My Bravest Moment

I entered the following essay in a contest, while I didn't win, I really enjoyed writing it.  It gave me the perspective of how far I have come and examining my choices was actually helpful for me in the present moment.  While most of this story is not new to those of you who have been following me, I still think that it is powerful in and of itself.


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In an Instant.

In April 2008, I made the impossible choice to move.   At the surface, moving doesn’t really sound impossible or brave, but brace yourself.   March 30, 2008, started as an ordinary and perfect morning.  We had been in the Hill Country of Texas for the long weekend.  We said goodbye to our friends and hit the road.   The sun was shining and it wasn't yet oppressively hot.

An hour or so later, my husband was killed in a car accident. In front of me.  I was in my car with our child by the Grace of God.   The accident decimated his car, and my car was totaled as well.  The sounds, smells and images of that morning are permanently ingrained into my brain.   I remember it like a choppy movie.  Some pieces I don’t remember.  Some pieces I wish I could forget.  

I remember screaming when I knew he was dead-long before anyone actually told me. I remember my car being assaulted by flying objects before I lost control.  I remember willing my car to stop and not go into the ravine.  I remember my brakes not working.  I remember seeing Robert’s car in my driver’s side mirror hanging shattered from the door of my car.   I remember looking back at Munchkin and seeing him hold his foot with one hand and waving with the other saying “bye-bye daddy, bye-bye daddy” while he smiled and laughed oblivious to the carnage that had just happened.  I remember not being able to get out of my car.  I remember getting out and pulling munchkin’s car seat and taking cover off of the road so that we didn't get hit by flying tires, front grills, transaxles, spraying gas and oil that other cars were driving through before emergency personnel were able to close the street.  I remember looking at the responding officer and thinking he looked like a child as he gingerly cleaned my husband’s blood and shattered glass from his wallet before he handed it back to me.    I do remember a friend being let through the barricade to stand by my side.  I remember praying.   I don’t remember crying, at least not then.  I remember feeding my child, on the side of the road overlooking my husband’s mangled car and body.   I was hours from home in the middle of nowhere with two totaled cars.  Most of my family was 1400 miles away.  Luckily my aunt and uncle were only a few hours away-they came and retrieve us. 

In the following hours, days and weeks, I did insurmountable things.  I donated my husband’s organs.   I made phone calls to tell people that Robert was dead.   I planned a funeral. I planned a wake.  I chose to ignore people who were being mean and spiteful.

I slept alone for the first time in 9 years.

I unlocked the door to our house realizing that Robert would never be there again.  EVER.  I marked my 32^nd birthday and our wedding anniversary.   I marked Munchkin’s first cupcake, the first meeting with my siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins-without Robert by my side.  I stood in a funeral home surrounded by chaos and sobbed.   I fainted in my kitchen.  Fairly certain I passed out at the wake, although I don’t remember much.   Well, except my 11 month old son trying to jump out of my arms and into the casket saying daddy, daddy over and over again.  All he wanted to do at the end of the wake was jump into there with Robert.  He looked at him quizzically, I am sure he thought that he was just asleep or playing a game.  That qualifies up there near the top of the most heartbreaking things I have even endured.  

None of those things, while they took fortitude were inherently brave.  They were things that simply needed to be done.  While they were hard, and heartbreaking and traumatizing each in their own way, they don’t hold a candle to brave. 

My bravest moment came weeks later.   I stood in our living room.  My eyes traveled to Robert’s chair.   I looked at the curio cabinet that he had given me filled with angel statues.   I rocked my son in my arms and I looked at our picture wall.   The wall held pictures of memories and snippets of time that were so happy.   I could see that the life I had planned was no longer.  With the screech of tires and shattering of glass, the planned future in our house was ripped from me.  There was no going back.  I would never lead the life that we PLANNED to have.   I would never grow old with him.  I would grow old, but he will forever be 33 years old.  I looked at the kitchen and saw the tile that we installed ourselves.   I glimpsed around and saw where he SHOULD have been.   

I decided then and there, that I would pick myself up and move forward.  I would do everything in my power to provide a life for my child and I would do it in spite of tragedy.  In that moment, I made the decision to go back home.   

Days later, I got on a plane with a one way ticket and headed home.  I took what I could carry and surrounded myself with family.   It was quite possibly the one of the hardest things that I did.  I made the choice to leave our house, the place where we built our married life.  The place that we had called home for nearly ten years-I chose to walk away and rebuild on the other side of the country.  I knew if I stayed, that it would be much harder for me to dig myself out of the depths of despair.    Now it hasn't been easy at all, but I do think that it was one of the key points in my journey. 

That decision was pivotal for me.   Being able to be in close proximity to my family afforded me the support that I would need to rebuild my life.   There were plenty of memories of us here as well.  We both went to school here and lived here before we moved to Texas.  In the following months, I would get a job, and list my house for sale.  

