It's the moments I don't brace for that seem to be the hardest. I am sitting here on the eve of Charlee's third birthday and my heart feels heavy. I don't have a party planned. I know what I want to get her... I just haven't had time to get it from the store. I have a plan for tomorrow... I just haven't had time to get it all together...yet. But I promise you one thing that I will always have time for...making sure she knows how much I love her. As I tucked her in tonight, we talked about who was the birthday girl tomorrow. When she looked up at me and said in her sweet little quiet voice "me mommy, me" I couldn't help but tear up. Suddenly I was overwhelmed by his absence, the fact that he isn't here to celebrate with me... us... that his sweet little daughter will be celebrating another year. I know he's with her, I know he's watching... but I want to tell him, talk to him, about all she's done and how much she's grown. It's the little things...She's potty trained, she can count to 15, we're learning our letters, her beautiful hair is down to her waist, she'll eat almost anything except tomatoes, she LOVES her some chocolate, her smile will light up a room, she loves her brothers and sister, she holds strong to her BB (aka paci), and she'll win over anyone's heart in a flash. She is my kryptonite... and she's turning 3 tomorrow. I often wonder how I am going to survive the next 15 (who am I kidding... 30) years.
I knew the time would come when she would ask and talk about her daddy. She still doesn't completely understand, but she loves his pictures. She knows he's in Heaven. She knows he's with Jesus. Oh and she'll tell anyone who'll listen when it's on her mind. It has made for an occasional uncomfortable moment. Charlee and I were waiting for take out one night. Sitting at the edge of the bar, I was enjoying a cold beer while we waited, a sprite for her. A poor unsuspecting couple sat down next to us and with her sweet charm and cute smile, the man was talking to Charlee within a few seconds. He asked her her name. "Charlee Sheets" she replied. He asked her how old she was. "Two!" she boasted. Then he asked her what she was watching on mommy's phone. She held up the phone with a picture of her and her daddy and explained... "That's me and my daddy. He's in Heaven with Jesus." I could only chuckle... poor guy....but that's what she knows. And tonight as I tucked that sweet thing in, it hurts my heart that THAT is what she knows... and tomorrow she turns 3. It's amazing how fast the time passes.
As the holidays approach, I feel that ache a little stronger in my heart. The heartache is healing, but it isn't gone. I feel guilty for dreading the holidays and as I look at my four wonderful kids, I wish I could enjoy the holidays like I used to. I know they notice, I simply pray they know how much they make it better. It is because of them and all the wonderful friends I have around me that I know it will be ok. I feel him there and I wonder sometimes if he gets as sad as I am... or on other days as angry. I do know he's proud. Proud of so many things, but mostly of his little girl. Happy Birthday Charlee. I love you to the heavens and back. I miss you my love.
Good night my friends. </3
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Bear Hugs
I miss him every day, but on bad days it seems worse. I miss the good times and the playful kisses and affectionate hugs every day... But on a bad day when things don't go well at work, or something breaks around the house, or a tire goes flat, or I can't be there for one of the kids when I want to be, or I am tired from a long night at work and life won't stop for just a moment.... I miss his big bear hug. He used to always remind me... "We've been through a lot and we'll get through this too." He never made me feel weak or small in those moments. Instead he'd say "Lean on me. That's what I'm here for." And as simple as that, I felt better. I felt like I could get through whatever kind of a day it might be and whatever "tomorrow" brought my way. It's this support and confidence in me that I have used every day since May 29th, 2012 to get up, get dressed and live the life that lies ahead. But some days... I just want that bear hug... I just want to lean. I miss you baby. 💔 goodnight my love, goodnight my friends.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
And Then You Were Gone
The Week.
