You miss your old life...
How could you not?
But here you are...
Faced with starting anew.
Where do you go from perfection?
How do you move ahead...
When you've been left behind?
So what happens next?
Your life was blessed...
And then cursed.
How do you live again...
Without the girl who gave you life?
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Dragging Up Boxes
In November when people first started yammering about the local radio station finally flipping over to Christmas music...I wasn't anxious to seek it out. I thought the first note would open the flood gates and bring back memories of Christmas with Sue.
I knew those boxes contained our life...our Christmases...our memories of the boys enjoying the wonder of the season. And I was scared to look at our life...scared to stand there and stare at it all alone.
So I put it off.
I put it off longer than I probably should have...longer than I wanted to.
But there's something comforting about Christmas music to me. I'm talking about the old stuff...the stuff I grew up with...the stuff that filled my house as a kid...the stuff I continued to play alone in my apartment during my twenties before I was lucky enough to have someone to listen with by the fire.
When I played Johnny Mathis, Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, or Nat King Cole...I wasn't shot back to Christmas with Susan...because the music represented a lifetime to me...my life.
So I played my favorites...edging myself closer to making the leap of bringing up the boxes. I was hoping that opening the Christmas boxes was going to be as simple as turning the radio dial and finding those comforting songs...but I knew better.
So I played my favorites...edging myself closer to making the leap of bringing up the boxes. I was hoping that opening the Christmas boxes was going to be as simple as turning the radio dial and finding those comforting songs...but I knew better.
I knew those boxes contained our life...our Christmases...our memories of the boys enjoying the wonder of the season. And I was scared to look at our life...scared to stand there and stare at it all alone.
So I put it off.
I put it off longer than I probably should have...longer than I wanted to.
I wanted to have myself a Merry Little Christmas...I wanted one for my boys.
They will only have so many Christmas Seasons in their lives where they are enveloped in the wonder and magic of believing. And I wanted them to have as much of that as possible...they had already been robbed of enough childhood.
They will only have so many Christmas Seasons in their lives where they are enveloped in the wonder and magic of believing. And I wanted them to have as much of that as possible...they had already been robbed of enough childhood.
But each day...something stopped me from dragging up those boxes.
I've learned that every first is painful...but it's also a nail in the coffin...so to speak.
As we have tackled each first as a family...we have moved further from when we were a family of four...instead of just three. We have moved further from her being alive...and in our lives. Opening those boxes without her was going to be...in essence...closing the chapter on sharing Christmas with her.
As we have tackled each first as a family...we have moved further from when we were a family of four...instead of just three. We have moved further from her being alive...and in our lives. Opening those boxes without her was going to be...in essence...closing the chapter on sharing Christmas with her.
Not something I wanted to do...because I couldn't imagine Christmas without her.
But here it was...approaching more quickly each day.
What could I do?
So I dug down deep...got my game face on for the boys...and dragged up some boxes.
But here it was...approaching more quickly each day.
What could I do?
So I dug down deep...got my game face on for the boys...and dragged up some boxes.
Monday, November 28, 2011
'Tis the Season?
I thought it would start on Halloween. I had anticipated the worst. But as the days went by...it really didn't seem so awful. There was just enough down time between the 31st and Thanksgiving Day to fool me into believing I was going to be fine...I was going to be able to handle the season.
But this past week crashed down on me.
I'm never surprised...just never quite prepared.
Earlier in the month the boys and I celebrated Susan's Birthday as a way of remembering how much she had brought to our lives. But trying to celebrate my Birthday yesterday was a reminder of how much I will be missing her in my life as each year passes...a reminder of what the boys will miss...a reminder of what she will never experience.
Last week brought a slew of memories...
Not just Holidays and celebrations...but reminders of how we tackled everything...together.
My School Conferences came and went...But the ease in which we got through those two days was gone. The days and nights were hectic...difficult...and dreadful. The boys didn't see me at all on Monday...they rose from bed to others and were put to bed by someone else. Not what we planned...not what we struggled the last 12 years for...
Ben agonized through the week with strep throat...a cold...an allergic reaction to medicine...and pink eye. With every minute I stayed up caring for him...through coughing, crying and fever...I was reminded of how Sue and I worked through the hard times together...with a touch of a smile and a wink of our eyes.
Even when life was hard...we had each other to lean on...to hold...to love.
As the air gets colder...and the nights get longer...I find myself struggling. I want to live...live for her...live for the boys. I want to do this with every ounce of my body. But all I can do is think of what lies ahead in the next few months...Christmas...New Year's Eve...Our Anniversary...Valentine's Day...and the day that will mark a year since she last held me.
But this past week crashed down on me.
I'm never surprised...just never quite prepared.
Earlier in the month the boys and I celebrated Susan's Birthday as a way of remembering how much she had brought to our lives. But trying to celebrate my Birthday yesterday was a reminder of how much I will be missing her in my life as each year passes...a reminder of what the boys will miss...a reminder of what she will never experience.
Last week brought a slew of memories...
Not just Holidays and celebrations...but reminders of how we tackled everything...together.
My School Conferences came and went...But the ease in which we got through those two days was gone. The days and nights were hectic...difficult...and dreadful. The boys didn't see me at all on Monday...they rose from bed to others and were put to bed by someone else. Not what we planned...not what we struggled the last 12 years for...
Ben agonized through the week with strep throat...a cold...an allergic reaction to medicine...and pink eye. With every minute I stayed up caring for him...through coughing, crying and fever...I was reminded of how Sue and I worked through the hard times together...with a touch of a smile and a wink of our eyes.
Even when life was hard...we had each other to lean on...to hold...to love.
As the air gets colder...and the nights get longer...I find myself struggling. I want to live...live for her...live for the boys. I want to do this with every ounce of my body. But all I can do is think of what lies ahead in the next few months...Christmas...New Year's Eve...Our Anniversary...Valentine's Day...and the day that will mark a year since she last held me.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Be Thankful
What do you give thanks for when your world has come tumbling down around you?
Thanksgiving Dinner was so strange tonight. The food was delicious...I enjoyed every bit of it. The company was wonderful...I love my family so much. But the whole celebration seemed empty...not just in me, but in the room.
It would have been one thing if Susan had been just visibly absent tonight...but it was so much more.
She had always brought the moment with her when she entered a room...and that was absent tonight. Gone was the laughter...the fun...the love of a girl who simply relished these moments...these times where we shared our thanks for being so lucky.
That luck seemed to have run thin.
