Caught

Tonight I was caught in my sorrow...Ben opened the door to the bedroom...and he caught me looking at a picture of Susan...sobbing.

He came to me...rubbed up next to me to show he cared...then scurried off to show he was scared.

You see...he wants me to get better...he wants me not to cry...he wants me to be okay.

To him my tears suggest that I'm not alright.  To me...they say I miss her...I love her.

How can I explain to a four year old that I am okay...just broken...and trying to heal.  He is better most of the time...and right now...I can only feel better some of the time.

So lately...against my better judgement...I have taken to hiding my sorrow...from my boys...from my family...from my friends...because they want me to be okay...to be better.  I feel like I'm playing this con game...where I hide my emotions...for the benefit of others.  If I can just fake my way through one more day...they can sleep better tonight.

I felt this way posting pictures of the boys on facebook today.  I was attempting to say, "see...we're okay...don't worry."  In the pictures the boys are laughing, playing, joking...and occasionally I make a cameo in these photos.  I didn't stage this happiness...it's there...it's real...I feel it...I'm a part of it.  But I also still feel my grief...and I'm starting to be scared to show it...so I hide it...and fake my way through it.

Don't get me wrong...I'm working my ass off at being their Dad...at trying to make things better for them...at helping them grieve...at making sure their only living parent has some life left in him.  In fact, even though I have come to loathe the word better...I am getting better...slowly...having more fun...finding some happiness.

In my mind though...it's okay for me to still be sad...to still be heartbroken...to still be hurting...to still be crying while I'm trying to work my way through this.  Those emotions should not cloud the fact that I am gradually recovering.

My wife died...my life has forever changed...my boys lost their mother.  This is what I think about everyday...all day.  So my sorrow isn't just going to go away...it won't just disappear...it doesn't suddenly vanish one day.  It will fade...burn out...wash away...but a part of it will always stay.

I'm starting to believe sorrow leaves gradually like the seasons...we never jump from January to June.  We gradually fade from Winter...into Spring...into Summer.  My sorrow is still fading in this way.  I am approaching okay...better...and maybe one day...even good. But I can't make snow melt any faster...or my recovery any quicker.

Eventually I will be better...but until then I will still cry...and that's okay.

Her Lovelys

She called them "My Lovelys" and they adored her. They made her laugh in a way that I wished I could. She hugged them until their eyes popped out...and they always embraced it. So many special moments they shared. Some that I am only recently discovering...little rituals the three of them had...when I wasn't around...when she had to get through the day until I arrived home.  The boys have been telling me their secrets...all the little things that happened...the things I knew nothing of...

My boys love their Momma...but now they can only talk about her in the past tense.

     Was Mom here for that?  
     Will we still go sledding on the big hill Mom took us to?
     Remember when Mom would hide and scare us...  
     Can you play Tickle Monster with us the way Mom did?  
     Do you know how to make Mom's Corned Beef?  
     Mom would have liked this...I wish she was here...

You see...I'm afraid they are loving her in the past tense also...and I'm worried that love isn't as strong as those secret moments only they shared...when she loved them...as only a mother could.

In the beginning they slipped quite often and called me Mom instead of Dad.  It hurt when they said it...it was a reminder of how much they still needed her.  It's more painful now...because they don't slip...they see us as a family of three...but that's not my view.

I pray my boys don't lose sight of what their mother was and still is...the heart of our family...the thread that tied us together...the flame that made our house explode with joy...the woman who shaped us...

My Kind of Love

My kind of love...

Lasts a long time...


I can't understand...

Why she's gone...


But I feel her...

Inside...

The First Time

The first time I really saw her...

We were alone...

Talking...

And all I saw were her eyes...


Deep...

Beautiful...

Soft...

Caring...


She stopped speaking...

But I wasn't aware...


She laughed...

I blushed...


She knew...

And I did too...

Dad

All I have left is to be a Dad...

Right now I'm not the Dad I used to be...

But I can see the Dad I want to be...


All I hope is that one day...

They will be sitting across from me...

Saying I was the Dad they needed me to be...

Hard to Admit

I have to make further comment on Moments of Peace...

Please understand...it's hard for me to admit that...

There are moments I feel alive...

Times I smile...

Occasions I laugh...

Flashes when I don't feel the pain...

For me...a man who so loves his wife...

Those split seconds of peace...

