But Now...

Who am I now?

I used to be unique...
I used to be special...

But now I'm the guy who lost his wife...

Who cares now?

I used to have a good story...
I used to have a fascinating past...

But now I'm the guy who lost his wife....

Who knows the future now?

I used to have it all planned out...
I used to dream of who we would become...

But now I'm the guy who lost his wife...

Tonight

I'm so sad tonight...

And the words won't come out right...

My heart is beating fast...

As I think about my past...

I'm just too tired to fight...

But I can't call it a night...

Hesitation Eyes

Can you see it in my eyes?
The hesitation as you call my name...

Do you believe I'm cutting ties...
I'm just not the same...


Is it uncomfortable for you?
Does my hesitation throw off your game?

The uncertainty hurts me too...
But I'm filled with thoughts I can't tame...


Do you feel the need to fix me?
Because you see me lying lame?

Wish I had the key...
To get us past my pain...

Bedtime for Luke

"Was Mom alive when you won your Basketball Championship?"

"Luke...that was last year.  Of course she was alive.  Mom died three months ago."

"How many years was Mom alive?"

"41."

"and a half?"

"and a half."

"Mom wasn't here for my birthday."

"Mom wasn't here to discover Perler Beads."

"Mom wasn't here to discover Friv."



"Was Mom here to discover Ninjago?"

"I don't know...I can't remember."

"I can't remember either."



"Luke...are you okay?"

"I'm just thinking about Mom."

"Me too."

Raspberry Iced Tea

I drink Snapple Raspberry Iced Tea...I never did before...but there are some days that I need it...just to make it through...

Susan always wanted me to try it...I never would.

She loved the stuff...drank it constantly.

Iced Tea just never seemed like my drink...it was her...not me.

After Susan died, there was a six pack of Snapple making a racket in the back of our car for weeks. She bought it for herself and I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it.

So it rattled around as a constant reminder of Susan.

At times when I get out alone to do errands...I find myself drawn to the cemetery.  I go to try and feel her...connect with her...to be with her again...just the two of us.

It's difficult...draining...sad.

She's not there.  I can't feel her in the way I'm aching to...the magical feeling of just the two of us is lost.

But...on one trip...I discovered her...through Iced Tea.

It was so simple...I could have done it so much sooner...but who would have thought?

Just twist the top off...turn it over...look at the fact printed on the inside of the cap...the way she always did.

Susan would ask the boys, "Who wants to hear my fact?"  They loved it.

So I asked the sky the same question.  Then I read it to myself.

The only food that does not spoil is honey.

Alone...it made me laugh.  It might have been one of my first laughs.

Like usual...she was right.

Susan loved honey.  But we  constantly disagreed about the freshness of her Honey Bear. She had it forever.  She always stopped me from throwing it out...there's still some left she would insist.

I smiled a bit...cried a little... got that magical moment that only we understood...and didn't feel so alone.

I thought of her and took a small sip.

She would have kept that cap...whipped it from her pocket when I arrived home from work. Her face beaming with her I gotcha smile.

As it passed my lips, I was awe struck...I tasted her kiss.  I took another sip...and another. It was as if I had just found her again...for another brief moment.

On days I feel completely alone...or think I just can't make it...I look for a sign under the cap and take a sip.  Never gulps...just  a few slow sips that bring her close to me.  It sounds silly, but raspberry iced tea can make smile...can make me feel whole for a glancing moment.

It's not the same as being with her...but it's all I have...and on certain days...it's all that will help...

One Word

It's only been three months...

It's already been three months...

But I Always Leave

It's a small, peaceful cemetery....

I visit often...

Just to feel connected...

She's not there...

But I don't know where else to find her...

Sometimes I talk...

Sometimes I cry...

Sometimes I curse...

Sometimes I scream...

But I always leave...

That's when I feel ashamed...as I leave...

I get to go...

To live...

To try and carry on...

She doesn't...

How did this happen?

How did I let this happen?

Why couldn't I stop it?

I promised to always be there for her...

But eventually I have to leave...

Bright Eyes - "First Day of My Life"

This is a song that always reminded me of my relationship with Susan...

Her Boys...

Can't hold them as their mother could...
Her touch is so missed...

Can't make them feel like they should...
Lost is how she kissed...

Please...

To be my friend...

Please accept me where I'm at...it may not be where you believe I should be...but to be my friend you will have to meet me where I'm at.  You cannot mend me with words or gestures. Please don't misunderstand, they are needed and appreciated.  But do not expect them to lead to miraculous changes...there is no cure for losing Susan.  I'm not sick, or depressed...there is no pill or medicine that will make it all better.  I can't be diagnosed and healed.  This is a journey...something that I have to move through.  I'm grieving and it hurts...please don't expect it not to.  Please don't set limits or values on my grief...there is no way of knowing how long this will take...I'm grieving as fast as I can.