Even though I had already made the decision to leave and sell our house, actually doing it was another story.  It took me several months to draw the courage to head down there to pack up.  Mom and Dad stayed behind with Munchkin, but my siblings, they came, and they brought spouses and friends.  And my Godmother, she left her child home and came too.  Eight of us worked for a week straight cleaning and packing.  Whatever couldn't be packed-was sold.  I sold off our life, because I wouldn't have a house anymore, I didn't need stuff.  While that sounds logical, I assure you it was heart wrenching.   I walked around my house and sobbed, often uncontrollably.  I knew in my heart that I would never again have a place that both of us would call home.   I sold our bed.  I sold his clothes, I sold our furniture.  Essentially, I took what fit into two pods.  The criteria was-if I would be heartbroken because something could not be replaced then it got packed.  If I could go buy another one if and when I ever bought a house again, it was sold.  

I fought through nights of no sleep, followed by flashbacks of the accident on the rare occasion that I did fall asleep after my son’s midnight feeding.   It got to the point where I could only fall asleep with the TV on…it was pathetic-but at 6 am when I got up teary and bleary eyed to go to work, I could have breakfast with my father.  If I needed to go to the cemetery and scream and yell and cry on the way home, my mom or dad would pick Munchkin up from day care.   I fought HARD to put the memories of the accident behind me.  I focused on our time together and happy memories and creating a happy life for Munchkin and myself.   I sought solace in the sand and waves of my parent’s beach house for that summer.   I chased Munchkin on the beach and took long walks with him.   As I watched the waves wash over the sand, I could feel them soothe my broken soul.   In the coming years, I would excel at my job, learn to live on our own again and now I have purchased my own house.  

In spite of the tragedy of losing my husband, best friend and soul mate, I have been able to pick up pieces and put our life back together.   If I hadn't made the choice to cut the ties to a house that was no longer ours, I don’t think that I would be where I am today.   

Perspective on Blessings

2013 was an interesting year for us...it started out with Munchkin very sick and spending a week in the hospital in January.  Frozen pipes, broken snowblower, massive flooding, water in the basement and a myriad of other things.   It continued with major challenges at my job relative to family balance.  I was working way too much and traveling far more than I needed to be with a small child.   I prayed for guidance and direction.  I prayed daily--sometimes hourly.

I was at a NYE party last night and reflecting on this year.   There are a lot of people that had bad years.
 
Here is the thing, when I compare my current bad times, I have not found anything that can hold a candle to the trials that I endured in 2008.  There is not much on par with watching your husband die in front of you.

Time has given me the gift of perspective.   In years past, I probably would have been focused on all of the bad things that happened, I would have been bidding farewell to an expensive and exhausting year.

This time,  I am focused on all of our blessings.

1. I now work from home for a company that appreciates my work
2. Munchkin is much healthier and is growing a ton!
3. I have a house...something that I thought would be impossible after Robert died
4. My family is relatively healthy and I got to spend a ton of time with them this year
5. We got to take a week long vacation...just Nate and I...it was amazing!

Several years ago, I could not fathom being able to say many of these things.  I am grateful.  I am very very blessed.

Life is not perfect by any means, but it is good and we are happy.   I still have days where I miss Robert dearly, but we have found hope and peace in our life.  I have found a way to move forward and for the first time I see myself as so much more than a widow.

A Special Present

Christmas morning, Munchkin was awake at 4:24 am-you know typical time for an excited six year old!  I snuggled him in my bed for an hour and then we got up.  We had breakfast and we opened our presents.  

My best friends mom had brought a bag over a few days before Christmas and instructed it to be the LAST thing opened on Christmas morning.   We agreed. 

Well, nothing could prepare me for what was in that bag! 

 

Several years ago, not long after Robert died, there was MASSIVE flooding in our town and

my parents basement where all of my stuff was being stored was hit pretty hard.   Kate came over to help me clean up and see what was salvageable.  I remember that all of his baseball hats were covered in mold and deemed unsalvageable.  We went to the laundry mat and washed everything else trying to save it. 

Keep in mind, this was the second time that everything was taken to a laundry mat---the first time was with another friend that helped me get everything clean from the flea infestation in my house back in Texas!

Anyway, in all of that cleaning, she took some of his shirts and ties.   She has had them for the better part of five years waiting for me to be "ready" but she had a quilt made out of them.    We discussed it years ago but not since then.  Let me tell you--the quilt is perfect!  It has his Chicago Bears t-shirts, his patriotic t-shirts, his shirts and ties, his car show t-shirts.  It captures him perfectly!   The backing of it has a very subtle music note pattern on it.  I am in love. 

More amazing, is that when Munchkin opened it, he knew that they were Daddy's t-shirts and he is loving it!  I asked myself how he knew, and then I remembered that many of the shirts are in pictures of Robert. 

After the chaos of opening, I found him sitting on the couch reading a book wrapped in the blanket as I cooked.  I thought to myself that it was perfect that I was cooking in the kitchen and he was snuggling with Daddy...even if only in memory. 

Once again, I am awed and amazed by the love that we receive on a daily basis.   I know that my words are not doing this justice, so I will just show you! 

Our China

Many years ago, Robert decided that he wanted to help me register for our wedding.  I didn't generally have a problem with it as I thought that he would be helping with the general "house" stuff.   HA!  Little did I know that he wanted input in EVERYTHING.  When I say everything, I mean china pattern, crystal pattern and even my silver.

