New Beginning...

All my life writing has been a way to think…to figure things out…to deal with my emotions in a logical way when my life had lost all logic. I have always used writing as a type of  therapy…as a tool…as something to help me when I struggle…so my writing always tends to happen in tough times…moments of sorrow…moments where I’m looking for hope.

But this blog has been left untouched for quite awhile…

In my world…this could only amount to one thing…Happiness…

In this instant…I am overjoyed…I am fulfilled…I am at peace…I am quite different than the man I was three years ago. So I haven’t been writing…I haven’t been searching…I haven’t been looking to find hope…because I’m optimistic about life. 

This blog had been an instrument to help me deal with the pain of loss…and the rebuilding of my life.  So eventually as I began to heal…I found no reason to keep writing. As I look back at the blog…it is a road map of my journey from devastation to rejuvenation…from a painful ending to a beautiful new beginning…

But I have left out the best part…the joyous part…the reason I don’t find a need to write this blog anymore…I have left out my new beginning…and the amazing women who fills my life with so much pleasure.

On June 23rd I will be getting married…married to a woman I am fortunate to call a partner, a friend and a soul mate…but maybe I should start from the beginning…perhaps I should tell Our Story…

In the summer of 2011 I  was on a road trip to Colorado with the boys. We had spent the day at Omaha Zoo, we had swam in a disgusting Hotel pool…I had put them to bed, I had sat down to write another blog entry…I was searching for some hope…and then I received a message via facebook from a widow who had been reading my blog and identified with my words. 

Her name was Kelly and we corresponded a few times that night. I could recognize her pain and wanted to help her, but I knew there was nothing I could do…except understand…which is something that few people could do. 

In September I met Kelly face to face for the first time although we had corresponded more over the summer. She became part of the Young Widow/Widowers Group that was formed by my grief counselor Kathy. It turns out that Kelly and I were seeing the same counselor which is how she had found my blog. 

I remember walking into that first meeting and feeling a kinship with everyone, but there was something about Kelly that I recognized…I could see myself when I looked at her…not just the grief, but also the desire to pull ourselves out of the grief…the yearning to live…to find joy…and to be happy.  

I remember the meeting ending…and quite obviously none of us were ready for it to be over…an hour was just not enough time to even start…so as the group exited the building…we formed small pairs or threesomes with those we felt most connected…and the grief session continued for another hour in the Hospice parking lot.

Once Kelly and I connected…we started getting together to literally help each other through. Conversations started with grief, but over time they moved to teaching and music and kids and anything that might make the other smile. I felt at ease with Kelly…I felt I could laugh and not be worried about someone judging me for stealing a moment of happiness…I felt happy for the first time in a long time.

But when I stopped…and was really honest with myself…I knew something more was happening. 

So I wasn’t surprised when my phone rang late one December evening after I was already in bed. The voice on the other end was Kelly…just wanting to know if I would like to hang out one night…maybe grab some dinner and a beer…not a “date” she said…just friends. However, I could tell by her voice…that we might just be friends…but this was certainly going to be a date.

On that date...that wasn’t a date…she told me how she felt…and I also revealed that I couldn’t stop thinking about her. But I don’t think we actually knew what to say or do next…so we just enjoyed the food, the drinks and the conversation and left it at that. We never really called it a date until a month later when it was obvious to us both...we were dating. Since that night...we had talked all the time…we met each other out…we supported each other…and we were both smiling from ear to ear.

Admittedly, I struggled with this for awhile. I felt guilty…and unsure about falling for this amazing girl. I handled the beginning of our relationship in a way that I’m not very proud of…instead of screaming out to all the world, “Look at this girl I found!”…I was worried about others and their thoughts of me. How could he do this? Isn’t this a little soon? Wow! He moved on quickly. 

But Kelly got me through that too. She was patient…and kind…and understanding…even when I hesitated about sharing our happiness with others. And for my part…I was learning for the first time in my life…to not give a shit about what anybody else thought. I’m sure there were whispers…but were these people really my friends? Obviously not…If they didn’t want me to be happy…if they didn’t want to allow me to make someone else happy…if they didn’t understand loving Kelly had nothing to do with what had happened in my past.

So I chose to move forward…and I fell more and more for this cute little blond with a big heart and a huge smile…and I let more and more people know…and pretty soon I didn’t have to scream out “Look at this girl I found!”…because it was written all over my face…I was happy…I was at ease…I wasn’t searching…I was a blessed man with a stunning, fascinating, incredible woman by my side.

