I love the clouds. I love watching them move, fade, change form, rain, darken, thunder... frame a rainbow, let the sun rays through. Today while watching the clouds I was reminded of how quickly they move, how quickly time moves. It's been almost 14 months since J's accident. I often wonder some days how it can feel like its been forever, yet just yesterday all at the same time. I can still play that night over in my head... not a detail left out. I can still feel the pain... feel it strangle my heart. I can still remember his kiss...the last one I would ever get. I remember what he was wearing...the warmth of his hug...then how cold he felt the next time I touched him.
They say time heals and I suppose they are right, but mostly it just gives you time to get used to the cold fact they are gone. I stumbled upon an expired driver's license today... his picture, his signature... and still, after 14 months I found it hard to believe he was gone. Maybe, just maybe, if I wished hard enough he would walk through the front door just one more time. Then the cry of our little girl waking up from her nap..."Momma!"...brought me back to reality. Just like life itself, dealing with death/grief is a little like a roller coaster. I find myself making great strides, feeling stronger, more confident, looking forward, climbing... then plummeting back into a darkness. I often stand with my face to the sun, feeling the warmth on my skin only to be knocked over by a wave of grief that takes my breath and leaves me feeling cold.
I am lonely... A loneliness that doesn't subside when friends and family hold me close, lift me up. It is a loneliness I feel deep inside. It's the part of the relationship that makes you want to send a text to tell them something funny, the part that leans in a little closer when you are watching TV at night, the part that reaches for them in bed while you're sleeping, the part that had a bad day only one of those special hugs will fix. Some days I feel a blanket of depression lying over me...other days I am curious for the future as I brace myself for what's next. I know the overall gain is positive. I must admit there are days that scares me. Sometimes it feels like I'm letting go of his hand and that trying to move on will make his memory fade. Silly, I know. I know that he will always live on in my heart, in his son, our daughter. Was it really 14 months ago? Today it feels like yesterday.
So now as I watch the clouds, I find myself noticing even more how beautiful the world around us can be. I notice the comfort of fluffy white clouds in a sunny blue sky, the power of a big thunderhead towering toward the heavens, the defiant look of the trees standing strong against a stormy sky, the way they dance on a windy day, the simple beauty of sun rays finding their way to earth.... and the colorful rainbow that emerges after the storm. While the storm is slowly fading, I am still searching for the rainbow. I miss you baby.
Goodnight all...
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Friday, July 19, 2013
The Ring
The Wedding Band...
It's different for everyone. What it stands for, what it means, how it feels. Some choose to never wear one, others to never take it off. To some its a commitment, a sacred symbol, a blessing. To others its a ball and chain, a feeling of being trapped or simply an unnecessary token. When I married J, it made me feel proud...proud to be wearing "his" and proud that he wore "mine."
Some people don't wear one. Perhaps they consider it material, and that it doesn't matter because they love their spouse more than anything. Perhaps for them, the "physical" things don't matter, a name change, a marriage license and much less a ceremonial piece of metal. I get that. Others won't take it off. Many years ago, my Grandpa, who recently passed away, went for surgery. He was an opinionated man, a grumpy and ornery man, but he loved his wife and made quite a little scene in the pre-op that day because HIS wedding ring was NOT coming off. When we visited later, I vividly remember his wedding band wrapped in surgical tape, still on his left hand. I'm not sure I thought much about it then, but I do now. Another good friend who isn't that big on the acronym we call PDA has "outgrown" his wedding band over the years of his marriage. He refuses to cut it off despite a job that technically requires its removal. That makes me smile. One friend has continued to wear hers for years and I was shocked when she told me how someone asked her why she still wore hers after her husband died. Their comment... "It's not like you're married anymore." Just like every other part of this process, its different for everyone. So its ok to ask, but don't judge.
As J and I were looking for his wedding band before we were married he commented that he had never understood the symbolism of a wedding band... until us. When I spotted one I thought looked perfect on him, he wouldn't look at another. He never took it off.
When the man or woman that put that ring on your finger passes away, so many things in your life change as you work on that "new normal" that initially, your wedding band doesn't even cross your mind. (Well, unless you go get a manicure to get out of the house and the lady asks you to remove it.... She looked at me shocked when I defiantly replied "No!") So when do you take it off? What does it mean when you do? There is no answer to either of these questions that is right or wrong. I think the answer is... you'll know.
As a surgeon, it took me weeks before that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach quit washing over me every time I removed mine for surgery. To me, it felt like that was one of my connections to him and in taking it off, I was letting go of his hand. It was like the proverbial feeling of him slipping away every time I slid the ring off my finger. Now I realize that will never really happen because every day I see him smiling back at me in Charlee's sweet face.