Please be conscious of my fears...regardless of how irrational they seem.  My life is no longer the same...I'm not the Sean I was three months ago.  I'm insecure.  My confidence is gone...my beliefs are shattered.  Susan was taken from me so quickly that I now understand how fragile life is...in a way you may not.  My perspective is darker.  I can't change that right now...please don't think you can.  Stand by me and be there...as I try to change it...as I discover the new me...as I try to grow.  Because I will surely stumble...and I may not always be able to get up on my own.

Please don't avoid Susan in conversations...I don't...I can't...I won't.  Talk about her...she is a part of me.  I love her...and love is the one word that I will never use in the past tense...I will always love Susan.  Her death does not erase her existence...her impact on my life. Mentioning Susan does not bring me pain...the pain is already here.  But please don't run if I cry...it's only because I miss her...not because you talked of her.  If talking about her is too much for you...then just listen when I ramble.  Conversations are not reminders of her death to me...they are reminders of my life with her.  Nothing you say will make it worse...nothing you say will make it better...just know that.

Please know that there are things I am not ready to hear.  I know I should be eating more...and drinking less.  I know I should be sleeping more...and worrying less.  I'm grieving, not stupid.  Please don't offer me permission to be myself again.  Only I can allow myself this...when I come to terms with it...not when you do.  Please don't tell me I should have fun again...or going out for a drink would be good for me... or that being back at work will help.  Don't tell me I'm strong.   Instead you can simply say...I'm sorry...or that you don't know what to say, but want me to know you care.  Invite me out, but please don't be surprised if I'm not ready.  Just be ready when I am.  Please don't abandon me.

Please understand that I am mourning not just Susan, but our life together...my life.  My future has forever been shifted.  My expectations...my plans...nullified.  Our dreams have been extinguished...lost is the passion I had for living.  This is hard for me to reconcile... It makes me feel lost, helpless, pessimistic...hopefully one day this will change.  But that day may be farther off then you expect..then you want.  You can't bring it closer by saying...it will be better someday...or eventually you will be happy...you can't possibly know that.  We built a life together that was taken away from me.  We did not choose this...so coming to terms with it will take time...please allow me this time.

Please understand I need to feel you care about me...even when I make it difficult.  Please realize I'm aware of how much I am asking of you...for you to lay down your judgements while I am allowed to keep mine.  Eventually I will trust you more...please just keep trying. Please believe in my ability to work through my grief...in my own way...in my own time.  I will not always be grieving as deeply as I am now.  But know I will never forget Susan...and never completely heal.  My hope is to find a balance...some harmony...between my life with Susan and my new reality.  To mesh her life and the love we shared with this new life I am trying to build.  This will be hard...it will take time...but please don't give up on me.   In time...I may be ready to be the friend you remember...and if you've walked away...I will truly be alone.

Waves of Grief

Don't know when it's coming...
How it's going to strike...

Maybe I Won't...

Susan made popcorn on February 22nd for the boys and a friend.

It's sitting in tupperware on our counter...it's May.  I can't throw it away.  I don't know if I will. Maybe I won't...

How long do I keep that container of old popcorn?  Why am I keeping it?  What happens if I throw it away?

Her slippers are still next to our bed...as if she's going to wake up...slip them on...and kiss me once again.

But I know she can't.  Do I move them?  Put them away? Tuck them under our bed?  I'm not sure I can...maybe I won't...

When do I stop ignoring her sink?   I could use it, but I don't...maybe I won't...

I could put away her toothbrush, her hair brush, her face scrub.  I haven't...maybe I won't...

The walls need to be patched and painted again this summer.

We talked about it...  They need to be fixed.  Will I?  Can I?  Maybe I won't...

When will I stop saying "we"..."our"..."us"?  Not sure I can...maybe I won't...

I'm so scared to change anything...but everything is forever changed...

My life, my perspective, my beliefs....my Sue...

What am I scared will happen?  What am I holding on to?

Will she come back if I keep everything the same?  Will I forget her if I move a picture frame?

Will my love be altered without her earrings on our nightstand?  Or by taking off my wedding band?

The amount of guilt I feel about her dying and me living...is all encompassing...  

We did nothing to make this happen...she did not deserve to die...

We were handed this and now...I'm scared to live...scared to grow...scared to change.