Fill me with hours of shame...

How dare I move on without her...

But I also can't move on with her...

She's gone...

This is where the problem lies for me...

Which may be difficult for others to see...

Moments of Peace

Although my blog may not show it...I do have small moments of peace...little happy reminders of Susan...that I see in the boys...and even in myself at times.

Today...I heard her and saw her in my little Benny Boy.  We were in the Kingdom of Darkness at the Omaha Zoo.  I know...ironic...and dramatic...but true.

Of course...Ben saw something that Luke and I had missed.  You see...Sue called Ben The Finder...because he has a way off seeing what others overlook.

What he saw in the pitch black...was a frog sitting on a snake's back.  He turned and pointed and said, "How awesome is that?"  These were words right out of Susan's mouth...a phrase she spoke at least once a day...but I hadn't heard in months.

His face...his body language...the way he held his hand on his hip...all Sue.  I smiled to myself because only I knew what had happened.  They ran off to the next exhibit...I followed behind...a flurry of confused emotions.  Part delighted...part discouraged...but all the time knowing...I had to follow them...and try to move ahead.

This is all so fresh...my reality still cuts deep.  I know in time the pain will diminish...my wounds will begin to heal slowly...but I also know...never completely.  I will always hold a scar...in my heart...in my psyche...a reminder of what could have...and what should have been.

This blog helps me...and to my amazement...it seems to be helping others too.  But I fear that those who have not been thrown into these waters...believe I'm drowning.  In reality...I'm learning to swim again...and this requires some sinking.  I have found that at this point in my grief...my thoughts are not all that different from others who have been pushed into the undercurrent...who have had to face the death of a spouse...the changing of their life...the loss of what made them feel blessed.

I think it's hard for others to understand how long this will take.  I never could have comprehended this sorrow five months ago.

As the shock and denial have worn off...my reality has set in...I have been taken to an extremely dark place in my life.  My mind and body shielded me the first few months, but that armor is gone.

I understand where I'm going... and I may still have to sink before I begin to climb.  But I will...for my boys...for Susan...and for me.

The Pool

Who would have thought a pool in Iowa...could flood me with memories...and sadness.

We stopped halfway to Colorado...a random Iowa town...just this side of Nebraska.  I picked a place with a pool...because the boys love the water...we had been in a car all day...and a pool sounded good.

It wasn't actually good...both literally and figuratively.

The water smelled  a little like a sponge...after it's been around too long...and the water was a little too murky for my liking.

But as always my boys dove in...head first.  I instead chose to sit back and play lifeguard...to watch them...to observe them.  I do this quite often at our neighborhood pool.  I watch them smile and splash...their faces filled with joy.  It never ceases to amaze me how they can live...despite Susan's death...especially since I still can't do it myself.

Today was different...my eyes wandered further...past my children.  Looking toward others...couples...families...so many satisfied lives.

It started off okay...just another Dad and me.  He was pissed at his daughters...because they wouldn't get out of the pool.  Secretly I thought..."Poor bastard...he's miserable."  Then she walked in...his wife...and like a tag team...they switched roles.  I knew instantly what was happening...they were sharing the load...sharing the joy...sharing the parenting.  He kissed her and walked off...because it was his turn to unwind.  She was refreshed...and laughed off all that had made him scowl.

I remember that...I loved that.  Parenting as a team...living as a couple...knowing when the other needed a moment.  Sadness hit...because it was gone.

All day today it was gone.  Seven hours we drove...with me constantly having to pee.  There was no partner to sit in the car with the sleeping boys...as my coffee kicked in.  Even the simple act of a bathroom break has been stolen from me.  So from Iowa City to Des Moines...I drove crossed legged and biting the insides of my cheeks...until Benny finally rose from sleep.

As I contemplated this thought...I watched two parents walk in with two tiny boys.  The oldest maybe two years old and the other nine months at the most.  I instantly flashed back to water park trips with Sue and the boys.  I saw the happiness in their eyes...as they each swam...with their own boy. Each playing...engaging...loving a boy.  But they kept glancing at one another...as if to say, "Watch him do this" or "Did you see that?"

I remember that...I loved that.  Sharing in each new adventure...every new first our boys took.  Then sadness hit...because it's gone.