So there I was the next morning...A widow. Tough word. Not only is it sad simply because of its meaning, but it sounds so final, so lonely, and forgive me... old. I wasn't sure what to do with it either. Like I said, I had no clue what to do next. My husband had been killed in a tragic accident that has since been proven was NOT his fault. (My little stab at the media world looking for a quick story to fill the 5AM news... Get your f*}€ing facts straight). Do I need to identify his body? Wait, I didn't even know where his body was...his wedding ring? The bike? His belongings? And no one seemed to be able to answer my questions. While my first responders had been by my side for hours, enter now the amazing "family" I have been blessed to become a part of in My home town. They found him, got me a few answers and a good friend got his wedding band for me... All while I wandered aimlessly. Thank you all of you!
There are plenty of support groups and books to help people out there who lose their spouses, but there are two main problems. 1. Most are aimed at those over 50, kids grown or 2. Someone is dying and there has been time to plan. There needs to be a book, or checklist that simply drops from the sky. "Your life was amazing, not perfect but pretty damn awesome and now your husband is dead... Here's what to do next." ... Sorry... A little blunt, but honest. So... I put on my armor, wiped my tears, planned a funeral with a baby on my hip and "floated" through the next few days with the help of wonderful friends and family.
The funeral. The turnaround, for lack of a better word, was quick. I had family in town that needed to get back to their lives, my oldest son had a lacrosse tournament coming up, I wanted to get this part over. So he died on a Tuesday. I celebrated our second anniversary without him on Thursday. His service was Friday. I felt numb, but strong... I could do this. There was simply one thing my armour couldn't protect me from.... The last time I saw him. Believe it or not, we had actually discussed our wishes. I knew he wanted to be creamated... "In a pine box" he would say. I knew he wanted no one to see him. But I had to say good-bye... I had to see him, just one more time. There's always a scene in the movies where the widow's knees buckle, where all the emotions come out so strong there is no way to hold it all in. This was mine. He looked so peaceful, so beautiful... But when I touched him...I wanted his warmth back. I read at his funeral. I wanted everyone to know, to remember what an amazing man he was...is. The outpouring of support was amazing. Once again, I can't thank you enough.
I am a widow. My heart is broken, and will never be the same... But I live every day with a guardian angel. Somedays I find myself angry with him and a sign will appear that makes me laugh. Someday's I find myself sad and a song will come on the radio and remind me of the wonderful times. Someday's I simply don't know how to feel and my two year old will lift his ring from around my neck and say "daddy's ring?" I reply "yes". Then she says "kiss it mommy!" She kisses it and then puts it to my lips. Our sweet girl. I miss you baby. More and more every day.
Good night my friends... For now. <\3
There are plenty of support groups and books to help people out there who lose their spouses, but there are two main problems. 1. Most are aimed at those over 50, kids grown or 2. Someone is dying and there has been time to plan. There needs to be a book, or checklist that simply drops from the sky. "Your life was amazing, not perfect but pretty damn awesome and now your husband is dead... Here's what to do next." ... Sorry... A little blunt, but honest. So... I put on my armor, wiped my tears, planned a funeral with a baby on my hip and "floated" through the next few days with the help of wonderful friends and family.
The funeral. The turnaround, for lack of a better word, was quick. I had family in town that needed to get back to their lives, my oldest son had a lacrosse tournament coming up, I wanted to get this part over. So he died on a Tuesday. I celebrated our second anniversary without him on Thursday. His service was Friday. I felt numb, but strong... I could do this. There was simply one thing my armour couldn't protect me from.... The last time I saw him. Believe it or not, we had actually discussed our wishes. I knew he wanted to be creamated... "In a pine box" he would say. I knew he wanted no one to see him. But I had to say good-bye... I had to see him, just one more time. There's always a scene in the movies where the widow's knees buckle, where all the emotions come out so strong there is no way to hold it all in. This was mine. He looked so peaceful, so beautiful... But when I touched him...I wanted his warmth back. I read at his funeral. I wanted everyone to know, to remember what an amazing man he was...is. The outpouring of support was amazing. Once again, I can't thank you enough.