Will I?  I'm worried that maybe I won't...

Living In A Moment

Living in a moment
Where there is nothing to live for

Waiting for something to happen
But seeking much more

Thoughts cave in
Sense runs out
Peace is a wish
Filled with doubt

Wanting something to happen
But scared to my core

Hoping for a moment
When there is something to live for

Her Touch

Susan was a "toucher"...a feeler...a hanger...

She needed to be in physical contact with someone she loved at all times...
She hugged...she kissed...she grazed...she nudged...she embraced...she nuzzled...

I wasn't this way...at least not to begin with...

Susan taught me so many things, but I never realized that she also taught me to be a "toucher"...  I miss her touch.

She was my blanket...my warmth...my love...

We touched as we awoke in the morning...our feet...our legs...

Now as morning arrives, the feeling is right there...but just out of reach.  Like a word on the tip of my tongue...I strain to brush her leg as sleep wears off...but I'm always jarred awake...alone...

I touched her as I left for work...

Always on the the forhead...then the cheek as she laid in bed...then her arm as she held it out...  It was the same that Friday morning in February...  Now it's gone...that little moment that only we shared.  Every morning I'm robbed again...alone...

We touched as I arrived home...

A kiss...an embrace.  Not a simple hug, but the kind that says...I missed you so much... The one where you rub up and down each other's back...  Now I have a quick peck from the boys as they run by more worried about being outside with their friends...
They go off...I stay behind...alone...

We touched in the kitchen...

Making dinner...cleaning up...or as we cut through.  Sometimes a hug, but mostly slaps on the ass...playful and silly...and full of affection...  I walk in the kitchen now...hoping to feel her brush against me one more time.  All I feel is emptiness...alone...

We touched on the couch after the boys were off to bed...

Our bodies pressed tight to each other...with room to spare on opposite sides...  Wedged together...her hand on my ears...always the ears...I miss the ears...   It's hard to sit there now...constantly feeling her absence...alone...

We touched at night...

Goofing in the bedroom...giggling...joking...wrestling...  We fell asleep...some nights her in my arms...some nights me in hers...but always one of us held...  No arms now...just me...alone...

I feel naked...missing her touch...  My body is hyper sensitive...  Searching...looking for her hands...her arms...  But she's gone...and I'm here...alone...

I'm scared to hug anyone now...even though I desperately miss being touched.

I'm scared I won't let go...

I'm scared it won't feel right...  

I miss the contact...the love...the touch of her hand...  But most of all...I miss the love she showed with her touch...

This Shouldn't Be Happening

Simple post tonight...

Last night Luke and I held each other and cried ourselves to sleep...this shouldn't be happening...

The ER

This is  a place I want to forget, but can't...

There are images stuck in my head from that day...  

The small room they bring you to...you know, but you don't want to believe...

The doctor..."I'm so sorry...we did all we could."

The screaming...the hitting...breaking that phone...crumbling in the corner...

The walk to see her...the hallway....the stares...

Stepping into that room...seeing her...the disbelief...

She was so cold...her face...her mouth...her hair...  

Back to the small room.  Calling her parents...calling my parents...calling my brother...

Back to her room...more stares...more disbelief...

Not wanting to leave her...trying to feel connected one last time...

Running my hands over her body...looking for a spot that still holds life...

The drive home...telling the boys...the pain...the crying...

Ben staring at the cross hanging above Luke's closet...

In bed with the boys on either side...unable to sleep...laying in disbelief...

Knowing life would never be the same...because it was forever changed...

It Was Her Way...

While searching for the words to describe Susan, one came quickly to mind...the word natural.  It's a simple word, but describes her fascinating complexities so perfectly. Natural...it was just her way...

She was a natural beauty...Susan always wore make up on her eyes and straightened her hair...but those natural curls and big brown eyes did me in all on their own.  The way she looked at me or tossed her hair was effortless...just like my love.  Susan's beauty was pure and simple...no one could deny her beauty...She never thought of herself as beautiful, but I told her everyday...it was obvious...and I was in awe of her...  Her beauty radiated and people felt it.  They wanted to be around her...near her...it was her way...

Her natural beauty was inside as well.  When I think of Susan...I often think of a lyric from a Ben Harper song...she had diamonds on the inside...and she did.  She was one of the most genuine, real, and caring people I have ever met...and that was natural for her.  She would do for anyone...and she did.  I can't tell you how many times I witnessed true looks of surprise and astonishment on a person's face after Susan had done something special for them...  It was natural to her...she went above and beyond...without thinking twice...without thinking of herself first...it was her way...