All day it was gone.  We finally stopped in Des Moines...and what did Benny do?  He belted himself into his car seat.  So silly I know...but...oh how long we had waited.  She missed it...never able to see it...to applaud it...to revel in the fact that she would never have to do it again.  So I praised him...Luke high fived him...but as I drove...I knew she would have celebrated him...as only Susan could do.

As my eyes started to mist...I saw an older couple walk in.  They drifted past me...hand in hand...smile in smile...heart in heart.  Obviously here just for them...enjoying their love...their partner.  They sat not twenty feet away from me...without talking...not in silence...but in company.  You could sense a feeling of been there...done that.  But you could also see the love of two people...who had shared a life...who knew each other...inside and out.

I remember hoping for that...I was going to love that.  Sharing our stories...every turn our lives had taken...each sorrow and every celebration.  Then sadness hit...because it's gone.

The Beatles - In My Life Lyrics

But of all these friends and lovers...There is no one who compares with you...In my life I love you more...

This Morning

I couldn't get out of bed this morning...

Because last night I dreamed it never happened...

Lives Forever Changed

All my life I have been a thinker...a wonderer...

So whenever ambulances flew past...I always thought...I always wondered...about those inside...those along for the ride.

A pang of saddness would strike as their lights flashed by...as their sirens roared.  The first thought that would take over my mind was that lives had changed...it mattered not if the ride ended with life or death...lives in some way would be forever changed.

Now as ambulances go by...I think of Susan's ride.  She was already gone as the sirens roared...how quiet and difficult that must have been for those inside.  Knowing there was nothing left they could do.  Knowing that lives were forever changed.

Over the last few months...information about that Friday night has slowly leaked in to me. Through a friend's mother...who goes to a dentist...who's hygienist has a brother...who was the paramedic.  I learned he was with Susan on that ride.  I learned that after he saw my two boys in the store...and couldn't save their mother...he had to take a leave of absence.

Lives are surely altered...forever changed...when an ambulance goes roaring by.

God's Plan

I have moved from thinking she's coming back...to wondering where she is.

Before Susan's death...I had an acceptable notion of Heaven and the afterlife...one that met my needs at the time.  It seemed rational for grandparents, uncles and even some friends to have gone to "a better place."  My mind never questioned the existence of someone after death...as a spirit...a ghost...I didn't know.  I just accepted that they were somewhere...better...and happy.  Maybe even looking down on me...guiding...smiling...enjoying my life.

Where did this notion come from?  Was I spoon fed it as a child?  Was it an easy answer...less messy than thinking?

My mind no longer runs that same course...it seems impossible to believe that any longer. Susan's death should not be explained away with platitudes and antidotes...it can't be that easy...that simple.  I question those who think as I used to...and those who constantly refer to God's plan.  Have they lost someone...so close...so early...so unfairly...and without warning?

As we age and go through the cycle of our lives...we know that death is ahead.  When people are old or sick or suffering, perhaps these revelations make sense.  But for a young family to be struck...for a mother to be ripped from her boys...for a woman to be stripped of her dreams?  How could she be happy...or in a better place now?  Her place was with us...she was happy with her boys...with me.

Susan was the heart of our family...the love of my life...I just can't take that leap of faith anymore.  I see the pain in my boys and I can feel it rush through my veins.  If there is someplace else...I know she is feeling much the same.  How is that better...how is that happy?

Many think I have never believed in God, but that is not true.  I believe in a higher being, but not a organized religion that glosses over my questions...with rote answers...meant to pacify...meant to explain her death away.  The problem for me is not accepting that there is a God, but believing a God could be so cruel...so randomly or purposefully cruel as to destroy those that are so innocent and true.

I've seen it happen to others, but because of distance...I could sweep it aside...brush it from my mind and accept it without thought...and just go on faith.  Now death is different.  It is real...it is harsh.  It stole my love, my partner, the mother of my children.

In my mind many questions arise...contentions I should have had long ago...when friends suffered as I do now.  But it was simpler...easier...to let my faith cast them aside and accept that not everything is meant to be explained.

Surely I will be judged for these thoughts I have written tonight...but only by those who have not been forced to comprehend them...to endure them...to answer them.

"I Like The Way This Is Going" by Eels

This song makes me cry.  It so reminds me of my feelings as Susan and we started our relationship twelve years ago.