My silver pattern was picked for me when I was a baby--and I had several pieces.  I put my foot down that I was NOT changing it.  I actually hoped that he would BUTT out of my china and crystal as well...no such luck.

We fought--I mean really fought.   We actually fought more over planning our wedding than we did the entire time we were married.    I swore that we were never getting divorced because I was never again going to endure planning a wedding!   Most of the strife actually came in the disparity on our family sizes.   His was very very small--less than 20 total and mine was HUGE over 100 with only the closest cousins on each side.  At the time, he couldn't really comprehend how a family could not only be so large, but be so close that they actually spoke to each other regularly.

Here is some insight.  I was brought up knowing how to set a proper table with fine china and crystal.   He thought it was a very neat idea and something he had never experienced.   It was a right of passage in our family to be able to learn to care for and even wash it at my Great-Grandmother's house.   Mom and Nana also served meals on their fine pieces and it was a BIG deal to be promoted to the grown up table.  I had my heart set on the type of patterns that I would get to pick.  I didn't even consider that my future husband would even want to bother with those details.   Boy was I wrong.

I wanted simple china, he wanted ornate.  We settled on a middle of the road pattern that he really liked and I tolerated.  What is important is that the  pattern was the very first time that we compromised.  I served on it often.  I was careful to rotate the boxes so that no one set faded more than the rest.  It was our home from work a little early and had time to set the table dishes.   We used it at least once a week and often times more.

After he died, it was boxed up and moved, and moved again, and moved again and finally moved into my house.   I have not used it since the week before he died.  It seemed like every time I looked at the boxes I was flooded with memories that led to tears.   These beautiful dishes had sat unused for far too long.

I decided a few weeks ago that I would serve Christmas on my fine china.  This was a huge step for me.  This morning I pulled it out, and set the table.  Only, I don't have enough pieces for the entire family so I ended up intermixing my other dishes, but I still used them.   Mom brought over a few settings of my great-grandmother's silver for me to use to complete the table and we had a great meal.   Lots of laughter and love around the table today.  It was the kind of Christmas that I remember from before my life was touched by tragedy.    We were missing one brother and his family that were at his inlaws, but my youngest brother brought his girlfriend and my sister brought her father in law.

I am so grateful to have my family around us and to be able to cook and entertain everyone.  It was a very nice day.

Just a little HOPE

This past weekend after spending a ton of time at the beach with family, we finished it off with going to watch the start of the sailboat race.   The morning was cool and it was a ton of fun.  The waves were VERY rough, so much so that we thought that they would call off the race.    The picture below is deceiving, that concrete wall is about 25 feet above the water....so the waves are coming more than half way up. 

We were sitting on the harbor side of the breakwall watching the waves crash over the lighthouse.  The first boat started and then turned around.   Another one started out and stopped.   Finally, a smaller sailboat went right by us and raised the sail.   As I caught the backside of the boat I noticed that it was named "HOPE". 

That little boat, skillfully sailed along the breakwall and went right out into the lake and waited.   One by one, the rest of the boats, about 30 in all, followed that little HOPE and the race began. 

 

As you can see, the riptides were strong...I mean, the life guards went to the trouble to post signs that "death may occur".     When you look at the pictures of the boats, you can see how far they are all listing.   It honestly looked like many of them would be hit by a wave and flipped. 

 

I am struck by the irony of this.   I am one to choose hope and faith  above all else.  I have always been.  For me, the best part of the morning was family.  I was there with my son, brother, cousins aunts and uncles.   I didn't even bring my camera and I think I took less than ten pictures with my phone.  My cousin is the one to thank for the beautiful pictures.    I sat and was present with my family for some very peaceful time.  Something five years ago seemed impossible.   I let my son play in the sand with his cousins and I sat and visited with the grownups.   It was peaceful and it was   perfect.   So I am glad that my perspective on life allows me to realize what is happening around me and to be present and find joy again.   I am always grateful for hope and joy in whatever way they show up in my life!

 

Last of summer

It seems like we are in a rush to squeeze in every last bit of summer that we can. 

This weekend, we literally had 4 parties in 72 hours.  Tons of time with family and friends. 
We spent three hours at a park yesterday when I was done working.   Then another few hours outside riding bikes and general frolicking. 

Now that the pool is on very limited hours

Our basketball hoop installation is complete.  Munchkin made a basket on his first shot!  Today's agenda includes pool time, Taekwondo practice and quite possibly a bonfire tonight. 

This summer has been awesome.   A far cry from what I was expecting.   See this post HERE

In short we have spent tons of time together and other than one quick business trip, we have been together every day.  We have been to the beach more than I can count and done some pretty amazing things.

Most amazingly I think is that this summer turned out to be nothing like I dreaded.  

As I sit here and reflect on all we were able to do, I am feeling so very blessed and so very lucky.
See once again, God has come through in our lives proving to me over and over that if I just give my worries to Him, then they work out.  Everyday I am thankful for all that He has given us and all of the blessing he has put on my journey.  