Susan possessed a natural charm, wit and humor...  People gravitated to Sue because of her easy demeanor.  She made people at ease.  Everyone was Susan's friend.  She had more best friends than anyone I have ever known...and the thing about Susan is she made them all feel equally special and important.  She even hijacked friends from me.  If I introduced her to someone from work...she was friends with them within days...doing, helping, advising...  It wasn't long before my coworkers were calling and e-mailing her instead of me.  She had no clue that people held her in such high esteem...she was humble, modest and grounded...it was her way...

She laughed like no one I have ever known. Susan laughed with her eyes, her smile and her heart.  She loved a good time and always found one...even when others couldn't.  Susan made the normal...fun.  She made a regular Monday afternoon...a party.  She was the heart of so many happy times.  Susan believed in laugh, live & love as  a lifestyle, not just a cute quote to be hung in her home...it was her attitude...her being...it was her way...

Susan was a natural redhead...which made her naturally fiery and passionate.  I loved this about her...  She believed what she believed and somehow made it true...even when I had doubts.  She was passionate in life.  Susan's love was immense and intense...it enveloped me for twelve years...never in my life have I ever felt as much love.  Susan was all in from day one...she was going to love you and you better be ready for it...it was her way...

I miss my love...  She made me a better man...  Susan helped me believe in love and good...  I cherish every memory of our time together... She is so loved...by so many...   This love will last forever because of the way Susan lived...  Not many could live as she did...but it was just her way...

Keep Me In Your Heart

Flashes...

A lot of remembering today...
Working my way back...
Flashes to our past...
Wishing we had a future...

A lot of crying today...
Working my way past...
Flashes to my future...
Wishing I had her back...

Day After Guy

I should have figured out by now that I'm a "Day After Guy."

Four "day afters" have come and gone in the span of two weeks.  The day after Easter...the day after Luke's 7th Birthday...the day after Luke's Family Party and the day after Mother's Day.

Each "day after" is difficult and brutal in it's own way.

It starts on the evening of "the big day."  After the kids are in bed...after I'm alone to think about her absence...after I cry silently thinking of her laugh, her smile, her touch...  But I give myself permission to drink some of that away...because after all...it was "a big day." Not smart...not a regular habit, but an easy trap to fall into on "the big day."

I can move most mornings for my boys, but "the day after" smacks of reality more quickly...it's not the same.

The morning of "the day after" finds me awake early, but unable to rise.  I can't tell which is more stubborn...my mind or my body.  But it is an inevitable...unavoidable state of being...as I try to stop time...held under the blankets by the reality of meeting another day without Susan.

I'm not sleepy "the day after" or tired...quite the opposite.  I'm anxious and thinking and reeling...my mind swirling with the what ifs?  and whys? and if onlys?

When I wake up "the day after"...my first thought is about what she missed yesterday...what they missed without their Mom...what I've lost for the rest of my life.

These stacks of loss, pile up in my head.  I go over the possibilities many times, but eventually my mind calls a timeout...I start to drift...thinking of something else because my psyche is trying to save me.  Without warning I'm pulled back in and the cycle begins again. It's an exhausting fight against this wave of grief.  After an hour or so...or enough guilt about my boys being awake without me...I make my way downstairs.

This is where the chore of grieving "the day after" begins.  I have to function now for my boys...I made the commitment to the day...to them...by leaving my bed.

However, my dilemma comes from wanting to be the Dad they remember...the one I was three months ago...but that Dad had never been slammed by death without warning.  That Dad never had to walk past the sink yearning to see her still there...he never had to fix their favorite breakfast knowing she did it better...he never had to start his day without her kiss...

If I can make it through "the day after" breakfast without snapping or folding...the day has a chance...a manic chance of highs and lows, but a chance.

If not...it spirals quickly.  Sometimes into a obscure place where nothing is easy...a place where I am overwhelmed from beginning to end...

The one thing I can count on "the day after"...is the breakdown, the disintegration, the feelings of failure...

I never know when or why, but they always arrive "the day after."  When they come I have no choice, but to surrender.  This submission comes in different forms...it might be devastating silence or guttural screams...I can't explain which is worse, but they are certainly poles apart...although equally destructive...not knowing which will arrive is frightening...

Following this collapse...I'm in a state of shock...disbelief over my new life. Then a moment of rapid rebuilding...where I try to get it together for the boys...but it's a facade...a show.

The day moves on.  I move through "the day after" looking over my shoulder as though I can see the next wave of sorrow approaching...as if I could out run it...or hide from it...this is not possible...when it hits...it washes over my whole being...