The drive home was quiet and reflective. The boys' heads fell in opposite directions as they nodded off to sleep. And I drove...staring at the empty passenger seat...the whole way thinking about how she should have been curling up and closing her eyes next to me as I drove.
The word three pounded through my head...as I tried to make sense of how we had become a family of just three.
One at a time, I carried my sleeping boys from the car...to the stairs...and to their beds. Thinking about how we would have been so thankful for this early night. How we would have spent the next few hours alone...just us two. Free to be thankful for how lucky we were in each others arms.
Instead...I rambled aimlessly around our house...like a lost old man.
Finally I sat...and forced myself to examine what I have to be thankful for as my world comes tumbling down around me. I have two boys...full of their mother's love...full of their mother's laughter...full of their mother's compassion...full of their mother's talents.
I'm lucky to have this...but I still wish I had that same luck I was so thankful for nine months ago.
Thanksgiving Dinner was so strange tonight. The food was delicious...I enjoyed every bit of it. The company was wonderful...I love my family so much. But the whole celebration seemed empty...not just in me, but in the room.
It would have been one thing if Susan had been just visibly absent tonight...but it was so much more.
She had always brought the moment with her when she entered a room...and that was absent tonight. Gone was the laughter...the fun...the love of a girl who simply relished these moments...these times where we shared our thanks for being so lucky.
That luck seemed to have run thin.
The drive home was quiet and reflective. The boys' heads fell in opposite directions as they nodded off to sleep. And I drove...staring at the empty passenger seat...the whole way thinking about how she should have been curling up and closing her eyes next to me as I drove.
The word three pounded through my head...as I tried to make sense of how we had become a family of just three.
One at a time, I carried my sleeping boys from the car...to the stairs...and to their beds. Thinking about how we would have been so thankful for this early night. How we would have spent the next few hours alone...just us two. Free to be thankful for how lucky we were in each others arms.
Instead...I rambled aimlessly around our house...like a lost old man.
Finally I sat...and forced myself to examine what I have to be thankful for as my world comes tumbling down around me. I have two boys...full of their mother's love...full of their mother's laughter...full of their mother's compassion...full of their mother's talents.
I'm lucky to have this...but I still wish I had that same luck I was so thankful for nine months ago.
A Plain Page
I start this off without any words...
A plain page...
And the weight of my thoughts.
As I write...
I reveal myself...
and my misery.
These words are the battle I fight to exist...
To live...
And to grow.
As they reach your eyes...
The luxury of ignoring, hiding or running...
Disappears.
I am exposed...
They are out...
It is real.
Words of truth from moments of agony...
And there is no going back...
Only moving forward.
These words roll around in my head...
And I must meet them...
If I choose to tackle my grief.
Obsessively I look back...
Scrutinizing what I have written...
Almost attempting to discriminate between fact and fiction.
Pulling back layers...
In an attempt to peer into my emotions...
From a rational place outside of myself.
They begin to separate from my psyche...
As I attempt to judge them as authentic...
Or as simply an invented paranoia.
These are hours spent analyzing...
What I have said, thought and felt...
And they read like a map.
They acknowledge where I have been...
But more importantly...
Where I intend to go.
A plain page...
And the weight of my thoughts.
As I write...
I reveal myself...
and my misery.
These words are the battle I fight to exist...
To live...
And to grow.
As they reach your eyes...
The luxury of ignoring, hiding or running...
Disappears.
Once I have spilled myself onto the page...
It's no longer plain...
It's full of my pain.
It's full of my pain.
I am exposed...
It is real.
Words of truth from moments of agony...
And there is no going back...
Only moving forward.
These words roll around in my head...
And I must meet them...
If I choose to tackle my grief.
Obsessively I look back...
Scrutinizing what I have written...
Almost attempting to discriminate between fact and fiction.
Pulling back layers...
In an attempt to peer into my emotions...
From a rational place outside of myself.
They begin to separate from my psyche...
As I attempt to judge them as authentic...
Or as simply an invented paranoia.
These are hours spent analyzing...
What I have said, thought and felt...
And they read like a map.
They acknowledge where I have been...
But more importantly...
Where I intend to go.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
What I Have Become...
What I have become...
No one should have to be...
What I have lost...
No one understands but me...
No one should have to be...
What I have lost...
No one understands but me...
What I have endured...
No one should have to see...
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Missing Pieces
It's difficult living as half a puzzle. I spend everyday feeling so incomplete...so unfinished.
But just eight months ago...I was complete...finished...and happy.
For 26 years I searched for the missing pieces to complete my life...
And I found them in Susan.
Laughter...
Compassion...
Hope...
Acceptance...
Love...
But suddenly they've been knocked off the table...lost.
No matter where I look...
They're missing.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Tomorrow
I've been pretty discombobulated this past week...a little crazy to say the least...not insane, but awful close to the line that separates sanity from insanity.
With Susan's Birthday approaching and the Holidays on the way...I have found the thoughts in my head becoming progressively more distraught, disconnected, desolate and hopeless. I'm trying to prepare myself for the worst...but I'm still very anxious about tomorrow and the months ahead.
How does one react to the Birthday of their deceased wife, lover and best friend? I'm not sure. Basically I have no idea what tomorrow is going to bring in the form of emotions and pain. And that frightens me to the bone.
It's not a great way to feel...and truthfully it's doing a number on me. I looked into the mirror again today and barely recognized myself. I appear to be aging by the day...carrying despair in my heart and holding anguish in my eyes. I can't help searching the reflection for the guy who loved his life and had finally made peace with himself because of his loving wife. I'm often left wondering why this happened to my family.
And I can't help thinking about what tomorrow could have been.
It's not a great way to feel...and truthfully it's doing a number on me. I looked into the mirror again today and barely recognized myself. I appear to be aging by the day...carrying despair in my heart and holding anguish in my eyes. I can't help searching the reflection for the guy who loved his life and had finally made peace with himself because of his loving wife. I'm often left wondering why this happened to my family.
And I can't help thinking about what tomorrow could have been.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
I Want to Know....
Feeling so alone tonight...
I want to know if you've ever felt the same way too...
A friend told me to try and push on through...
But I'm so tired of pushing...
All I want is for someone to pull me in...
A friend to hold me and understand where I've been...
But I'm so tired of waiting...
Feeling so alone tonight...
I want to know if you've ever felt the same way too...
I want to know if you've ever felt the same way too...
A friend told me to try and push on through...
But I'm so tired of pushing...
All I want is for someone to pull me in...