I am a widow. My heart is broken, and will never be the same... But I live every day with a guardian angel. Somedays I find myself angry with him and a sign will appear that makes me laugh. Someday's I find myself sad and a song will come on the radio and remind me of the wonderful times. Someday's I simply don't know how to feel and my two year old will lift his ring from around my neck and say "daddy's ring?" I reply "yes". Then she says "kiss it mommy!" She kisses it and then puts it to my lips. Our sweet girl. I miss you baby. More and more every day.
Good night my friends... For now. <\3
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
I Miss You!
I miss you. I suppose that goes without saying. I ponder and think often. I recollect. Sometimes it's memories of you. Other times it's about that day, that night, that week... The aftermath. I know it sounds cliche, but it really does seem like yesterday. It's only when I look at how much the kids have grown, how big Charlee is that I realize how long ago you died. I wonder what that makes me, still so sad and often lost without you two years later. Then I realize I really don't care.
The day. It was the Tuesday after Memorial Day. The weekend we spent working in the yard. Mulch had been delivered and we were slowly working on distributing the gigantic pile. We'd had a wonderful visit from your Dad who had played with Charlee in the little blow up pool... But Tuesday was back to the grind. Work, daycare, school... After homework, I was loading up the kids for lacrosse and swim practice. Charlee was all buckled in her car seat and you pulled in from work. I remember so many little details, but forget others. I remember what you wore. You asked if you could help. No, you were sore from all the work that weekend... Enjoy a ride I said. You hugged and kissed me thank you in the archway of the kitchen and went our separate ways. My last kiss. My last hug.
The night. Kids in bed, Charlee fed and you text you'll be home soon. I respond be careful and as I put Charlee down I read from you "I love my life".... My last text. I will always hold on to those last words. The rest of the night was a blur. I fell asleep trying to put Charlee down. The knock on the door, the realization that you weren't home, the numbness when I heard the news all burn brightly in my memory. My friends remind me of things I did... Said... It's these things I don't remember exactly. That was the numbness.
The morning after. I remember bits and pieces. I remember thinking I can't possibly cry anymore. I need to wipe my tears, I need to make phone calls, I need to tell the kids. I remember the reaction of each... Breaking my heart even more. My oldest... "No." Silence..."you mean I'm never going to see him again?" My 8 year old simply cried.
I remember having a plan to notify people. It helped. A calling tree in a sense. It felt good to have a plan. And then I didn't know what to do next. I mean what do you do when your world comes crashing down like it never has before? At this point, a manual, a guide, a checklist would've been nice.
I remember standing still in a world rushing and spinning all around me and all I could do was sink slowly and wonder ..... What now?
Good night my friends... For now. <\3.
The day. It was the Tuesday after Memorial Day. The weekend we spent working in the yard. Mulch had been delivered and we were slowly working on distributing the gigantic pile. We'd had a wonderful visit from your Dad who had played with Charlee in the little blow up pool... But Tuesday was back to the grind. Work, daycare, school... After homework, I was loading up the kids for lacrosse and swim practice. Charlee was all buckled in her car seat and you pulled in from work. I remember so many little details, but forget others. I remember what you wore. You asked if you could help. No, you were sore from all the work that weekend... Enjoy a ride I said. You hugged and kissed me thank you in the archway of the kitchen and went our separate ways. My last kiss. My last hug.
The night. Kids in bed, Charlee fed and you text you'll be home soon. I respond be careful and as I put Charlee down I read from you "I love my life".... My last text. I will always hold on to those last words. The rest of the night was a blur. I fell asleep trying to put Charlee down. The knock on the door, the realization that you weren't home, the numbness when I heard the news all burn brightly in my memory. My friends remind me of things I did... Said... It's these things I don't remember exactly. That was the numbness.
The morning after. I remember bits and pieces. I remember thinking I can't possibly cry anymore. I need to wipe my tears, I need to make phone calls, I need to tell the kids. I remember the reaction of each... Breaking my heart even more. My oldest... "No." Silence..."you mean I'm never going to see him again?" My 8 year old simply cried.