As night falls, I just want the kids asleep...for themselves and for me...they don't need to be exposed to "the day after" me anymore.  They become mother hens...having to take on a maturity that makes me feel shameful...kissing and hugging me...apologizing for being kids. They sense it the night of "the day after"...they make bedtime easy...or perhaps they need "the day after" to end too...

After the kids are in bed...after I'm alone to think once again about her absence...after I continue my silent cry from the night before...thinking of her laugh, her smile, her touch...  I give myself permission to drink some of it away again...because after all...it was "the day after."  Not smart...not a regular habit, but it's what happens "the day after."

Sitting Alone at Night

Sitting alone at night
Hoping you're wrong
But knowing you're right

Full of things to share
Hoping to see the way
But not sure if you care

Slipping further and further down
Feeling you're lost
Wondering if answers will be found

Guessing what you will do
Hoping to see the way
But not sure of the new you

Sitting alone at night
Hoping you're wrong
But knowing you're right

Scraps of Paper

Handwriting...one of the hardest things I've dealt with in this journey.  

Never did I realize the expression, the mood, the love in a person's handwriting.  I can tell exactly how she felt when she wrote each note...what she meant that wasn't written.  How much love she had for me or how annoyed she was with me.  I can see her face as she writes, even though I wasn't there at the time.

Not sure how healthy it is, but I have surrounded myself with her writing.  If she wrote it...I kept it.  Frantically I have searched pockets, drawers, closets, books, folders, bins...just to hold another piece of her near my heart...to feel connected...

During the first days after Susan's death, I went through our kitchen.  Each pile, each drawer.  The kitchen was her headquarters...she was everywhere in that kitchen and I needed to find her so badly.  I know family and friends thought I was nuts organizing her domain...but it wasn't about being neat...it was about finding her...I was trying to bring her back...

I still try on some days to bring her back by finding new bits of paper.  Somewhere around week four, the discoveries slowed down...I think that's when reality started sinking in.  When I flipped our calendar from March to April...her daily messages were gone.  If you knew Susan, you knew that her calendar was her lifeblood.  Seeing those blank squares made me feel she had died again.

Each day I hope for a new discovery...a new chance to have her close to me...

I will hold tightly to a note I found in our car...she never gave it to me...I don't know when it was written or why.  It was in a little planner she kept in the car.  Between pages of scribbled errands and directions, I found this...

To be your friend was all I could have ever wanted.

To be your wife is all I could have ever dreamed.

I am glad you are my husband,

and I love that we are friends.

Defined...

I have this giant dictionary...Webster's New World College Dictionary, 4th edition.  My mom gave it to me in 1990 before I went to college.  My Dad gave my Mom a dictionary before she went to college too...so it's sort of a tradition for the teachers in my family....

I love my dictionary...because I can't spell.  I've always been bad at it...ask my students...ask my former teachers.  My 3rd grade teacher taught me this great trick...after you look up a word, write it on the inside cover of the dictionary.   It makes it much easier to find words you never spell correctly.

Susan hated dictionaries.  She could never understand the need...she could spell.  I kept my dictionary in our pantry...she hated that too.  It took up too much space.  I tried to explain my need to look up words, but it basically came down to the fact that I didn't want to appear to be an idiot when I wrote an e-mail.

There is something else about dictionaries though...they really aren't for spelling.  If you don't know how to spell a word, how do you look it up?  I love it when teachers tell kids to go look it up...imagine that poor kid starting with the first letter of giraffe and scanning every page in the "G's" because he didn't know what the next letter was going to be.

Dictionaries are for definitions and in some cases settling bets.  

No way does frigate mean boat.  Look it up.  Frigate: a fast, medium sized warship of the 18th and early 19th centuries.  

Dictionaries are the ultimate authority.  We all believe that they can't be wrong...I don't know why, but teachers treat dictionaries the way the Pope treats the bible.   So being a teacher, I looked my new self up...

wid•ower n. [[ME widewer, extended < wedew, widower <OE widewa, masc. of widewe, WIDOW]] a man who has outlived the woman to whom he is married at the time of her death; esp., such a man has not remarried -wid´•ower•hood´n.

Wow...that sucks.  I was expecting more.  I'm not sure I agree, but I don't really know how to define myself now and that is...what the DICTIONARY says.  

So what is a widower?  I had a much different picture 10 weeks ago.  How do I act?  How do I behave? Am I allowed to laugh?  Can I watch TV?  What if I feel like dancing?  