A friend to hold me and understand where I've been...
But I'm so tired of waiting...
Feeling so alone tonight...
I want to know if you've ever felt the same way too...
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Circumstance
Strange things happen when tragedy enters your life.
You develop a moniker…a label…a title…a tag. A new way of being looked at...categorized...and filed away. You somehow have become a condition...a case...a plight...a circumstance.
But all you want...is to be treated like a person again.
You suddenly realize there are only a precious few who can listen. Who can stomach looking into your face when it's filled with anguish. Who can make it about you instead of them...even though you are both in pain.
These special few realize they have someone in their lives to help with their pain...and you no longer have anyone by your side each day.
But it still hurts that you can count on two hands...the number of people who continue to reach out even though you can't always find the strength to reach back.
Many have fallen to the side...they are no longer there...no longer present. With some you expected this...but with most you were brutally caught off guard...blindsided by their absence or inability to communicate.
But people have trouble dealing with death...and you my friend...are death personified. A living, walking, talking symbol of...tragedy...sorrow...and pain.
You develop a moniker…a label…a title…a tag. A new way of being looked at...categorized...and filed away. You somehow have become a condition...a case...a plight...a circumstance.
But all you want...is to be treated like a person again.
You suddenly realize there are only a precious few who can listen. Who can stomach looking into your face when it's filled with anguish. Who can make it about you instead of them...even though you are both in pain.
These special few realize they have someone in their lives to help with their pain...and you no longer have anyone by your side each day.
But it still hurts that you can count on two hands...the number of people who continue to reach out even though you can't always find the strength to reach back.
Many have fallen to the side...they are no longer there...no longer present. With some you expected this...but with most you were brutally caught off guard...blindsided by their absence or inability to communicate.
But people have trouble dealing with death...and you my friend...are death personified. A living, walking, talking symbol of...tragedy...sorrow...and pain.
Because of this...many have begun to handle you with kid gloves.
So gently...that at times...they don’t seem to be there at all. Too fearful of saying the wrong thing...not saying enough...or of hearing what they don't want to envision you experiencing.
So instead...they leave it all unsaid.
In their heads...they've probably imagined a conversation many times...so many times...that they might actually believe they've had it.
But they haven't spoken to you in weeks.
You wish those sorrowful looks they gave in passing were enough...but they aren't.
You need to be listened to...understood...accepted...touched.
So at a time when grief exposes you at your most human...you are treated the least like a person. Instead you have become a tragic circumstance. Something for others to think about, worry about, and pray for...from a safe distance.
So gently...that at times...they don’t seem to be there at all. Too fearful of saying the wrong thing...not saying enough...or of hearing what they don't want to envision you experiencing.
So instead...they leave it all unsaid.
In their heads...they've probably imagined a conversation many times...so many times...that they might actually believe they've had it.
But they haven't spoken to you in weeks.
You wish those sorrowful looks they gave in passing were enough...but they aren't.
You need to be listened to...understood...accepted...touched.
So at a time when grief exposes you at your most human...you are treated the least like a person. Instead you have become a tragic circumstance. Something for others to think about, worry about, and pray for...from a safe distance.
It seems hard for people to get close to you now. Perhaps it hurts too much to digest your pain...or is too uncomfortable to remember there is a person wrapped up in that tragic circumstance.
Because of this….You go through stages where you believe others have forgotten…moved on…or lost interest. Suddenly you view yourself as a ten day news cycle...front page news that finally faded away as others continued living.
But now as the shock has worn off...and you really need them...you're too scared to ask because they seem indifferent. They may even be waiting for you to ask.
But instead it all goes unsaid. And you remain a circumstance...alone…isolated…and abandoned.
But now as the shock has worn off...and you really need them...you're too scared to ask because they seem indifferent. They may even be waiting for you to ask.
But instead it all goes unsaid. And you remain a circumstance...alone…isolated…and abandoned.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Eight Months
I looked in the mirror today...
I looked for perhaps the first time in eight months...
I searched the glass...
I searched for life...
I stared at the face across...
I stared at his eyes...
He looked tired...old...and torn...
He looked defeated and alone...
He searched his mind...
He searched his heart...
He stared back...
He stared with empty eyes...
I looked for perhaps the first time in eight months...
I searched the glass...
I searched for life...
I stared at the face across...
I stared at his eyes...
He looked tired...old...and torn...
He looked defeated and alone...
He searched his mind...
He searched his heart...
He stared back...
He stared with empty eyes...
Monday, October 24, 2011
My Own Private Limbo
So this isn't the story I would have written for myself or my family...
If my life were to read like a book...
These are pages I would rip out and rewrite.
But over the last several months...
I've learned I can't revise the past.
I can't write it away...
Wish it away...
Or pray it away...
I also can't pretend it never happened...
I can't ignore it or push it aside.
So I'm stuck here...
Somewhere between denial and acceptance.
In my own private limbo...
If my life were to read like a book...
These are pages I would rip out and rewrite.
But over the last several months...
I've learned I can't revise the past.I can't write it away...
Wish it away...
Or pray it away...
I also can't pretend it never happened...
I can't ignore it or push it aside.
So I'm stuck here...
Somewhere between denial and acceptance.
In my own private limbo...
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Writer's Block
I have at least fifty scraps of paper with thoughts scribbled on them.
On envelopes, receipts, post-its and grocery lists...I have dashed out my grief.
It happens as I drive...shop...and do laundry. But never is there enough time to put it together...to express it...or to make peace with my new self.
Life has gotten in the way of my writing...my grieving...and my healing.
My mind explodes with thoughts that are jumbled, mismatched and disturbing.
But I can't seem to get them out...or to make sense of my head.
I'm stuck.
My mind is spinning like the wheels of a car in a snow drift.
Moving and moving...
Faster and faster...
But getting nowhere.
I long for those days and moments when I could sit and express my emotions as the kids slept and I wrote the night away.
But life has gotten in the way.
No longer is there time to think...to write...or to accept my new existence.
On envelopes, receipts, post-its and grocery lists...I have dashed out my grief.
It happens as I drive...shop...and do laundry. But never is there enough time to put it together...to express it...or to make peace with my new self.
Life has gotten in the way of my writing...my grieving...and my healing.
My mind explodes with thoughts that are jumbled, mismatched and disturbing.
But I can't seem to get them out...or to make sense of my head.
I'm stuck.
My mind is spinning like the wheels of a car in a snow drift.
Moving and moving...
Faster and faster...