For myself, I chose the anniversary of his death, the one year mark. A date just shy of our 3rd wedding anniversary. I am sure some have noticed, others haven't. It felt strange at first, but I was tired. Tired of random explanations. With a 1 year old in my arms all the time, I got tired of the comments and questions about her Daddy. "She's a doll! I bet she has her Daddy wrapped around her little finger." "Her Daddy won't get much sleep when she starts dating!" "Where's your help?" "I bet her Daddy gives her anything she wants with that face." All very benign, innocent and real, but often gut wrenching at the same time. So... the week of the anniversary, I found a nice spot, a little place by my bed, took a deep breath and took it off. Of course I still wear HIS around my neck.... Baby steps.
Goodnight all.
It's different for everyone. What it stands for, what it means, how it feels. Some choose to never wear one, others to never take it off. To some its a commitment, a sacred symbol, a blessing. To others its a ball and chain, a feeling of being trapped or simply an unnecessary token. When I married J, it made me feel proud...proud to be wearing "his" and proud that he wore "mine."
Some people don't wear one. Perhaps they consider it material, and that it doesn't matter because they love their spouse more than anything. Perhaps for them, the "physical" things don't matter, a name change, a marriage license and much less a ceremonial piece of metal. I get that. Others won't take it off. Many years ago, my Grandpa, who recently passed away, went for surgery. He was an opinionated man, a grumpy and ornery man, but he loved his wife and made quite a little scene in the pre-op that day because HIS wedding ring was NOT coming off. When we visited later, I vividly remember his wedding band wrapped in surgical tape, still on his left hand. I'm not sure I thought much about it then, but I do now. Another good friend who isn't that big on the acronym we call PDA has "outgrown" his wedding band over the years of his marriage. He refuses to cut it off despite a job that technically requires its removal. That makes me smile. One friend has continued to wear hers for years and I was shocked when she told me how someone asked her why she still wore hers after her husband died. Their comment... "It's not like you're married anymore." Just like every other part of this process, its different for everyone. So its ok to ask, but don't judge.
As J and I were looking for his wedding band before we were married he commented that he had never understood the symbolism of a wedding band... until us. When I spotted one I thought looked perfect on him, he wouldn't look at another. He never took it off.
When the man or woman that put that ring on your finger passes away, so many things in your life change as you work on that "new normal" that initially, your wedding band doesn't even cross your mind. (Well, unless you go get a manicure to get out of the house and the lady asks you to remove it.... She looked at me shocked when I defiantly replied "No!") So when do you take it off? What does it mean when you do? There is no answer to either of these questions that is right or wrong. I think the answer is... you'll know.
As a surgeon, it took me weeks before that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach quit washing over me every time I removed mine for surgery. To me, it felt like that was one of my connections to him and in taking it off, I was letting go of his hand. It was like the proverbial feeling of him slipping away every time I slid the ring off my finger. Now I realize that will never really happen because every day I see him smiling back at me in Charlee's sweet face.
For myself, I chose the anniversary of his death, the one year mark. A date just shy of our 3rd wedding anniversary. I am sure some have noticed, others haven't. It felt strange at first, but I was tired. Tired of random explanations. With a 1 year old in my arms all the time, I got tired of the comments and questions about her Daddy. "She's a doll! I bet she has her Daddy wrapped around her little finger." "Her Daddy won't get much sleep when she starts dating!" "Where's your help?" "I bet her Daddy gives her anything she wants with that face." All very benign, innocent and real, but often gut wrenching at the same time. So... the week of the anniversary, I found a nice spot, a little place by my bed, took a deep breath and took it off. Of course I still wear HIS around my neck.... Baby steps.
Goodnight all.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
I Remember
I remember so often, all the parts of OUR life.
I remember so many things, I loved being your wife.
I remember our rides on the back of your bike.
I remember your hand on my knee, holding tight.
I remember sunny days with the kids by the pool.
I remember hectic mornings getting kids off to school.
I remember adventures, we'd camp, hike and swim.
I remember cooking dinner, cold beer and nights in.
I remember our fights, disagreements and amends.
I remember our first kiss, our first date, our first night.
I remember a tailgate, beer, friends and moonlight.
I remember this man who wasn't perfect, but MINE.
I remember a man who'll have a piece of my heart...
till the end of time.
I Love you, I miss you.
Your wife, SS
I remember so many things, I loved being your wife.
I remember our rides on the back of your bike.
I remember your hand on my knee, holding tight.
I remember sunny days with the kids by the pool.
I remember hectic mornings getting kids off to school.
I remember adventures, we'd camp, hike and swim.
I remember cooking dinner, cold beer and nights in.
I remember our fights, disagreements and amends.
I remember our first kiss, our first date, our first night.
I remember a tailgate, beer, friends and moonlight.
I remember this man who wasn't perfect, but MINE.
I remember a man who'll have a piece of my heart...
till the end of time.
I Love you, I miss you.
Your wife, SS
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