I have been given the gift of time, the gift of health (hey we only had three pediatrician visits all summer---that has to be a new record!).   I am grateful.

We have had time to spend with family and time to be alone as our family unit.   I cannot express my gratitude for these simple pleasures.  

The Club No One Wants to Join-June Widowed Blog Hop

Each of us have a different circumstance and a different view.  Hopefully, if you are reading you can find some comfort and camaraderie in our words.

While everyone I have talked to has a different analogy for living life widowed, the one thing that we can all agree is that this is a club that no one is banging down the door to join!  Nope, not at all!  Who in their right mind chooses the utter heartbreak, the sobbing, the brokenness that comes from losing half of yourself?  The sleepless nights, where the icy cold from the sheets on the other side of the bed leach into your bones and make every fiber of your being aware that you are alone, really alone, like no adult in the house to call 911 if you had a heart attack alone.

Who chooses to raise kids, working through grief that are dealing with their own grief by themselves?  Who chooses to have to have tough conversations with very tiny humans about things that grown ups can't even comprehend?   Who chooses to be the odd man out?  To feel completely alone in a room full of people that all have their spouses or significant others?  That's right no one.  Zip, Zilch Nada!

What I can tell you, is that there are a great many people who have taken their circumstances and risen to a place of grace and beauty.  They learn that there is much more to life than the rat race.  That you really do need to stop and pause, because life is fleeting.   That there are men and women whom have walked this path before you and have come out on the other side of the chasm of tragedy and are OK.  They have a new chapter and they have happiness again.  They have not forgotten their loved one, but they have chosen to live and to love again.  

And do you know how they did it?  They functioned one minute at a time trudging through the heartbreak and tears.   Moving forward and turning the page takes time, and it takes work and it is different for everyone.  Don't measure your journey against anyone, just know that the journey gets easier.   Perhaps, by reading our words you can see that even though your pain is so deep that you can hardly breathe, that someday, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, you will take a deep breath and smile.  A true smile, one that will light you from within.

So grab a drink, coffee-perhaps something a little stronger, sit back and walk with us.  

Link to blog hop page....
http://samanthalightgallagher.wordpress.com/widowed-blog-hop/


Samantha of the Crazy Courage blog
Janine of One Breath At A Time
Red’s The M3 Blog
Christine of Widow Island
Tim’s Diary of a Widower
Running Forward: Abel Keogh’s Blog
Tamara of Artful Living After Loss
Jessica at Buttons to Beans
Missing Bobby: A Widow’s Journey
The Grief Toolbox
The Widow’s Mite: Encouragement for Widows
Widowed Yogi
Choosing Grace Today

Blissful Day...

This morning had the potential to be a really, really crappy day.  However, Munchkin awoke in a great mood without a sign of the wheezing that has plagued him all week.  I decided then and there that I was determined to have a great day.  We enjoyed breakfast and then decided to get moving.

I had a bunch of things that I *thought* we should get done TODAY.  Like going to the library and grocery shopping.

Well, while we were out gallivanting, we just had fun.  Munchkin wanted to go to a park.  He picked the one clear across town from where we live, so we filled  up some water bottles I grabbed my camera and we headed over there.  I got some FANTASTIC pictures of his beautiful toothless grin and he was having a grand old time.   He made a new friend and I was chatting with the mom and petting the sweetest puppy.

After nearly two hours of him laughing, he decided that it was time to go.  We went and got his hair cut at the barber.  The barber has known our family for decades and is just a great person.  Munchkin enjoys it and we were just chatting.  I make Munchkin pay the barber and the barber teases him about shaving-it is their ritual!

It was time for us to go see Epic the movie.  It was good, but be warned there are two teenagers who have lost parents and it is an under-story to the plot-of course we picked up on it right away.  It was still a very good movie and the topics were handled well.  Even though you don't know what happened or how long they have lost their parents, you can see the effect it has on them as they go through their lives.

Then we went to the mall and I got a few outfits for me and some makeup.  We shared a pretzel and some silly "I spy" moments.  We were generally just laughing and being silly on one of the benches.  It was absolutely blissful.

It felt so good to just be present in the moment and enjoy spending the day together.   As we were finishing shopping my best friend called and wanted to know if we wanted to meet for dinner.   I of course said yes not knowing that leaving the mall at that moment meant we were heading into a monsoon!   Well, it was raining so hard that we were soaked in two steps so instead of running to the car, we decided to see who could stomp the puddles the highest and took our sweet time getting to the car.  I mean I wasn't wearing a white shirt so there really was not a reason to hurry :)

After dinner, I got to spend some much needed time with my best friend, who encouraged me to get rid of a bunch of clothes that are now way too big so I did, I am pretty sure that I put into the donate pile more things than I bought which is definitely a great thing!

At the end of the day, I didn't get done any of the things that I thought we just *HAD* to get done today, but I think that spending the day with Munchkin in unhurried bliss was just what we both needed.

Chores and Connections

Quite possibly one of the most frustrating things about being an only parent is the fact that there isn't any one to help with anything. When we were married, we had a clear division of chores, inside was mine, outside was his. I didn't mess with his garage and he didn't mess with my craft room. It worked for us. Saturday mornings were chore days, he would cut grass and putz around outside. I would clean inside and putz in the kitchen or craft room. Around lunch time we would be done and go on with our day.