But getting nowhere.
I long for those days and moments when I could sit and express my emotions as the kids slept and I wrote the night away.
But life has gotten in the way.
No longer is there time to think...to write...or to accept my new existence.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
The Words to Your Favorite Song
Tonight I was grading and listening to music...I heard a Regina Spektor song that spoke the words I couldn't find on my own...
It's like forgetting the words
To your favorite song
You can't believe it
You were always singing along
It was so easy
And the words so sweet
You can't remember
You try to move your feet
It was so easy
And the words so sweet
You can't remember
You try to feel the beat
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Broken
Over the past few days...I have been feeling truly broken.
The beginning of the school year, the house hold tasks, raising two young boys and missing my best friend have finally caught up with me.
Since August...I have been a gust of "get it done" energy. In survival mode...I washed...I rushed...I cleaned...I did it all...in order to survive the everyday obstacles of raising two young boys...alone.
While surviving...I toughed it out...not just with the housekeeping, but with the feelings deep in my heart and my mind. I pushed past approaching moments of grief as I felt them creep up on me...so I could raise my boys...teach my class...and take care of my home.
But as Autumn appeared over my shoulder...that energy dissipated...and was replaced with so many emotions I had put aside while trying to survive each day without her. She rushed back into my mind as the leaves began to take on the color of her beauty.
Fall was her season...it suited her...full of color, cool breezes and contrast. But there is an emptiness in it now. A missing radiance...a dulled brilliance. She is gone...and nothing can replace her spirit...her laugh...her love.
I spent Tuesday night pleading with God to give her back to me...if only for a moment. For one last laugh...touch...or kiss. But he denied me. So I curled into a heap...cradled myself...and sobbed...as if crying would get me what I longed for.
There was no sleep to be had as I watched the hours tumble into morning.
Up all night...and nothing had changed...she was gone. The pleading...the begging...had made no difference.
As I stared at the clock...I listened to my boys breathe in their sleep...and realized I was utterly alone.
There was no Susan...no arms to soothe my pain...no whispers to ease my mind.
The only one who could guide me through this fall...was the one I was so desperately missing...the one I couldn't stop seeking...the one whose beauty I had seen in the grace of the falling autumn leaves.
The beginning of the school year, the house hold tasks, raising two young boys and missing my best friend have finally caught up with me.
Since August...I have been a gust of "get it done" energy. In survival mode...I washed...I rushed...I cleaned...I did it all...in order to survive the everyday obstacles of raising two young boys...alone.
While surviving...I toughed it out...not just with the housekeeping, but with the feelings deep in my heart and my mind. I pushed past approaching moments of grief as I felt them creep up on me...so I could raise my boys...teach my class...and take care of my home.
But as Autumn appeared over my shoulder...that energy dissipated...and was replaced with so many emotions I had put aside while trying to survive each day without her. She rushed back into my mind as the leaves began to take on the color of her beauty.
Fall was her season...it suited her...full of color, cool breezes and contrast. But there is an emptiness in it now. A missing radiance...a dulled brilliance. She is gone...and nothing can replace her spirit...her laugh...her love.
I spent Tuesday night pleading with God to give her back to me...if only for a moment. For one last laugh...touch...or kiss. But he denied me. So I curled into a heap...cradled myself...and sobbed...as if crying would get me what I longed for.
There was no sleep to be had as I watched the hours tumble into morning.
Up all night...and nothing had changed...she was gone. The pleading...the begging...had made no difference.
As I stared at the clock...I listened to my boys breathe in their sleep...and realized I was utterly alone.
There was no Susan...no arms to soothe my pain...no whispers to ease my mind.
The only one who could guide me through this fall...was the one I was so desperately missing...the one I couldn't stop seeking...the one whose beauty I had seen in the grace of the falling autumn leaves.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Autumn
Driving home today
I saw her auburn hair
In the Autumn trees
Pressed against the blue sky
The colors emerged
And burned into my soul
Monday, September 26, 2011
7 Months
Wasn't expecting this...
Tears tore me apart...
Memories small and big...
Flooded my head all day...
Glimpses of her smile...
Flashes of her wit...
Visions of her beauty...
I saw her in my mind...
I stared at her in photos...
I pleaded for her to be...
With me...
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Student of the Week
He had big news...
He had been picked as Student of the Week.
There were pictures to gather and forms to fill out.
He couldn't wait...
He didn't hesitate.
But I did.
I saw question one on his Star Student Sheet...
My family?
One more moment of happiness turned bittersweet.
I choked on my own breath as I watched his little hand write...
Dad...Ben...Me.
And then nothing else.
It seemed effortless...
As if he had done it without thought.
But was that true?
Or was he thinking...
And did he pause for a moment while writing?
I believe he did.
The instant after he wrote that capital M...
His pencil tip seemed to hover a fraction longer...
He seemed to contemplate.
And I wondered...
If he was going to write Mom or Me...
Was he uncertain too?
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Here
More than ever...
I feel like a man in transition...
A project in the making...
I was done reinventing myself...
Reinventing my life...
I had finally discovered myself...
Found myself with her...
I was the man I dreamed of being...
With the woman I dreamed of being with...
Now I'm here...
Alone...
Struggling to find myself again...
I feel like a man in transition...
A project in the making...
I was done reinventing myself...
Reinventing my life...
I had finally discovered myself...
Found myself with her...
I was the man I dreamed of being...
With the woman I dreamed of being with...
Now I'm here...
Alone...
Struggling to find myself again...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Frozen
Had another one of those moments last night...
As I tumbled and rolled in out of sleep...
She didn't come to me in a dream...
But in my mind she was still here...
In those seconds between conscious and unconscious thought...
Nothing had changed...
For a mere instant I felt complete...comforted...warm...
But time moves quickly...
Reality surfaces...
And warmth is short lived as certainty settles in...
And I'm left staring at the clock...
Frozen...
As I face my existence...
As I tumbled and rolled in out of sleep...
She didn't come to me in a dream...
But in my mind she was still here...
In those seconds between conscious and unconscious thought...
Nothing had changed...
For a mere instant I felt complete...comforted...warm...
But time moves quickly...
Reality surfaces...
And warmth is short lived as certainty settles in...
And I'm left staring at the clock...
Frozen...
As I face my existence...
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Melancholy
Abrupt outbreaks of malaise...
Startling moments of despondence...
Anguish that swells up inside me....
Sweeps over me...
And ripples throughout my day...
Sudden flurries of tribulation...