So this is why my blog had become dormant…I had nothing to figure out…no soul searching to do…nothing to fix…because I’m really damn lucky to have found such an amazing partner…friend…and now wife. 

So this is me screaming it out…“I love you Kelly! You bring me happiness and joy everyday! I’m so glad we both chose life and we are going to be living that life to the fullest each day together! I’m the most fortunate man alive...to have you by my side!”

When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us. 

• Helen Keller

I Could See Myself

Two Thursdays ago I walked back into the building I regularly visited in the beginning...

I walked back into the Hospice that helped my boys and I find the strength to pull ourselves together...
I walked past the lobby I habitually sat in...where I had waited...and thought...and missed her...
I walked down the hallway that still seemed so long...and so unnerving...
I walked into the room where I had first saw others who truly understood...
Because they were living it too...

This time was different...

My counselor...had called the old group back...

Because there was a new group...

But we were all in the same group...a group no one dreams of joining...

This time I was different...
Not fixed...not healed...not the new normal...not all better...
Because that just doesn't happen...
But I was changed...and I could feel it...


Two years ago we had been sitting in those chairs...I could see it in their faces...I could feel it in my heart...

I remembered that look...those feelings...that hopelessness...
I remembered trying to make sense of why my world had been flipped...
I remembered struggling to keep my head above water...but having no idea how to swim...
I remembered feeling so lonely...
Because no one could understand or ever would...

This time was different...
I  was supposed to be the one with the answers...
Because I had been through it...and they needed me to be fine...
But it just isn't that easy...

This time I was different...
Not so alone...not so scared...not hoping I would be the same man I had been...
Because I now knew I would never be him again...
But not being able to explain this...


Two years ago I felt so completely alone...not knowing what to do...where to turn...or who could help me...

I cried each and every day...about the past that had slipped through my hands...
I cried not knowing what the future would bring...because every plan I made had died....
I cried about how my life had changed...and what it had become...
I cried until there was nothing left inside...
Because I didn't want to be like this forever....

This time was different...
My life...was changed...but mine again...
Because I had moved from surviving...to thriving...
But I'm still picking up the pieces...

This time I was different...
Not wishing...not waiting...not pleading...not trying to rewind...
Because I am moving forward...
But not leaving her behind...

Happy Birthday

Sue,


Our day to day life has changed so much since you left us.

We have changed in ways I can't even explain in words...

But some things will never change.

The day after Halloween I still begin to feel panicked...anxious...and restless.


It's that familiar "oh shit" feeling that rushes over me...

As I realize it's November and your Birthday is only days away.

I begin the scramble to find just the right gift...

And the search for just the right words to express my love.


This year was no different.

The panic set in...

The anxiousness took over...

And I restlessly scrambled...but there was no finish line.


I knew your smiling face wouldn't be across from mine today as...

I handed you that gift...

Spoke those words...

Or held you in my arms.


My life is so different now in so many ways...

But my love for you remains the same...

Strong...true...and heartfelt...

Because I love you forever and always.


I'm doing my best to make you proud...

To live the life you would want me to.

But days like today...

Make me gaze into those beautiful moments from our past.


Thank you for the joy you brought me.

Thank you for the laughs and the tears...

Thank you for being by my side as I learned to be a man.

Thank you for the moments that will never fade away.


I love you...

I miss you...

I am forever changed because of you...


Sean  

Moving Forward

I love my boys...I love them more than anything in this world.

As I wrote those words...I knew they should stand alone...because there is nothing I feel more strongly about than my love for Luke and Ben.  Over the past year and a half...they have become my life...my world...and my saving grace.

Lately I have been thinking about love in terms of the five senses.

Growing up I had always heard that if you lost one sense...others intensified to make up for that loss.  And in the past months I have wondered if my love for Luke and Ben has heightened as a result of losing the love that I shared with Susan.

I have become acutely aware that everything about being their Dad is now amplified.  The good...the bad...the scary...and the miraculous...have all upped their ante because she is no longer here to share in the burdens or the triumphs.  At times...I find myself almost caught in a trance worrying about their physical and emotional well being.

If they ride a bike...or climb a tree...or try to do a flip into the pool...I'm scared in a way I never was before.  The fear of losing them is now always present because I have seen all too clearly...that it can happen...and I have no control over it...no chance to stop it...no way to fix it.