I like your toothy smile...it never fails to beguile...I like the color of your hair...I think we make a handsome pair...I can only see my love growing...I like the way this is going...I like the way your pants fit...how you stand and how you sit...I don't care about the past...none of it was made to last...it's not who you known, but who you're knowing...I like the way this is going....

I miss you...

Wonder

I wonder why it ends...

How it’s decided...

Who works it out?

Is it just random?

Or does fate play in?

I question this world...

This God...

The faith I had...

The innocence I lost...

Everything is changed...

Perspective...

Acceptance...

Understanding...

Me...

My boys...

Our lives....

Honesty

I have been feeling extremely ashamed of a recent post I wrote.  As I read it over...again and again...it seems so very desperate...so needy.  It makes me feel weak and uncertain.

But I promised myself when I started this...that if I posted it...it would stay.  No erasing...no deleting.  No pretending it wasn't felt.  This is most likely why I have posted just over 50 pieces, but have just as many saved as drafts on my computer.

Some are too raw, some are too harsh, some are too angry and some are just for me.  Still others remain incomplete because I am not ready yet to face all the emotions they create.  I know this...so they sit...so they wait...until I'm ready to try again.

When I posted Emotionally Naked it was exactly how I felt...but perhaps another night it would have remained unshared.  However, that was where I was...when I pressed post...and perhaps that may have been the point.

Maybe I haven't been as honest as I think.  Hiding some feelings that I'm too scared to speak.

I only know a few who have walked this path I pace.  So at that moment...in that space...I tried to reach out for what I felt could be replaced.

I meant no harm...to those that read my ramblings.  I just felt so empty and needed some sharing.

Thank you to those who never judge...thank you to those who reach out and don't hold a grudge.  Your words and journey help me at night...to make it through...to a place where I will eventually see some light.

Slipping

God, that smile...

Her laugh...

That giggle...


I miss it all...


Where did it go?

Pictures and videos show it...

But they don't capture it...


Her essence...her spirit...her energy...


Memories struggle to hold it...

But it slips through...

Not forgotten...but less real...


Far away she seems to move...


God, I want to catch it...

Her being...

That beauty...


And forever hold it...

Emotionally Naked

I'm feeling so exposed...open for everyone to see...for everyone to read.  


My blog started as a place for me. 


Then a place for my friends to peek in and see.  


Suddenly it has become where others go...to feel less alone as they connect with my words.


But who is helping me?  Where are the words I so desperately crave.


I need stories from others who have walked my path alone.


For me...I'm longing to connect with widows and widowers who have felt this pain.


To hear their stories...their struggles...to know that I'm not peerless.


And not the only one who cries...or who questions how...and why.


I'm not talking about messages of support.


I need stories of loss...and journeys through grief.


Truthful emotions from young widows and widowers who have lost.


So I can hear that others feel as I do...in my heart.

Inches

Measure me Dad...mark it on the wall!

Luke has grown an inch and a half...Ben has shot up two...all in four months.  I hardly thought this possible, but there it is on our wall.  I actually ache thinking of all the inches she has missed...all the inches yet to come.

They've changed these past months...moved farther from who they were when she was here.  I can't stop time, but I'm so scared to watch them grow...to witness us slowly distance ourselves from the life we shared with Susan.

Someday I'll look at a picture and think, "That's how she knew them" and it will be the past...my past...their past...but her present.

They will become teenagers...adults...maybe start families.  She won't experience a drop of that happiness.  For me it will always be bittersweet...and totally incomplete.

So many have suggested the boys will bring me joy over the years to come.  They surely will, but it will be a damaged pleasure...not the bliss it should have been.

The fruition of having children is sharing who they become...seeing together how they grow. Alone...I will be full of pride...and alone I will face all their struggles.  There is no one to take part in the enjoyment...there is no one with whom to divide the load... at least not in the way parents do...in the way parents care...in the way two parents  are meant to share.

Lately I think of myself as a child of seven or four.  What if this had happened to me?  All those memories I'd lose of times with my mother...of hugs and kisses...of looks and words that only a mother could share. Where would I be without those moments?  Where will they be without theirs?

Inches seem so small, but happen far too quick.  My boys are growing right before me, but away from what we were...a family...of four.

I can see their Mom slipping through their minds like sand in an hourglass.  Slowly she is fading...then suddenly a memory springs and their hourglass is flipped.  But just as quickly she begins to slide away again.  Never truly gone, but surely less real.