Unforeseen periods of weakness...
Startling moments of despondence...
Anguish that swells up inside me....
Sweeps over me...
And ripples throughout my day...
Sudden flurries of tribulation...
Unforeseen periods of weakness...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Damn Stick People
So even stickers can turn a good day...Into a bad night.
As we left soccer practice...
Ben spotted a mini van...
It's back window was covered with one of those adorable stick people families...
He looked up at me and said,
Are we ever going to be able to get stickers like that?
We don't have a dog or a Mom anymore.
I guess we probably can't get those.
What could I say?
I tried to say...
We are a family...
We have a Mom...
She's in our hearts...
But he wants the family everybody else still has...
A Mom and a Dad...
A couple of kids...
And a happy ending...
Monday, September 5, 2011
Next to Her
She had no idea what it was like to be next to her...
To be in her embrace...
To be gazed upon by her eyes...
To be enveloped by her grace...
But I did...
To be in her embrace...
To be gazed upon by her eyes...
To be enveloped by her grace...
But I did...
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Finding Susan
I visited the cemetery today...I don't even call it visiting Susan anymore. She's not there when I go...but she has to be somewhere...I just have trouble wrapping my mind around where.
Susan doesn't come to me in dreams...she doesn't leave me signs. Not sure why...but I keep looking...hoping...and waiting for her to send me a message. I'm starting to think that isn't how it works. Maybe she's not going to show herself through a rainbow...a flower...or a bird. Perhaps she appears everyday in the way the boys and I live...and love each other.
So lately instead of looking for signs...or praying at night for a dream...I've started searching her out in the boys and myself. I look for what she taught us...what she instilled in us...how her love inspired us. I believe this is where Susan can be found...in our actions...our words...and our beliefs. Because she affects our thoughts...our attitudes...and our hearts.
It doesn't take long to spot her in the boys. Susan is evident in Ben's stubborn streaks and Luke's caring nature. She appears on Ben's face while he laughs and in Luke's eyes when he cries. But I am also finding her in myself.
Susan touched my life..my mind...and my heart...in ways no other person I've ever known. I know she opened my heart in a way it never was before. Through Susan...I finally believed in love...and lived for the first time. Now as I begin to live again...she's right there with me...and her love is the reason for it.
So why did I have this abrupt jolt of self awareness? All these thoughts didn't come as easily as they are now written on this page. For weeks...I have been having a difficult time in my own head. Conflicted about my unexpected ability to feel joy even in Susan's absence.
Quite suddenly I had stopped dwelling in my grief. I was going hours at a time without feeling the heart wrenching pain of loss. This made me believe I was going hours without thinking about her...or perhaps worse...I was forgetting about her.
I was living...and it confused me...scared me...and made me unsettled. I began questioning how this could happen. Was my love for Sue fading as I lived...as I moved forward? Had my love been weakened by her death? Was I mistaken about the strength of our love? All these uncertainties tore at my insides.
But this past week at school...I recognized that she constantly crisscrosses my mind as I have moments of peace. I was wrapped up in the pure joy of teaching...and there she was in my head...as I thought of how much she would have laughed about what this kid had just said. And I smiled. I hadn't forgotten...my love wasn't fading...or weakened...it was right there.
Now I realize that Susan emerges during moments of happiness too. I am no longer merely dwelling on her death and the pain it brings. Susan is with me at all times...during both sorrow and joy.
She flashes into my head as the boys do something that I know would make her smile. She bursts into my thoughts when I hear a song that reminds me of our love. She pulses in my heart when the boys and I fall down laughing. She rushes into my memory when I want to tell her that I'm living again.
I think of her now and smile...as the tears roll down my face...because Susan radiates in me...and in this new life we share. She will always be by my side...in my heart...and on my mind.
Susan doesn't come to me in dreams...she doesn't leave me signs. Not sure why...but I keep looking...hoping...and waiting for her to send me a message. I'm starting to think that isn't how it works. Maybe she's not going to show herself through a rainbow...a flower...or a bird. Perhaps she appears everyday in the way the boys and I live...and love each other.
So lately instead of looking for signs...or praying at night for a dream...I've started searching her out in the boys and myself. I look for what she taught us...what she instilled in us...how her love inspired us. I believe this is where Susan can be found...in our actions...our words...and our beliefs. Because she affects our thoughts...our attitudes...and our hearts.
It doesn't take long to spot her in the boys. Susan is evident in Ben's stubborn streaks and Luke's caring nature. She appears on Ben's face while he laughs and in Luke's eyes when he cries. But I am also finding her in myself.
Susan touched my life..my mind...and my heart...in ways no other person I've ever known. I know she opened my heart in a way it never was before. Through Susan...I finally believed in love...and lived for the first time. Now as I begin to live again...she's right there with me...and her love is the reason for it.
So why did I have this abrupt jolt of self awareness? All these thoughts didn't come as easily as they are now written on this page. For weeks...I have been having a difficult time in my own head. Conflicted about my unexpected ability to feel joy even in Susan's absence.
Quite suddenly I had stopped dwelling in my grief. I was going hours at a time without feeling the heart wrenching pain of loss. This made me believe I was going hours without thinking about her...or perhaps worse...I was forgetting about her.
I was living...and it confused me...scared me...and made me unsettled. I began questioning how this could happen. Was my love for Sue fading as I lived...as I moved forward? Had my love been weakened by her death? Was I mistaken about the strength of our love? All these uncertainties tore at my insides.
But this past week at school...I recognized that she constantly crisscrosses my mind as I have moments of peace. I was wrapped up in the pure joy of teaching...and there she was in my head...as I thought of how much she would have laughed about what this kid had just said. And I smiled. I hadn't forgotten...my love wasn't fading...or weakened...it was right there.
Now I realize that Susan emerges during moments of happiness too. I am no longer merely dwelling on her death and the pain it brings. Susan is with me at all times...during both sorrow and joy.
She flashes into my head as the boys do something that I know would make her smile. She bursts into my thoughts when I hear a song that reminds me of our love. She pulses in my heart when the boys and I fall down laughing. She rushes into my memory when I want to tell her that I'm living again.
I think of her now and smile...as the tears roll down my face...because Susan radiates in me...and in this new life we share. She will always be by my side...in my heart...and on my mind.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Details
Conversations go on all around me.
Sometimes with me...
Sometimes near me...
Sometimes behind me...
Sometimes in the distance...
But I have great ears.
At soccer games...
At the store...
At work...
On my driveway...