However, my larger fear over the past eighteen months...has been losing them emotionally. I have become paralyzed by the worry that they will be forever wounded by losing Susan...or scarred to the point of no return.  And this feels like something I, as a parent, should be able to control...or stop...or at the very least fix.

So in June when we were suppose to have our last Family Therapy session...I found a hundred excuses  to extend our therapy two months beyond what our counselor thought we needed.

Of course Kathy happily continued to see us, but eventually it became evident that we were getting better...we seemed to be moving forward.  So we said our goodbyes and she hugged each of us...and told me that we were all going to be okay...because she believed we were on our way to recovery.

The problem for me was complex because my heart believed her, but my mind wondered...how do families recover from this?

I knew our journey had not come easy.  I was aware of how hard I had worked individually....and with the boys.  I knew we had all been honest in therapy...at home...and in every moment we had experienced together in the past year and a half.

Nothing had been swept under the rug...whether it be pain...joy...sorrow...or silliness. We had shared it...we had discussed it.  Nothing...no matter how ugly...was hidden...or ignored. And we had grown.  We had seen each other at at our worst and our best.  So I could rationalize what was happening...but it was still difficult to wrap my mind around it.

I was witnessing the boys changing.  They were getting older...and bigger...and smarter. They weren't the same four and six year old boys who lost their Mother that February day. I knew we were adjusting and at times even thriving in our new life...but it just didn't seem plausible that we could be healing.

How could we be recovering?  She meant too much.  She was too indispensable in our lives to just move on without her. It all seemed too implausible.

So I forced myself to analyze my family's transformation.

I thought about it...talked about it...and wrote about it.  And I always came back to the same phrase...moving forward.

Finally I realized my choice of words was significant.

We were not moving on...we were moving forward.

We weren't dismissing or forgetting...we were living.

We will never leave Susan behind...she will always move forward with us...in our hearts and our minds.

She Told Me So

She told me so...
But she never told me why...
Now I know.

It's strange what you appreciate after it's gone.

I've finally grasped things I should have known all along...things she told me everyday...things I nonchalantly dismissed.  I finally realized just how right she was...and how clueless I had been.

I have become aware that:

• Going to Target and spending less than a hundred dollars is indeed impossible...because we need a ton of shit...and we seem to need more of it everyday.

• Changing the sheets on the beds once a week is a better idea than changing them based on smell or visible stains.

• Demanding that the spoons be placed upright in the dishwasher isn't silly and dramatic...it's the only way to keep all that crud from pooling up on them and ensuring you don't have to wash them twice.

• Being organized actually is important...it turns out making lists wasn't just something she did to fill up my free time.

• Having my ears played with while watching a basketball game isn't so annoying...it's missed more than I ever could have imagined.

• Sweeping the floor everyday really shouldn't be considered anal...it's actually being clean.

• It is true that the toilets don't clean themselves.

• Telling me "If I don't do it, it won't get done" isn't a passive aggressive threat...it's the truth.

• Buying fresh flowers for the house isn't a waste of money...it's an extension of life.
• Making sure Ben stops drinking liquids after 7:30 and uses the bathroom at least twice before bed isn't extreme...it's the only way to avoid a long messy morning.
• Leaving dishes in the sink at night is harder than it sounds...now I know she wasn't exaggerating when she claimed not to be able to relax until they were done.
• Hanging the kid's artwork from every possible surface in our home doesn't make it look cluttered...it makes it full of love.
• Packing as much fun into everyday really does matter...because you never know how many you've got left.

If you knew Sue...you know she would be quick with an "I told you so" when she was proven right.  In fact...as each of these light bulb moments materialized this past year...I could appreciate her smirking smile...and her playful finger waving in my face.  Even with all the frustration I must have unknowingly caused her...she loved me.  She loved me despite my daily ignorance.

And maybe somewhere...she knows I learned a thing or two.

You were right Sue...you told me so...

Maybe Someday

Tonight was one of those nights.

Maybe they were tired...

Maybe someday I will understand what triggers their grief...

But tonight bedtime was full of tears...


Tonight I held and hugged them with all my might.

Maybe they fell asleep feeling loved...

Maybe someday my love will be enough...

But tonight bedtime was full of tears...


Tonight was one of those nights.

Maybe they just needed to let it out...

Maybe someday I won't be so angry this happened to our family...

But tonight bedtime was full of tears...

Michigan

She was everywhere today...

In my boys faces...

On the beach...

