help but wonder what is wrong with me. How could I be so cold? I can't help but wonder if THEY wonder what is wrong with me. "How could she be so unfeeling? It hasn't even been a year."

Or could it be that I live with this emptiness every day? Could it be that I am farther in my grief process because the loss of Brian was such a sharp contrast to my everyday living, therefore forcing me to accept faster in order to carry forward effectively? Could it be that when others see me they are instantly reminded of Brian causing them to face some emotions they don't feel on an everyday basis because Brian's absence didn't affect their everyday living? Or could it be that I am suppressing my own grief?


What bothers me the most is that given the awesome marriage I had to Brian, given the amazing mutually satisfying relationship we shared, my loss is immense. Shouldn't the proportion of that loss drive my despair? Or could it be because of our healthy, loving, respectful connection, I feel equipped to move on easier? Could it be that the love Brian and I shared for each other and for our God outfitted me with the ability to peacefully and happily reflect upon my life with Brian as a blessing that will guide my future rather than mourn what will never be? Could it be that I absorbed a portion Brian's infectious positive attitude choosing happiness and contentment right now rather than more sadness and guilt?

I don't know the answer.

What I do know is that some days I feel badly for not being more emotional over my loss.

Some days I don't.

KEEP BELIEVING