I hear voices consumed with details.
Small worries...
Small concerns...
And small problems...
That could be...
And should be...
Easily dismissed...
Easily ignored...
Or easily fixed...
Six months ago I was part of that anxiety trap...
Complaining about whatever turned over my apple cart.
I didn't know any better...
I was naive about anguish...
I was ignorant about pain...
But my life has changed...
My perspective has shifted...
Tragedy has a way of doing that...
No longer is my mind fragmented...
With thousands of small concerns.
My head has split into three...The Boys...Susan...and Me...
Perhaps that's how it should have been all along.
Did I squander away my life before with details?
Concerns that never materialized?
Worries that never came to fruition?
Thoughts that had no impact on my life?
Now all I think about...
All I can think about...
Is how to help my boys...
How to keep Susan in our minds...
And how to be the person I want to be...
All of those questions are layered...
But my objective has narrowed...
I simply can't exhaust myself with triviality...
Insignificant details hold no weight...
My life is already too heavy.
Sometimes with me...
Sometimes near me...
Sometimes behind me...
Sometimes in the distance...
But I have great ears.
At soccer games...
At the store...
At work...
On my driveway...
I hear voices consumed with details.
Small worries...
Small concerns...
And small problems...
That could be...
And should be...
Easily dismissed...
Easily ignored...
Or easily fixed...
Six months ago I was part of that anxiety trap...
Complaining about whatever turned over my apple cart.
I didn't know any better...
I was naive about anguish...
I was ignorant about pain...
But my life has changed...
My perspective has shifted...
Tragedy has a way of doing that...
No longer is my mind fragmented...
With thousands of small concerns.
My head has split into three...The Boys...Susan...and Me...
Perhaps that's how it should have been all along.
Did I squander away my life before with details?
Concerns that never materialized?
Worries that never came to fruition?
Thoughts that had no impact on my life?
Now all I think about...
All I can think about...
Is how to help my boys...
How to keep Susan in our minds...
And how to be the person I want to be...
All of those questions are layered...
But my objective has narrowed...
I simply can't exhaust myself with triviality...
Insignificant details hold no weight...
My life is already too heavy.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Last Thing I Remember
Six months ago tonight...we spent our last night together.
No idea how we fell asleep...but it was late.
Talking...laughing...touching...under the sheets.
Maybe she drifted first...or perhaps it was me.
But the last thing I remember was being in love...
So content to be interwoven...legs tangled...arms encircled...lips whispering...
Waking was easy for the last time.
Dreaming as my eyes opened and floated to her face.
Stroking her hair and caressing her cheek as I stared.
But the last thing I remember was feeling blessed...
So thankful to be connected...minds linked...souls shared...hearts adoring....
Dressed I unknowingly said my final goodbye.
Slipping out of sleep as I kissed her brow.
Raising her arm for one last kiss.
But the last thing I remember is walking down the stairs a lucky man...
So grateful to be together...hopes shared...dreams planned...futures waiting...
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Tomorrow
I'm scared.
Afraid of the first day.
Tomorrow I meet my students.
Will I be who I was?
I've only wanted three things in life.
To be a husband.
To be a father.
To be a teacher.
I was robbed of the first.
Scared to lose the rest.
Everyday I struggle to be the man I was.
Will I face the same battle tomorrow?
Afraid of the first day.
Tomorrow I meet my students.
Will I be who I was?
I've only wanted three things in life.
To be a husband.
To be a father.
To be a teacher.
I was robbed of the first.
Scared to lose the rest.
Everyday I struggle to be the man I was.
Will I face the same battle tomorrow?
Friday, August 19, 2011
Observer
I'm a big looker...an observer...especially as I drive.
I stare into other people's cars...
Trying to figure out their story...their lives...
What makes them smile or scowl...
As they sit alone.
Now as I drive...I often wonder...if someone...somewhere...is doing the same to me.
Can they guess my story?
By my expression...
As I stare into space...
By my exasperation...
As tears run down my face...
I stare into other people's cars...
Trying to figure out their story...their lives...
What makes them smile or scowl...
As they sit alone.
Now as I drive...I often wonder...if someone...somewhere...is doing the same to me.
Can they guess my story?
By my expression...
As I stare into space...
By my exasperation...
As tears run down my face...
Thursday, August 18, 2011
The Bridge
The break down came again tonight.
I held it off all day, but I should know better by now.
Who am I trying to fool? Certainly not myself.
This sadness has become like an unwanted partner...always trailing me...sneaking up on me...sinking into me...crawling on my skin...absorbing into my mind.
I hate it, but I can't shake it.
It feels like it's here to stay.
Why won't it simply go away?
I don't look for it or seek it out...but I always sense it's near.
Today was a day when I knew it was coming.
But that didn't stop me from trying to ignore it...trying to duck it...trying to play stupid as I felt it gaining on me.
It was a lonely heartache...almost like a weight on my chest...as if I was carrying sadness in my lungs.
So what's so special about today...about tonight?
Why did I know?
Because the boys start school tomorrow...Benny goes to Kindergarten.
Susan was so anxious and hesitant about this day...the day before her baby become a Kindergartner.
She should be here feeling this with me right now...but she's not...and I'm forced to feel it alone...and try to experience it for two.
You see...Sue and I are nothing, if not sentimental...and this day...this night for Susan...represented a bridge Benny would cross into another part of his life...one Susan will never know...and one Ben will never know with her.
I remember the emotions she had about Luke when he arrived at this day...and I know how she felt about Ben someday following Luke into adolescence...into a time where he would begin losing some of his innocence.
If only I could see her...and talk with her about our little boy.
But I can't...that I'm not allowed.
So I'm left here...to try and play it out in my head...to meet today...tonight...and tomorrow on my own.
I held it off all day, but I should know better by now.
Who am I trying to fool? Certainly not myself.
This sadness has become like an unwanted partner...always trailing me...sneaking up on me...sinking into me...crawling on my skin...absorbing into my mind.
I hate it, but I can't shake it.
It feels like it's here to stay.
Why won't it simply go away?
I don't look for it or seek it out...but I always sense it's near.
Today was a day when I knew it was coming.
But that didn't stop me from trying to ignore it...trying to duck it...trying to play stupid as I felt it gaining on me.
All day I felt sort of numb...lost...and clouded over.
So what's so special about today...about tonight?
Why did I know?
Because the boys start school tomorrow...Benny goes to Kindergarten.
Susan was so anxious and hesitant about this day...the day before her baby become a Kindergartner.