The bigger problem is that it isn't just dictionaries that want to define me.  People have perceptions, ideas, thoughts, guidelines and rules.  These may be conscious or unconscious, but they are there.  Stop and ask yourself what a widow or widower is and then watch this...

My other conflict with that definition is the "if such a man has not remarried" part.  So if I was actually lucky enough to find love again, I'm no longer a widower?  Webster acts like any hope for my future erases my past...erases the loss of Susan from my life by definition. I will always be a widower.  It's more than a definition, it's an experience, it's a journey, it's my reality...

Susan will always be a part of me...she will always be talked of...thought of...and loved by me.  Nothing will change that.  I love her always and forever.

This was not our choice.  It does not end our love.  I'm still here and I'm still in love with Susan.  Her death didn't kill my love.  So our relationship continues whether Webster likes it or not...

I'm starting to understand why Susan hated dictionaries...

Death Cab for cutie - I will follow you into the dark

I can't stop listening to this song....I woke up this morning with it in my head...

On The Inside

On the inside
Come inside

My voice scratches my head
Tears away at my joy
Hides away things unsaid

On the inside
Come inside

My mind races up and down
Shatters what really matters
But I can't utter a sound

On the inside
Come inside

My thoughts cave in on me
Covering who I really am
Not allowing you to see

On the inside
Come inside

Got My Crazy On

Seriously...you didn't just flip me off...you've got to be fucking kidding me...this is the one...this is the one...

The moment had been brewing for weeks...the crazy was bound to come out.  I had warned my closest friends...at some instant I was going to unleash on some unsuspecting....unconnected soul.  I fantasized about it...hoped for it...thought it would help in some way.  What a let down...

Apparently as I was driving home from my therapy session...thinking about Susan through my tears...I was moving too slow for the Left Lane Idiot behind me.  He flew the bird as he growled past me...my tears turned to rage...

Now I'm going to follow your ass...no idea what I was going to do, but I was going to think of something.  He made the left on yellow...I made it on red...rolling stop at the stop sign... I went through it...now he was thinking.

Quick left into a subdivision...me too...who knows maybe I live there too...maybe I live close to you...  Right, Left, Right...He turned out of the subdivision.  He headed back from the direction he came...now he knows...

We both made the first light...we made the second light...the third time was the charm.  I was right behind him glaring into his rear view mirror.

I can see your eyes in the mirror...yes, I'm really putting it in park...yes, my door is opening...oh shit...I just got out of my car...my skinny ass really isn't that scary. 


Susan ran through my head.  Who was I mad at?  Now I was standing in the street.  What was I really going to do?  Exactly what Susan would expect...

I got in my car.  I drove away.  I cried all the way to the cemetery.  I went and talked to her about my stupidity.  I pleaded with God.  I cursed God.  I left her.  I missed her.    

Owls Hoo!

Knock, Knock...
Who's there???
Owls...
Owls who?
That's right Daddy...Owls hoo!


Family and friends left after two weeks...I asked them to go...Luke had locked himself in the closet because he wanted everyone out of the house...I decided it was time.  I was numb...the boys were starving for routine.  Luke, Ben and I needed to find a rhythm, a new way to live.

I'm a swim or drown kind of guy...throw me in and see what happens. I know it wasn't the popular decision with some of my family members or friends...they didn't think I should try and go it alone.  I'm not going to lie..it was pretty dark when the doors closed.  Susan was the heart of our family...It was just us three now.  We needed to find our own beat...our own pace...our own pulse.  There was a lot we had to experience together...a lot we had to make sense out of together...a lot we had to discover on our own without being propped up.  Some may call that isolation...I'll call it learning, growing and living.

My boys watched me long for my best friend, my lover, my wife.  They witnessed pain that children shouldn't have to comprehend.  But this was our reality.  I can remember one of Luke's friends asking him why I was crying all the time.  "He misses my Mom"....simple answer.  The even simpler solution of his six year old friend was "But why is he sad? Everyone is happy in Heaven."  Luke's thoughtful answer, "But we're not in Heaven.  We still miss her."  As I listened to that exchange, I knew my boy was forever changed...he understood past the cute and fuzzy explanation of death that even some adults still cling to...she's in a better place...she's happy now...she's not in pain...she's with God.  Well that six year old knew one thing...she wasn't with us and we missed her and it hurt.

I broke down constantly those first weeks.  I wailed, I dropped, I pleaded, I crumbled...  For the first time, I felt outside of myself...out of control...frantic...I made noises I had never heard before.  During one of those moments...Luke told me a Knock, Knock joke about an owl...I smiled, I stood, I laughed, I moved...  My boy saved me.  He keeps that joke in his bag of tricks.  He never overuses it, but when the moment strikes...he brings it out...