Now, I have no one to divide and conquer with, consequently getting ready for a party at my house is a HUGE undertaking.

This past week, I mowed my lawn for the first time. I have a tractor that came with my house, but it needed a new battery, so I also have Robert's lawnmower. It took me two and a half hours but I did it. As I was using his lawnmower, it hit me, that this may possibly be the only useful thing of this that I kept to use at my house. As my sweat poured down my arms and onto the handle, I had the realization that my sweat was mixing with his once again. It was a peaceful feeling. I am not sure that I have words to really describe what it felt like, other than to say that for a brief moment I felt connected to him once again. Physically connected.

For the first time that I can remember, that connection was not quickly replaced with an empty longing. And I was proud of myself. I conquered the grass...it wasn't perfect and it was messy, but I did it.

The Spotlight

Have you ever been in a room full of people and you look around and realize that you don't belong?  That for some strange reason, you are in a room full of strangers who have nothing in common with you?  It is a very isolating feeling.  

That is exactly what happened earlier this week.   Munchkin is old enough for Cub Scouts.  He is over the moon excited for this.  He has been looking forward to it since his older cousin started a year ago.  

This week was his first pack meeting.  It was crowded and loud and he made friends and had a ton of fun! He was laughing and playing and following directions.  I could not have had a happier boy on my hands.  

I on the other hand, I sat in my seat and looked around at all of the families.  I felt like there was a HUGE SPOTLIGHT on me.  Like I stood out as a sore thumb. 

Over there-yep, she is the one without a husband.  Look at her here all alone.  

I know that it is only in my brain and no one certainly did anything to make me feel this way, it is just how I feel when we go into a situation that is surrounded by families.  For some reason, I thought being in a pack with my brother and uncle would make it less so-perhaps it will over time, but it did not help this week.  I came home and I cried.  The bitter painful tears of a broken heart.  I cried for me and I cried for Robert.   See, he didn't get to do scouting.   His dad did it with his older brothers but he was never afforded the opportunity.  He never actually camped ever.  I am from a scouting family.  We are all scouts and all camp and do things and volunteer.  It is how we were raised.   Robert was so looking forward to doing scouting with his son and us as a family.  Perhaps that is really why it is so painful for me to do alone.  This was one of those preconceived family things that I am now doing by myself.  NOT FAIR! 

I also know that it isn't fair for me to hole us up indoors alone, so we go out and do things.  We join scouts, we do family activities at school.  We show up and we do.  I know that our family is not unique.  I get that.  I know there are plenty of widowed moms and dads in the world.  Just wish there was one or two kindred spirits in our circles.  Then I feel horrible for wishing that, because I would not want ANYONE to go through this heartache and pain.  I actually wish that this didn't happen in the world.  You know, you get married, you have your family, your live happily ever after and no one dies, and no one has pain and heartache and grief.  Unfortunately, the world is not full of puppies and rainbows and vanilla scented unicorn farts! It is messy and hard and painful, but it is worth it.   

This weekend is the family camp out.  We are packed and ready to go.   My brother will be staying with his son, his wife will be at home with their daughter.   From what I understand, most families will be "half" families.   This knowledge doesn't help me feel less lonely.  For some reason it makes it more so.   

From the Bad to the FANTASTIC!

My day didn't start off well at all.  Nope, not even close.

Started with walking into work and someone making the comment, that they emailed me and I didn't answer.   (Here's the thing, I don't check email while I am driving, not gonna happen, there is nothing that could happen at work that is so important that I would risk losing my life for!) Sure enough, he did, in the middle of my commute...I blew it off and moved on with the day.

I had my son apply for a scholarship for one of his summer camps, I asked him to put it in his backpack and turn it in at school.   Where do I find it?  You guessed it, in MY backpack! UGGHHH!

Work was chaotic, and trust me that is putting it nicely, I spent my entire day putting out fires and dealing with crap.  Literally when I was about to lose my cool I took a deep breath and walked up and down five flights of stairs and said a prayer that my day would get better. I got back to my desk and  I had an email.

See here is the thing.  I know all too well that things change in an instant.  Literally in the blink of an eye.  I am just used to that blink making things bad, not good.   It made me totally unprepared for the rest of my day!

It was from Munchkin's teacher telling me how much she enjoys him and how hard he has been working.  That he is always respectful and is such a joy.  Ah, a sigh of relief something went right!

Then my mom called, she was looking to buy a purse from me (if you are interested the link to order is www.gigihillbags.com/beckylichucki no pressure, but take a look :) ) Nice!

Then I picked up munchkin, he was all excited about TaeKwonDo and when we got there, his new leadership uniform was in as well as his board to break!  He was on cloud nine and really, that is enough to totally make my day!

When I got home to check my mail, I had a card.   A no reason card!  Those are the best!  My best friend and I have been best friends for three decades (sounds better than 30 years, because you know, I am not really in to thinking about how old I am!)   We have been through EVERYTHING together.  She is AMAZING and loves me for me.  I am serious, she is really the best friend that anyone could ever ask for.  I could not even begin to explain what I would do without her, because I have not contemplated that-ever. She is my rock.