I remember having a plan to notify people. It helped. A calling tree in a sense. It felt good to have a plan. And then I didn't know what to do next. I mean what do you do when your world comes crashing down like it never has before? At this point, a manual, a guide, a checklist would've been nice.
I remember standing still in a world rushing and spinning all around me and all I could do was sink slowly and wonder ..... What now?
Good night my friends... For now. <\3.
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Widow to Widow
In the last year and a half, I have had some wonderful support, but there has been one close and dear to my heart who has no idea how much she has helped keep the days brighter and my heart lighter. She was unable to visit when J was killed. Life doesn't always make it easy to travel across the miles despite our longing to hold those we care for so deeply. It bothered her I could tell, despite my reassurance that I, of all people, get it... I understand. You don't always have to be face to face to know how much someone cares or feel their hug, their love. Since J died she has texted me so many times and with an uncanny sense of when I needed her. One time a typo lead to "Jigs" instead of "Hugs"... and it stuck. On a tough day my phone would vibrate... "love you! Jigs!!" I'd let out a chuckle, a smile and feel a little more warmth in my heart. She just wanted to help. She didn't know then what I was feeling...the loneliness, the ache, the stress, the anxiety, the loss, the unknown...now she does.
I am a widow and now... so is she. Her text this morning... "It is real." I felt the wave of heartache come over me that I have grown to know so well. I remember the day that same realization came over me. I often wonder still if he will walk through the front door, if he will be holding me when I wake up. I'll do a double take as a man steps out of his truck. As the dust settles and we deal with the acuity of the event, we slowly look around and realize "Damn... this isn't just a bad dream." I so badly wanted to grab her around the neck, cry with her and simply say... "I know... I'm sorry." I wanted to jump through my phone and walk beside her... to encourage her when she needs it, to carry her when she just doesn't want to do it, to applaud her when she realizes she can and will.... Widow to Widow... Family to Family.
I want her to know that the silly things people say are because they want to reach out, they want to help. I want her to know that it is ok to say "Yes, Please" when someone offers to help and that it is NOT a sign of weakness. I want her to know that it is wonderful to stand strong and move forward, but ok to simply want to hold your head in your hands and cry. I want her to know that it isn't always true... "that time will heal"...but that time WILL make it easier. I want her to know that with time a "new normal" will find its way into her life. I want her to know how much she is loved. I want her to know that while he is gone, he will always live in her heart. I want her to know that a broken heart is not just a figure of speech...it HURTS. I want her to know that I am here for her...across the miles, yet close to the heart.
I love you... and I wish I could take your pain away because I know how bad it feels.
I love you to the moon and back... goodnight my friend, goodnight my love... </3
I am a widow and now... so is she. Her text this morning... "It is real." I felt the wave of heartache come over me that I have grown to know so well. I remember the day that same realization came over me. I often wonder still if he will walk through the front door, if he will be holding me when I wake up. I'll do a double take as a man steps out of his truck. As the dust settles and we deal with the acuity of the event, we slowly look around and realize "Damn... this isn't just a bad dream." I so badly wanted to grab her around the neck, cry with her and simply say... "I know... I'm sorry." I wanted to jump through my phone and walk beside her... to encourage her when she needs it, to carry her when she just doesn't want to do it, to applaud her when she realizes she can and will.... Widow to Widow... Family to Family.
I want her to know that the silly things people say are because they want to reach out, they want to help. I want her to know that it is ok to say "Yes, Please" when someone offers to help and that it is NOT a sign of weakness. I want her to know that it is wonderful to stand strong and move forward, but ok to simply want to hold your head in your hands and cry. I want her to know that it isn't always true... "that time will heal"...but that time WILL make it easier. I want her to know that with time a "new normal" will find its way into her life. I want her to know how much she is loved. I want her to know that while he is gone, he will always live in her heart. I want her to know that a broken heart is not just a figure of speech...it HURTS. I want her to know that I am here for her...across the miles, yet close to the heart.
I love you... and I wish I could take your pain away because I know how bad it feels.
I love you to the moon and back... goodnight my friend, goodnight my love... </3
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