Is it still funny?  Not anymore...it's him saying, "Daddy I love you.  We're going to be okay." My laugh says, "I know Lukey...thanks."

Your Mother's Home...

You could tell he believed it...if only for a moment...then he dismissed it.  I won't forget that look in his eyes...hopeful, stunned, panicked...all in a split second.  

Ben had been so patient in the morning as I mucked my way through.  Quiet, attentive, ready...that's how he is when he knows I'm being hit by Susan's death.  Plays with one eye on me...just waiting to hug, kiss or whisper "I love you." It was obvious we both needed a distraction from my mind.  So why not a trip to to the park...it might do us both some good to be distracted. 

So we went.  Only one obstacle as we approached.  A Grandfather and a little girl.  Not earth shattering 9 weeks ago, but scary and painful now.  The mind races...why does he get to be old and wrinkled...is he going to talk to us...is she going to mention her mom...is he going to ask about Ben's Mom...

So we played on our side, they on theirs...avoidance is a new tactic for me that I'm not proud of, but four year olds have a funny way of destroying even the best laid out plan.  The slide wasn't on our side.  All it took was a quick sprint and we were sharing space with Grand Pop.

He looked kind, so I knew what was next.  "Could use some sun.  Not as nice as yesterday."  I muttered back a reply and felt bad for thinking of this nice old man as some kind of land mine.  He meant no harm.  So we played and went on with our distraction. Then it went off...

Grandpa looked across the field and said, "You have to go...your Mother's home."  The little girl knew he was talking to her.  I knew.  Ben didn't.  For that fraction of a moment he thought Susan was back.  Standing on the top the playground he turned his head in the direction of home.  The wind blowing his hair as he looked for Sue.  And then he knew...and he scampered off...and my heart broke again for him...for her... 

I know what he felt...I have been touched by it too.  As I drive up to our house and see her car...for a moment...I feel it.  My neighbor stands two yards down with glasses on and her hair in a pony tail...and I almost believe it.  I wake up in the morning and feel one of the boys feet on my leg...and I hope for it.  But all these moments end quick...and sting...and taste of our new reality.

I'm so sorry this happened Benny...it's something I can't protect you from...I can't be the "Peanut Allergy Parent" and ban any mentions of "Moms" within 100 yards of you.  We are going to face this forever and always...I'm so sorry...nothing hurts more than seeing you and Luke understand the reality of this...I love you...

What Are They Thinking?

Do you stare when you walk by my house or is your head down?  This is what I face everyday.  The pity eyes or no eyes at all.  I know...you can't win, but neither can I. Everything is awkward now...I hate it...and so do you.  Sorry...we have to get past it.  The only solution is time.  Which sucks because there is nothing we can do, but wait.  There is no date we can circle on a calendar.  Hopefully you won't abandon me before the time comes.

Today I ate lunch with Luke at school for his birthday.  A lunch mom kept looking at me...three months ago that look would have made me think...."hmm, she thinks I'm kind of cute"...you know the look...doesn't want to make eye contact...keeps looking down, but constantly glances up.  Now it's totally different...I know what she was thinking..."there he is...the man that lost his wife...poor man."  So that sucks...I went from being cute to being pitied.

When I pick up my preschooler on Fridays, we have to go into the room.  Me and the Moms. They separate from me like oil and vinegar.  It's almost like they think they are going to catch "death" from me.  They pity me too.  I've gone from being a confident adult to a pitiful widower.  How do I react to that?  People want to know how to help me...remember that I'm still me.

If you see me soon, know I'm hurting...know that no words can change that...know that I might cry at any moment...know that I want to talk about Susan.  She is part of me forever, that won't ever change...I don't want it to change.  Just be my friend...

What He Feels?

So that's the big question...it has become the elephant in the room.  How does he feel?  There aren't words...I have attempted to express it through music...not sure anyone understands that.  Words alone can't grab the feeling...the words need a rhythm, a beat, a tone, a mood...my feelings are more compelling than words alone right now...I believe this is because my love for Susan was so powerful as well.


I read a book recently on Grief...it equates grieving to loving...in essence grief is now my expression of love for Susan.  When I want to reach out and hold her...my sorrow is as strong at that moment as my yearning to touch her.  My love for her is so deep and multifaceted, and so is my pain.  My love for Susan brought me extreme joy and secondary pleasures, now I'm filled with extreme pain and secondary losses.


What is a secondary loss?  Recently I quoted a song lyric to a friend that I felt represented how I was feeling.  