And what was the inside of the card you ask?

"I just wanted to tell you I am SO grateful for everything you do for me and the love you show me.  You are my best friend and a wonderful person, and I thought you needed to know it!"

I am so grateful to have such a great friend in my life!

Mother's Day

What a day.  My mothers day started yesterday actually.  Munchkin and my mom and dad and brother planted flowers in my flower beds.   My sister and her husband gave me a massage certificate.   Munchkin made his uncle take him to pick out flowers for me.  I am a simple girl, flowers and handmade cards are the way to my heart!

Munchkin made me a heart that he wrote I Love you on all by himself. 

Today we started at mass and had a fantastic day.   Dad cooked breakfast, my sister hosted dinner.  In the middle we got a great deal of yard work done.  I am very lucky.  I know that. 

 For YEARS and YEARS I yearned to be a mother.   I used to cry and pray and wish. And it happened, when we least expected it,  it happened. We became parents.  Wholehearted bliss.  I cannot begin to describe the sheer joy that I felt on Mother's Day 2007.  Munchkin was barely two weeks old.  Robert went to the jeweler and got me a necklace with one diamond, and one emerald.  Mine and Munchkin's birthstones.  It was such a special day.  It was the only one with the three of us together.  Robert is the only one who knows exactly what we went through for all of those years.  

I know there are people out there that are not that lucky.  People trying to have kids or grow their family via adoption.  People who have lost children. People that have lost their mothers.   My brother in law lost his mom about a month ago.  He spent the weekend with his dad and sisters.   I know it is hard on him. 

My point is that while I had a blissful day today,   I do know that the occasion can be a bitter pill, I know it was for me for many years.   So today, I snuggled with my growing boy and watched river monsters at the end of the day and I took a deep breath and I thank God for the chance to be a Mother and be able to spend time with my family.   And I hope that all those out there that are feeling things other than joy today find some peace and hope and comfort.  

Late Night TV

Sometimes I wonder if I am the only widowed person, or simply the only person that finds those lawyer ads that are on late night offensive. 

The ones that tell you that kids without dads are destined to be horrible failures addicted to drugs and in jail.  Right, because we don't have enough to worry about.

These ads bring forth so many emotions for me.  Anger that men would willingly choose to walk away from their children.   Solace in the fact that some of them should walk away because they are not good for their children in so many ways! 

I know in my heart that Robert was a great father.  He was amazing and literally waited his entire life to be a father.  

He is not the person these ads refer to.  He would never have left us of our own choice.  He would be here still if he could.  

I know that I do the best I can in raising munchkin and I have a fantastic support system around us. 

Even though it feels as if the ads are yelling at me singling me out, I need to shut off the tv, tune out the negativity and rest in the solace that we are just fine! 

Perfect Moment Monday

Ok a little late but better than never right?

We have had so many simple moments, I honestly don't know where to start.

Munchkin is growing up so quickly. The other night, we were playing in the yard. I love to take pictures, well now I do anyway...it was one of the duties I picked up when Robert died, He took pictures of us every month, documenting Munchkins growth and changes. For several months it didn't hit me that wasn't doing that. The I realized my camera was broken and got a new one and started snapping.

While he was running around the yard squirting dandelions with his new squirt gun, I went inside and grabbed my camera. I was able to capture his joy at playing with his squirt gun int he beautiful light of dusk. He was laughing and I was looking at him through my lens letting him run wild while I snapped away.

I soaked it up. He was being a ham, flashing his big smile and gorgeous blue eyes and my heart was full of contentment to be able to share this time with him.

Sometimes for me or is the simplicity of life without drama or sadness that really recharges my soul!


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Eye of the Storm

Have you ever lived through a hurricane?  When they talk about the "calm before the storm" or the "eye of the storm" it is a real thing and it is eerie.

We went through several while we lived in Houston.  The eye is a surreal experience.  You have been pounded and pounded by wind and rain and then it stops.   Just as suddenly, it stops.   It is quiet and calm, and on more than one occasion, the sunshine came out for a bit and the animals started to peek out.   

Then BAM! Out of nowhere it starts again, the wind the rain, the hail.  It is relentless.  

When you come out the other side, when the storm finally passes, you hope that is the end.  You look and you see the sun, you see the debris, you see the damage.  You see your neighbors.   Everyone is helping.  You chat, you wonder if there will be any "trailing".   You know, other storms that follow the hurricane. 

Grief is kind of like that.  At first it beats you up.  The wind howls, the tears fall, you rock yourself to try and find some solace.  It takes a lot of time but believe it or not, you actually get used to the storm and you start to slowly go about your daily duties.  You get dressed, you do the dishes, you do housework.   After such a long time of being under siege, you are used to functioning at that same capacity.   You wipe your tears, you sleep when you are too exhausted to cry.  If you are lucky you have a great support system to cheer you on. 