By my side...


She was missed today...

In my memories...

On the drive...

By my side...


She was here today...

In my thoughts...

On the horizon...

By my side...

Perspective, Personality & Experience

Started on April 28, 2012 ~ Finished on June 22, 2012 

Something struck me a few weeks ago...and I wasn't sure what to make of it...but suddenly I'm ready to write about it.

I sat between two friends...drinking...sharing...and talking.  And of course as time passed...the conversation hesitantly ventured toward me and this blog.

As they talked about my writing and my life...I witnessed two very different points of view...two very different sides of an argument.  It was strange how they discussed my feelings...my life...right in front of me.

These two friends have both been dear to me, but have polar personalities...and my life only emphasized their gap.

One friend said she couldn't bring herself to read my words because it was "too painful...too depressing to think about what happened."

The other quickly countered in a surprised...almost stunned tone, "Really? I think it's uplifting to read about his progress."

Two points of view...about the same set of words.

It's amazing how perspective...personality...and experience can color one's mindset.

I guess I have found this to be true in my personal grief journey as well.  As I meet and encounter others who have walked my road and felt my pain...it has become evident that perspective, personality and experience play a dynamic role in how we each travel...how we each tackle this unwanted fork in the road.

In the very beginning I clung to my pain...because it seemed right...it seemed expected.  I took solace in finding others who felt most comfortable in the gloom and doom...in the "why me" state of mind.

Please don't misinterpret...I still don't understand why...but I also know it doesn't change anything to continually ask this question again and again.  I played those cards for months on end...and constantly found myself crawling in place...going nowhere.

So when did my perspective begin to shift?

One moment that sticks with me occurred during a conversation with a widow I put on a pedestal for the longest time.  

In the beginning she was the only person I knew who had faced what I saw everyday; loneliness...heartbreak...and shock. So when she spoke...I listened...and often imitated.  I assumed that we all faced our loss in the same manner.  

I used her experiences to try and keep myself afloat during that early sorrow.  I was so lost...so rudderless...I tried to make her lessons mine...I tried to make my journey like hers...it wasn't fair to either of us...but eventually our paths diverged.  

I remember saying that I was beginning to learn something positive about life through experiencing death.  Not a lesson I wanted, but one I was none the less handed.  And I wanted to...needed to...grow from it.  I spoke of being affected by Susan's life...and Susan's death.  Of being determined to find meaning in both...lessons about living.  

My words were simple...but were eventually met with silence.  Slowly I began to realize I couldn't stop talking about my loss and she was finished talking about hers.

Perhaps that's how perspective...personality...and experience meet for widows also.  Two points of view about grief...colored by individuality.

One person finding the continual exploration of loss too depressing...too painful to share with others...wanting only to walk their path privately...on their own terms. The other constantly diving back into the loss in search of others to share with...in order to deconstruct their grief...and hoping to find an uplifting lesson about life despite the pain.

Just as no two people are alike...no two grief journeys are the same.  We all tackle the unwanted fork in the road as individuals...and that's just how it is.

Let's Be Honest

Writer's block doesn't happen when you continue to write...so I haven't been blocked. I have simply been crunched for time.

This is the lie I have convinced myself of over the last few months.

No longer can I stay up all hours of the night to refine my thinking.  I write, but without the time to craft my thoughts completely.

It's really not that simple...but that's what I have been telling others.

If I'm honest with myself...and you...I must admit that the focus of this blog is beginning to evolve...because my life is advancing.

At first it was survival...but now it's moving toward the desire to thrive again.

I can feel myself trying to do more than survive the pain of loss...by actively moving forward despite my loss.

I have countless unfinished blogs from the past two months...that will eventually show up here.

Perhaps finishing them will help me thrive again.

I Choose Life

I've always loved Spring.

The season of gentle beginnings...reawakened hope...and life.

I need this season...I need to be surrounded by life...I need to remember I'm still here to live.

So as the days become greener and brighter...I once again find myself smiling at emerging buds...absorbing the sun...and soaking in the smells.

As nature wakes and springs back to life...I feel hope...I feel alive...I feel moments of peace.

But today as I stood outside breathing it all in...I couldn't help but think about how she was missing life...how this girl with so much life in her and so much to live for...was gone.

As I stared at the greens against the blues and whites...I gazed skyward thinking...why aren't you here?

I rarely ask why anymore...because there is never an answer.

But at times...the question with no answer...asks itself.