My life has been extraordinary
Blessed and cursed and won
Time heals but I'm forever broken

My friend said I was still blessed...she said think of the blessings in your life at this moment...your kids, your friends, a job you love.  This is all true, but there are secondary losses there...because of Susan's death all these blessings are compromised.  Everything that brought me joy in my life was connected with Susan.  It's amazing how much she is interwoven into the threads of my being.  My boys still bring me joy, but their smiles have changed...their laugh is a little weaker...their eyes a little deeper.  My friends and family surround me, but  our relationships feel strained...all they want is to help me, but I'm helpless...there is nothing they can do to ease this pain.  How do you explain to someone that there is nothing they can do?  

I guess it comes full circle to the question everyone has...How does he feel?

Not in his mind

Don't know what he feels

Good...

Bad...

Right...

Wrong...

Safe...

Scared...

Think I understand

But know I don't

Wish I could

At the same time

Glad I can't

~ Poem I wrote for a friend years ago...now it applies to me...

  

The Face Across

We were talking
About whatever we thought the other could see
Stopping and thinking
Of just the right words

We were smiling
About feeling good
Guessing and hoping
The face across was feeling the same

We were sharing
Our dreams, fears and desires
Wanting and needing
The truth to be said

We were giving
Our insides without a second doubt
Knowing and loving
The face across was a friend


~ Poem I wrote about Susan when we first become a couple.

Our Love Story

Susan,
I love Our Love Story.  Before I met you, I always wondered when and where I would find you.  My life with you does seem like the perfect story to me.  I feel blessed and lucky to have you in my life.  It feels unreal to have such a happy home and loving family.


I Love You,
Sean


Those are the words I wrote in the Anniversary card I gave my wife for our 8th Anniversary on February 8th, 2011.  She died suddenly on February 25th.  I have been battling with why Our Love Story ended...or did it end?  I still love her as much as I ever did and I can't imagine that changing.


The beginning starts like most good love stories do...two friends that accidentally become soul mates.  Susan was 29 and I was a much younger 26, not by age, but maturity.  We were introduced by our mutual friend "Downtown" Jenny.   Susan was a friend of Jen's from High School...I was Jen's College friend.  We became Jen's last two single friends...for better or worse, Jen paired us off.


We both were coming out of bad times in our twenties and we were truly just friends on the surface for months...although we both knew deep down "the face across" was more.  There was no first date, no asking out.  One night we were talking and we truly fell asleep in my apartment.  I woke up the next morning and her nose was pressed into my back.  I rolled over and said, "I guess you're my girlfriend now."


Our relationship from the start was like a story book.  We got married after dating for three years, we bought a house, we started a family, we added to the family, we lived happily ever after...until that Friday night.


Just a normal Friday.  Kissed her goodbye at 6:30 in the morning.  First on the forehead, then she stuck out her arm and I kissed it so she could roll over and go back to sleep.  A little ritual we had that went unspoken.


We never spoke again...I heard her voice at 5:37 pm.  She called my cell phone as I was leaving work.  She was at our son's pizza party for his basketball team.  I was one of the coaches, but couldn't make the party because of work.  She said, "Here he is..."  The 7 year old boys yelled, "Thanks Coach Sean."  Another coach grabbed the phone and told me thanks.


When my phone rang again about an hour later, her name popped up...I answered...a voice asked, "Is this the husband of this cell phone user?  Your wife is having a medical emergency."


She died before I could get to her.  A blood clot straight to her heart while she was shopping with my boys for summer sandals.  She was gone in minutes, if not seconds as my boys watched.  Susan was the example of health.  She ate well, exercised and had qualified this past October for her 2nd Boston Marathon.  But she was gone.


Over the last nine weeks I have tried to stumble my way through this new life that was thrown on my family.  But my biggest struggle is that her death hasn't changed my love.  I'm here still...in love still...alone now.


I added to that anniversary card the only words that I could think described Our Love Story now. 


a canyon is formed from a trickle of water that turns into a thriving river...it flows across the rock with power and grace...and over time the river shapes the canyon making it beautiful and powerful...eventually nature takes that river and the canyon looks and feels incredibly empty, but it was still created by the presence of that exquisite river...every part of it was touched by those surging waters...every part of that canyon holds the memory of those waters in it's walls...I feel incredibly empty, but Susan's love flowed over me and shaped me...and that will never change...her grace and beauty was absorbed into my very soul...I am now and forever transformed by her love...Susan Marie...you made me the man that I could be...your love was kind and gentle and beautiful like a subtle river that seems to continue forever...flows endlessly and will never stop...