She should be here feeling this with me right now...but she's not...and I'm forced to feel it alone...and try to experience it for two.
You see...Sue and I are nothing, if not sentimental...and this day...this night for Susan...represented a bridge Benny would cross into another part of his life...one Susan will never know...and one Ben will never know with her.
I remember the emotions she had about Luke when he arrived at this day...and I know how she felt about Ben someday following Luke into adolescence...into a time where he would begin losing some of his innocence.
If only I could see her...and talk with her about our little boy.
But I can't...that I'm not allowed.
So I'm left here...to try and play it out in my head...to meet today...tonight...and tomorrow on my own.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Hey Man - Eels WITH LYRICS
To all my widowed friends who know what it's like to fall on the floor and cry our guts out until we've got no more...maybe someday we will see the sun rise over the hill and it will give us a thrill...
Monday, August 15, 2011
Pictures
Pictures of Susan...
These are the same images that have hung on our walls forever...they've always been up.
They've been in the same place for the last six months...but suddenly...I'm noticing them.
They are catching my eye...catching me off guard...in moments of peace...that quickly turn to moments of grief.
I see these pictures from angles I haven't before.
They sneak up on me as I turn a corner...or pick up a sock...or catch my reflection in a mirror.
They leave me longing...to go back in time...when I was next to her...when I was holding her...when we were a family of four.
So what do I do?
Take them down...so I don't hurt...so I don't ache.
Remove all sight of my love?
Or just continue to meet the pain each day...as each photo catches me.
Will I move past this?
Will I begin to feel joy in those images again...instead of holding sadness in my heart?
These are the same images that have hung on our walls forever...they've always been up.
They've been in the same place for the last six months...but suddenly...I'm noticing them.
They are catching my eye...catching me off guard...in moments of peace...that quickly turn to moments of grief.
I see these pictures from angles I haven't before.
They sneak up on me as I turn a corner...or pick up a sock...or catch my reflection in a mirror.
They leave me longing...to go back in time...when I was next to her...when I was holding her...when we were a family of four.
So what do I do?
Take them down...so I don't hurt...so I don't ache.
Remove all sight of my love?
Or just continue to meet the pain each day...as each photo catches me.
Will I move past this?
Will I begin to feel joy in those images again...instead of holding sadness in my heart?
Thursday, August 11, 2011
My Life
Someone the other day...
Suggested I'm writing a book...
I laughed...
Because I'm writing for my life...
Suggested I'm writing a book...
I laughed...
Because I'm writing for my life...
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday
Monday morning started with Ben in tears.
Nothing hurts like seeing your child ache...long...and cry...for his mother. And there was nothing I could do...but hold him and say...I miss her too...
And I do...but the difference is...he eventually went on with his day...and I couldn't. The pain of losing Susan strikes particularly deep on certain days...and Monday was one of those days.
Ben's tears started after Luke told him his birthday was only a day away. Instantly I could see the pain hit him...he knew...I want Mommy to be at my Birthday. Then it struck me...and it lasted all day.
I was able to control my sorrow for most of the day...so I could function...so I could get us through the day. I tried to stay busy...I tried to evade the pain...push it aside...sweep it under the carpet. But it was still there...and eventually...I knew it would emerge.
Before dinner...I found myself in the basement...trying to avoid it...by organizing. But there was too much of Susan in those piles...every time I tried to sort things...another memory surfaced...and tears rolled down my face.
So I moved to an area that would not be interwoven with memories of Susan...the boxes and bins of hand me down clothes the boys had received from their cousins.
I began making Goodwill bags out of all the clothes the boys would never wear. One pile to keep...one pile to donate. It worked for awhile. The tears dried...and I was together enough to cook a good meal for the boys...and smile a bit at dinner.
After we finished eating...the rain started...and there was no outside for us to escape to on a Monday night. The boys played in the basement...and I decided to continue my avoidance with the boxes of hand me downs...that's when I came upon some bins with her handwriting....0-3 months...3-6 months...6-9 months...9-12 months...the boys' old clothes.
I opened the bins...one by one.
Memories flooded my head...and I began to drown in my own tears. Every shirt...bib... and set of pajamas...held a memory...a time that only Susan and I had shared with one of the boys.
Stories and moments filled my mind. But now I held all those memories alone...never to laugh with her about them again. No one else could possibly understand the joy that happened when my boys wore those clothes.
It was shocking and heartbreaking to realize that no other person on this earth...could understand the importance of Luke's stained light blue onesie...beacuse they weren't there...when Luke laughed for the first time.
So the tears rolled...and the sobbing started...and the boys came. They touched me...and held my face. Luke wrapped himself around me...as if he was trying to pull the pain out of me...but I just wailed. It was all too much...I wanted her back...I needed her.
Eventually...I melted into Luke's lap on the basement stairs...and he stroked my head as I bawled.
So I hung up the phone...and went it alone. I pulled myself together...and gave the boys a shower. I brushed their teeth...and put them in pajamas.
Nothing hurts like seeing your child ache...long...and cry...for his mother. And there was nothing I could do...but hold him and say...I miss her too...
And I do...but the difference is...he eventually went on with his day...and I couldn't. The pain of losing Susan strikes particularly deep on certain days...and Monday was one of those days.
Ben's tears started after Luke told him his birthday was only a day away. Instantly I could see the pain hit him...he knew...I want Mommy to be at my Birthday. Then it struck me...and it lasted all day.
I was able to control my sorrow for most of the day...so I could function...so I could get us through the day. I tried to stay busy...I tried to evade the pain...push it aside...sweep it under the carpet. But it was still there...and eventually...I knew it would emerge.
Before dinner...I found myself in the basement...trying to avoid it...by organizing. But there was too much of Susan in those piles...every time I tried to sort things...another memory surfaced...and tears rolled down my face.
So I moved to an area that would not be interwoven with memories of Susan...the boxes and bins of hand me down clothes the boys had received from their cousins.
I began making Goodwill bags out of all the clothes the boys would never wear. One pile to keep...one pile to donate. It worked for awhile. The tears dried...and I was together enough to cook a good meal for the boys...and smile a bit at dinner.
After we finished eating...the rain started...and there was no outside for us to escape to on a Monday night. The boys played in the basement...and I decided to continue my avoidance with the boxes of hand me downs...that's when I came upon some bins with her handwriting....0-3 months...3-6 months...6-9 months...9-12 months...the boys' old clothes.
I opened the bins...one by one.