Even I struggle with remembering she was real.  The love of my life has become a memory...an image...a voice.  Without her touch and caress...she has become a picture...a video...an answering machine message.  How can this be the result of twelve years of true love?

We struggle in this house to hold her near.  But how...with what?  With photos and words...memories and traditions?  That just isn't enough to fill the absence of her love.

I pray that as my boys grow inches...they don't grow away...from their mother...and what she gave.

Today

Today was one of those days…

I woke up sad…

Can’t explain it…

Couldn’t shake it…

Some days I miss her from the start…

Some days she wanders across my mind…

Some days it lasts until I sleep…

Some days it disappears after I weep…

Today was one of those days…

I woke up crippled…

Can’t explain it…

Couldn’t shake it…

Worlds Apart

Worlds Apart

In our lives

And our suffering

Incongruent Parts

In our beliefs

And our thinking

Colliding Hearts

In our loss

And our healing

Disparate Starts

In our memories

And our remembering

Worlds Apart

In our fates

And our remaining

Rhythm

I miss the rhythm of my life...

Nine Days

Valentine’s Day…we were warming up for an easy game…everyone was loose…including me.  Then I heard someone calling me…Sean...your wife...she doesn't sound good. 

She was on the phone…startled, but calm all at once.  She said it would be okay…stay for the game.  I refused…she insisted…I jumped in my car.  Halfway home...I got the call…they are taking me in an ambulance, but I’m okay…I’m on my way.

Waiting in the ER for her…not knowing anything.  Brought into the hallway...she was smiling…in a wheelchair with an IV…this is just so silly…so sorry…it’s nothing.

In the ER all night…everything ruled out…one diagnosis after another…can we just go home…I'm fine...I miss the guys.  We’re staying…we need to find out.

Four in the morning…still not in a room...she says...we’re leaving.  I talk to the nurses…magically we are admitted.  But no one is concerned…no heart monitor…no machines...nothing.  Just the two of us in a room...sleeping.  She woke me at six…go get the boys…take Luke to school….see you soon.

Ben and I are back by nine…stress tests are done…nurses and doctors are laughing about how hard she had to run...just to get her heart rate up.  There’s nothing wrong they say.  She’s fine…she's so healthy.  We just have to wait…wait to be released. 

The wait lasts all day…finally released at five…thirteen hours after entering that room….twenty-five hours after arriving at that hospital.  The doctor assures us she is fine…nothing to lose sleep over.  We jump at the chance to believe it…we want to think the best.  She has to be okay…she’s mine…and she’s so healthy.  Just a minor scare…the doctor says…see me for a follow up...when you can...and she walks out the door.

We return home…she smothers the boys with love…apologizes over and over about all the fuss.  I keep saying it was right to go…now we know...better to know it’s nothing.  What if you didn’t go and it was something?

She laughs it off…we both do.  We hug and kiss…and joke that I made her heart race on Valentine’s Day.  She calls some friends and talks of how embarrassed she is…all this over nothing.

I stay home the next day…still worried...just enough...that it could have been something.  Finally she urges me back to work…and everything seems to fall back into place.  I work and coach…she takes care of the boys and our home.  The worries fade from our heads...as our life starts again.

Over the next week…we all have a special moment with her…first me…then Luke…then Ben.  On Thursday night she rocks Luke to sleep…she hadn’t in years.  She holds him and won’t let go.  He lays asleep in her lap as I finish Ben’s costume for a preschool show.  The following day she catches a late morning nap with Benny…they snuggle…and hug…and Eskimo kiss...their special thing.

That Friday…I finish off my day…feeling good…thinking of spending the night with her and the boys…but first I stop off at the mall.  She had been pushing me all year to treat myself…because she thought I worked so hard.  On this day…I feel just good enough to do what she said…treat yourself.

In the end…I don’t…I decide to leave the store.  Walking through the mall…I get the call.  The woman on the other end is startled, but calm all at once…but this time it’s not her.  I make the same terrifying drive down the highway…live through the same anxious wait outside the ER…but this time she isn’t waiting…she isn't smiling…she isn't blushing in a wheelchair.

She’s laying down…she's cold…she's gone.  This night there’s no diagnosing…just apologizing…we did all we could.  Perhaps that night they did…but what about nine days before?

My Love

My Love was always...

Just as she seemed...

Overflowing with life...

And fulfilling our dreams...