One day you wake up, and you smile.  A nearly imperceptible smile, but a smile nonetheless.  You are in the eye of the storm.  You go about your life, you put one food in front of the other you notice the sun on your face, you feel a gentle breeze.  You survey the changes in you and the changes around you. 

You hope and you pray that it is a big eye.   That the storm give you enough of a break to actually clean up and repair a little bit.  You look at the storm behind you and you are grateful that you survived.  You don't take your time in the eye for granted.  Oh no, you know that the other side of the storm looms.  You have no idea when it will hit, but you know in your soul that it will. 

You feel it come, the winds whip at your face and the tears start to fall.   Perhaps it was because you smelled something or touched something that reminded you of life before the storm.  But know this, when you are in the second side of the storm, you stand a little taller, you don't hunker down quite as long.  You have done this once.

The knowledge that you have already survived the worst gives you the strength to stand up and move.  It doesn't stop the tears and the pain, but it does give you the fortitude to push through.   After all, nothing that the second side of the storm throws at you will be as shocking or as crazy as when the storm first came to uproot your life.   You know you can do this because you can.

 It doesn't mean that you go  running and chasing hurricanes-it simply means that when they come to rest at your door, you know that you can survive what they bring. 

Daddy's Toolbox

Ok, a vast majority of the useful tools (screwdrivers, wrenches, etc) were in the car with him when he died.   Some of them were returned to me.

See the morning after the accident (I think??-it may have been a few days later), two of our closest friends drove to where our cars were towed and retrieved our personal belongings.  They brought back what they thought they could save or clean to me in big black garbage bags.   While I witnessed the carnage as it happened, they went and touched the car and went to the accident site and walked around and found pieces of our life and brought them back to me.

I will be foreverr grateful that they had the fortitude and wherwithall to do it.   I know I did not.   I was too busy sitting on the floor of my living room rocking back and forth in tears.  It was all I could do to keep myself from either withering away or exploding into a rage.  I rocked and prayed.


I sat in my garage with my parents on either side and my sister with munchkin on her hip and I opened the bags and I sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed.  I couldn't breathe.  My parents cleaned what they could and sorted through things.   When I could breathe again I picked up pieces of things and started sobbing again. 

I remember picking up our duffle bag and seeing that the canvas was split open and that everything was soaked in blood and covered with the shattered glass.   I cried and cried.   As I touched his things, it was hitting me that he would never again have use for anything on earth including me.  That the morning that he kissed me last would be the last time I would ever feel his lips, his hands his breath.  It took my breath away and I collapsed into a heap on the floor of tears. 

I digress, one of the things they brought me were some of his tools. The ones that were not mangled beyond recognition, were covered in blood. 

Well, one of my brothers wiped off his tools and put the tool box on the work bench.

When I finally went back to Texas to retrieve our thigs, we brought his tools.   When we opened the tool box, it smelled of decomposition.  We cleaned and scrubbed everything.   I mean SCRUBBED!  I ended up having to throw away the plastic tool box.  We had soaked it in bleach, rubbed it with baking soda, used industrial cleaner, anything we could think of to make the smell go away.   My brother at one point took everything to his house and soaked them in somehting else in his garage.  

The end result was that the two other tool boxes that were not in the car now house his tools.   There are odds and ends in there.   Change for the vacuum at the car wash, bits of wire, connectors, evidence of the daily use he once had for his tools. 

Well, munchkin has taken an interest in Daddy's tools.  He has started opening the tool boxes to find things to help with.  I don't use them much at all, I use my little house kit I bought for myself....you know the pink one...quite girly I know.   But this morning as I was folding laundry, munchkin was going through the little tool box and pulling out things and asking me what they were. 

It hit me, things were right and wrong all at the same time.  They were right in the fact that my curious little boy had taken and interest in Daddy's tools. Wrong on so many levels that Robert is not here to show him and enjoy it with him.   My heart hurts with the knowledge that Robert would have relished in teaching Munchkin and helping him learn about the world around him.  My brain cannot get around the fact that it is up to me to do it.  

So I take a breath and say a prayer, put a smile on my face and give thanks that my father insisted that his girls learn the basics of tools. 

The Sleepless Lesson

The other night I had a sleepless night.   They are now few and far between-I am grateful.  It used to be that a night of rest was the rarity!

I digress, those who have insomnia can attest that there is NOTHING good on TV at 3 am.  Perhaps that is by design, but really when you are trying to shut off your brain, some mindless TV goes a long way!     When we lived with mom and dad after the accident, I used to leave the TV on all night.   I couldn't handle the emptiness of my bed and compound that with the silence of my room...well, I had to have some background noise.  So now, when I can't fall asleep I turn on the TV and it usually helps. 


As I was laying there willing myself to sleep I heard a song.  It spoke to me.  

 

"Lift the darkness, Light a fire,

For the silent and the broken hearted"

 

"There's a comfort there's a healing

High above the pain and sorrow

Change is coming, can you feel it?

Calling us to a new tomorrow. "

 

"STAND UP, SUGARLAND"

Wow, just wow.  Those lyrics were exactly what I needed to hear.  I promptly downloaded the song (Shazaam rocks :) ) and fell asleep.