Memories flooded my head...and I began to drown in my own tears. Every shirt...bib... and set of pajamas...held a memory...a time that only Susan and I had shared with one of the boys.
Stories and moments filled my mind. But now I held all those memories alone...never to laugh with her about them again. No one else could possibly understand the joy that happened when my boys wore those clothes.
It was shocking and heartbreaking to realize that no other person on this earth...could understand the importance of Luke's stained light blue onesie...beacuse they weren't there...when Luke laughed for the first time.
So the tears rolled...and the sobbing started...and the boys came. They touched me...and held my face. Luke wrapped himself around me...as if he was trying to pull the pain out of me...but I just wailed. It was all too much...I wanted her back...I needed her.
Eventually...I melted into Luke's lap on the basement stairs...and he stroked my head as I bawled.
I had no idea a human being could cry for an hour...but I did. At one point I knew I needed help. I had to be with someone...or talk to someone. I had to be understood.
I stood with the phone in my hand...and had no idea who to call. I wasn't sure I could put what was happening to me into words. I didn't think anyone could understand...and all I wanted was to be understood...and I was just too tired to explain.
Then I put them in bed...and fell down beside them. I laid there...thinking...and wishing...and cursing...until I fell asleep.
There are moments when I feel hope...and think that the boys and I will eventually be okay...but on days like Monday...I feel hopeless...and alone.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Unfamiliar Life
I've collected all my thoughts...
But I won't hide them in boxes...
I have to be true and honest...
Because that's what this life causes...
Everything around me looks the same...
But I can feel my distance...
I cry at past images...
Because they lack their old brilliance...
I turn my head and look around...
But what else can I do...
I resist this unfamiliar life...
Because I never asked for anything new...
But I won't hide them in boxes...
I have to be true and honest...
Because that's what this life causes...
Everything around me looks the same...
But I can feel my distance...
I cry at past images...
Because they lack their old brilliance...
I turn my head and look around...
But what else can I do...
I resist this unfamiliar life...
Because I never asked for anything new...
Morning Break
In the first moments when I awake...
When I begin to break from dreams...
In my mind she is still living...
Split seconds in the morning...
In my head....
Where my day and her blend...
As I fight off last night's sleep...
I catch myself wondering how she will fit into today...
Then I realize she is gone...
The feeling is devastating...
It leaves me shaking...
But I meet it every morning...
As I lay awake...
Wishing...
When I begin to break from dreams...
In my mind she is still living...
Split seconds in the morning...
In my head....
Where my day and her blend...
As I fight off last night's sleep...
I catch myself wondering how she will fit into today...
Then I realize she is gone...
The feeling is devastating...
It leaves me shaking...
But I meet it every morning...
As I lay awake...
Wishing...
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Minutia
I miss sharing the minutia of my life...
Those intimate moments that only a partner can understand...
How work was...
How the boys are changing...
Those little rituals that only we did together...
Jokes that make sense to no one else....
Even aggravations that seem so silly now...
I miss my Susan...
Those intimate moments that only a partner can understand...
How work was...
How the boys are changing...
Those little rituals that only we did together...
Jokes that make sense to no one else....
Even aggravations that seem so silly now...
I miss my Susan...
Monday, August 1, 2011
I Caught Myself
Some days I truly realize this blog is just for me.
When I write...I'm forced to think. And the more I thought about Caught...the more I realized the sorrow I was "caught" in...came about because I was so ashamed about living.
I'm not hiding my grief...I'm trying to hide the fact that I'm starting to live again...without her.
I felt alive this week...on vacation...with my boys in Colorado. We played...laughed....smiled...and enjoyed ourselves. But with every moment of peace...comes a moment of shame. If there has ever been a double-edged sword...surely I am living it.
When do I get to live again...without feeling like I'm betraying her...like I'm moving on without her?
This was not my choice...but it is my future.
How do I move forward...when all I want is my past?
When I write...I'm forced to think. And the more I thought about Caught...the more I realized the sorrow I was "caught" in...came about because I was so ashamed about living.
I'm not hiding my grief...I'm trying to hide the fact that I'm starting to live again...without her.
I felt alive this week...on vacation...with my boys in Colorado. We played...laughed....smiled...and enjoyed ourselves. But with every moment of peace...comes a moment of shame. If there has ever been a double-edged sword...surely I am living it.
When do I get to live again...without feeling like I'm betraying her...like I'm moving on without her?
This was not my choice...but it is my future.
How do I move forward...when all I want is my past?
Sunday, July 31, 2011
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.
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.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Her Lovelys
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...
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
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...
Lasts a long time...
I can't understand...
Why she's gone...
But I feel her...
Inside...
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
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...
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...
Monday, July 25, 2011
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...
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...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
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...
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...
Friday, July 22, 2011
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.
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.
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.
Monday, July 18, 2011
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...
Saturday, July 16, 2011
This Morning
I couldn't get out of bed this morning...
Because last night I dreamed it never happened...
Because last night I dreamed it never happened...
Friday, July 15, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
"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?
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....
This God...
The faith I had...
The innocence I lost...
Everything is changed...
Perspective...
Acceptance...
Understanding...
Me...
My boys...
Our lives....
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
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.
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
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...
Monday, July 11, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
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.
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.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
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…
Friday, July 8, 2011
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
Monday, July 4, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
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...
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Last Picture
I guess he liked it...never got to see his reaction in person...gone to work by the time he awoke. I hated missing things like that.
Susan was always good about trying to make me feel like I was there when I couldn't be. She sent me this picture...last e-mail I got. I just replied...Thanks that made me smile so big.
Just like she made him smile in this last photo. It's hard to look at this...to realize she is making him laugh because she is full of life...and hours later he will be crying because she's not.
I stare at it and wonder what she was saying. I would give anything to have that one last full day with her...to know what happened. How she spent it...who she talked to...what she said.
Anything to understand her day. But what I have is this final photo on our camera, some fuzzy memories of a four and six year old and a few e-mails she sent...all happy...all funny...all her.
It's ironic, but on that Thursday night we sat in bed and talked for about an hour before we fell asleep. We talked about how I needed to get up for work earlier...she was tired of me rushing in the morning. I kept explaining that I just loved the feeling of waking up next to her...how our feet and legs tangled together as we both shook off sleep. But I promised I would try to be better.
That morning I woke twenty minutes early...so early she was still in the haze of sleep. I kissed her three times...said I love you...and left as she rolled over. I know she heard, but I wish I had that twenty minutes back...I would have said so much more...
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