So for the last few days I have been listening to the song.  It is all about using your voice and standing up for those around us.  I have been thinking about what it is that I am supposed to be doing.   What is the lesson that God is trying to show me?  Sometimes He is subtle, sometimes, not so much.  Sometimes, I doubt there is purpose in my writing and sharing of my feelings.  I know that I didn't start publishing until I was widowed for a very long time (relative to a lot of the other blogs out there).  But here is my secret-there were a few widows that I met early on both in person and in their writing that were much farther out.   They shared where they were in their journey with me and it gave me hope.  It showed me that people can be ok and people can be happy and that I too could survive.   Not only survive but thrive in my new life. 

This is not the life that any of us ordered, however, I can tell you that there is peace, there is happiness and takes time.  There are still bad days-but now for me they are few and far between.  The nighmares fade with time and the memories now bring a smile.  Take a deep breath, the storm will clear and eventually you will catch a glimpse of the beautiful blue sky!  Just hang on and keep swimming!

Right Place....Right Time

Today I was on the phone at work. I was trying to find time to fit in an evening teleconference with a west coast colleague. I mentioned....we'll tonight is PTA, tomorrow is TaeKwonDo....the lady jokes..."we live in the same world". I laughed and let my flippant side out.
"we are in no way in the same world"
She replied, "why is that?"
"I'm widowed"
She paused and said she was sorry. She then told me her husband was just diagnosed with end stage pancreatic cancer.

We were both weeping. I apologized to her. Me and my big mouth!

But I told her that it would be ok. She asked me to tell her that her kids would be ok. I assured her that they would. I also said that it isn't easy and it would not be ok for a while and that was ok too, but that yes it will be ok.

Not today, not tomorrow but eventually it will be ok. I know that is very hard to fathom, but just take one thing at a time. I went through months where I had to remind myself to breathe. But a few weeks after the accident a very sweet woman who was widowed and remarried, took me for coffee and told me those same words.

To hear someone has survived and to see them be ok is what fed my hope. It made me find my inner strength to realize that someday it would get better.

Today, I happened to be able to pay that dose of hope forward.

Conversations and Memories

Yesterday was a crazy day...Munchkin had a tournament that went all day...he did awesome and cheered on his friends who also did VERY well.  Late in the afternoon, the parents decided we would all go out for some dinner.  The kids all entertained each other.  They are really great friends, and the grown ups sat around talking.  It was nice and simple.

For one of the first times, I did not feel out of place at all.  My widowed-ness didn't burn through my body.  I actually sat back and enjoyed myself.  We swapped stories of wild climbing boys...discussed parenting and laughed that all of our kids do just about the same stuff!

At one point the conversation drifted-the question came up-WHAT is the best year of your life?  Hmmmm....well one couple said the decade they are in now.   A father said his 30's...his kids were here, a little younger and he had more time. 

My answer was most of the year I turned 30.  Munchkin was born a few weeks after my 30th birthday.  The following ten months, although wrought with struggles, were bliss.  We were a family, there was three of us.  Even though Robert had MAJOR back surgery when munchkin was 3 months old, and it was hard.  When I say hard...I mean HARD.  He couldn't take care of himself, and there was no way he could take care of Munchkin either.  He had virtually no mobility in his back brace.  I ended up taking a leave of absence to care for him when he got home.  We spent months together, just the three of us.  We figured it out and it was great.

My sister got married that year and in retrospect, it was the LAST time that my family was all together in one place.   We literally didn't know until the day before whether Robert was going to be able to fly with us-by the Grace of God he was able to go.  We had a fantastic time.

Now, even though there were great things that happened, the year I was 30, I was also widowed.  I watched Robert die in front of my and my life has been forever changed. 

So in the span of less than twelve short months, my son was placed into my arms, and Robert left this earth.

If someone had told me even 2 days before the accident that Robert would die-I would not have changed one thing about how we spent our time.  That was the year that I really learned to be present and to enjoy what was in front of me.  I think that is what set that year apart for me.   The majority of the year was so memorable, because I was busy taking in the joy of being a mother and being a family of three that I decided to let everything else fall away. 

Friends

This week, two separate people whom I have met in the last five years took the time to call me up and just say hello.   Neither of these people ever knew Robert or the "old" me.  They have only known me AFTER the accident. 

One called to say-"Hey I can't imagine, but I am figuring March is a rough month for you, just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you!"

I am so grateful to call her a friend.  She is so sweet and sincere and I am happy to know her.

Another one sent me a text "He I was thinking about you, and I wanted you to know that even though I never met Robert, I am sure he was a wonderful person"

Again, a true and sincere woman whom I am happy to claim as a friend.

I guess maybe now 5 years later, I have come out of my soul crushing sadness enough to let my love shine so much that people who never met Robert are willing to reach out to me with encouragement and friendship. 

I am feeling very very blessed for that-especially since for the longest time, I could not see the light  at the end of the tunnel and I was pretty much convinced that I would never have another joyful moment.  

I am very blessed to have some lifelong friends who have stuck by my side, in thick and thin as well as some new friends who are showing me that it is OKAY to let people into our lives.