I Remember

My memories are so full.

I remember a shy, but goofy girl who I met by coincidence.  She had this mischievous smirk and bangs that gave her face a curious kid like look.  She tried impressing me with a silly bar trick that involved a pile of salt and an empty salt shaker. She lied to me about loving to stay up late and enjoying a drink.  Only after I fell for her did I find out she had trouble staying up past eight.

I remember the power she had over me almost instantly...the ability to make me smile bigger than I ever had and feel love like I'd never known.

I remember those nights when we became friends long before we became lovers.  Nights spent talking on the phone, or sitting in the front room of Gilson Court.  Nights where I didn't want to hang up or wished I didn't have to leave her side.  Nights when we got to know each other in ways that few others do.

I remember waking up to her nose pressed into my back...and knowing that my life would forever be changed.

I remember the beginnings of our life together.  Picking that spot of dirt that would grow into a home filled with love.  Then sneaking into our unfinished house late at night because we couldn't wait to get our life started. Walking through those wooden beams and looking at the stars above while we talked about what those framed rooms would one day hold.  Dreaming about a future that was so beautifully about to unfold.

I remember standing at the front of a room in a mansion...nervous and excited because the day had finally come.  Watching her round the corner and seeing my bride for that very first time.  Crying in joy as she walked toward me down the aisle...so glad she would always be mine.

I remember standing in our room as she first told me about Luke.  Beaming already as she became a Mom for the very first time.

I remember that May day when we were surprised by his early arrival.  Being told by our doctor that it seemed like a great day to get parenthood started.  Sitting in the parking lot together...unable to speak because our dreams were coming true.  Being so close and connected on that May night we became a family.  Just huddling us three...as if no one else existed.

I remember sharing in each of Luke's firsts and the happiness they brought to her face. Watching her ease into the role she was born for...loving him as only she could.

I remember the joy in her eyes that August afternoon as she held her sweet Benny.  The way she loved him and cuddled him.  The special look she had just for him...telling me she finally felt complete.

I remember the way she made both her boys feel like the center of her universe.  Days spent playing and learning...laughing and teaching...being a mother like many had never seen.

I remember kitchen hugs...goodbye and hello kisses...jokes and laughter...good times and bad...and whispers so sweet...but most of all I remember how lucky I was to have her in my life.

I wish that February night never would have happened, but as I've learned you can't always control your story.  And even if I somehow knew in advance how our story would end...and the pain I would eventually have to endure...I would do it all again.  I wouldn't give up a day we had together to escape this sorrow...because a life without her would have been far worse than losing her.

Her love, her heart and her life..I will forever remember...and use as guide for the rest of mine.

Last Night

Tonight was our last night...

My Reminders

Last week I opened up Luke's backpack frantically looking for his homework.  

The nightly routine had caught up with me...the mad rush to get it all done before bedtime was in full swing...and my nerves were melting down.

Alongside my raised voice...and under his lunchbox...and between his library books...I found something unexpected...something that made my frenzied pace freeze.  

It wasn't the paper I was looking for...but it was something I had been searching for lately...a reminder.  

A reminder of what Susan gave me...the gift of two amazing boys...so full of love...and laughter...and their mother.

What happened to Susan is still incomprehensible at times...and what we live through each day is often extraordinarily difficult.

But I do have those two incredible reminders.

And on certain days...even if I'm frustrated...angry...desperate...or lonely...my boys are just enough...to bring that smile back to my face.

Days

So it's here...February.

For almost a year...this month has held me hostage.  The anticipation of it's arrival and the uncertainty of what it will bring have been circled in my mind like a date on a calendar.  So many days of significance will come and go in the next twenty-nine.

Today I can't stop thinking about those two February days when we were hit by a snowstorm.  Days off from work and free of commitment...just a family of four cuddled up in our home.  Days like those are what make life worth living...laughs and love...kisses and hugs.

In a week's time...I will be arriving at what should be our 9th anniversary.  A day that always reminded me of how lucky I was to find her love.

Within two weeks...I will face Valentine's Day.  Which should be a day for proclaiming our love...but will now always be connected with our first trip to the Emergency Room.  A day where we stayed up all night...her hooked up to sensors and machines...me scared out of my mind, but trying hard not to show it.

That day eventually bled into the fifteenth...and we were released...happy and content...assured and guaranteed of many more days to come.

But the next ten days will forever be measured in my mind.  They each hold a memory...a special way she said goodbye...to me...then Luke...and finally Ben.  It was almost like she knew...and she brought us each into her...for a final farewell.

And then it arrives...the day I said my last "I love you."  A kiss on the forehead...twice on the arm...and out the door I went.  Never again to see her smile...hear her laugh...or feel her love.

No Choice

I turned an unexpected corner yesterday.  Mostly because I had no choice...but maybe that's how this grief will eventually play itself out.  Perhaps as time moves...moments will ultimately arrive where life gives me no options...nowhere to hide.  And I will gradually have to confront the parts of my sorrow I quietly hide.

Yesterday's moment arrived in the form of a good old fashioned childhood injury.  As I watched Luke score the first basket of his park district game...my heart surged with pride. A smile spread across my face as the quarter continued and it became apparent my son was the most talented player on the floor.  But those same parental instincts switched gears quickly as Luke ran to me...holding his mouth...with blood dripping through his fingers.

I went from Proud Dad to Protective Father...without a thought.  We jumped into the car as quickly as my demeanor had changed.  I knew we were headed for the ER...and that I should be scared....not about Luke's injury...but about confronting one of my secret anxieties from the past eleven months.

Entering a hospital...specifically an Emergency Room...has been a major fear for me since last February.  Facing the starkness of an ER with it's cold white tiles and shining steel. Being guided down halls that intermittently shine fluorescent.  Seeing the pulsing of the glowing red lights.  Hearing the constant humming of unfamiliar machines.  Feeling the uncertainty and speed of life changing words.

For almost a year I have been haunted by those two February emergency room visits. Leaving once together...leaving once alone.  Every moment of each day are etched into my memory.  Every question about those days still silently remain.  However, I found the constant trepidation of walking back into an ER to be a heavy weight all it's own.  How would I react?  Would I relive the pain? Would I spiral back to those February days?

The adrenaline of being a parent is an amazing thing.  We walked in...the lights flickered...the machines hummed...and the room was stark.  But all that filled my mind...was my little boy.  The past did not impact me in that moment...I was living in the present.  I was reacting to what I could control...instead of unraveling about what had happened eleven months before.

Now I know that nothing will ever be as bad as that last February day.  And no hidden fear will bring back the level of pain I felt that day.  Maybe that's progress...perhaps in time I will conquer all my silent fears...the ones I keep hidden...the irrational feelings that are obstacles to living in the present.  I hope life gives me no other choice.

Yesterdays, Tomorrows and Todays

I've been living in yesterdays and tomorrows.


Thinking of how my life used to be...

And hoping for what my life will be...


When will I start living in todays?

Ebb and Flow

The ebb and flow of life after death…is exhausting.

The ache is elongated…sporadic…and then drawn-out again.


There is no cadence to life.

Living is always a step off beat...and doesn't fall into place for very long.


Just as the sun rises…darkness begins to cast it's shadow.

As one shade of grief is conquered…another arrives.

This appears to be a journey with no ending…no destination...no arrival.

Unfortunately…the path is not steady.


So the question becomes...

Can you move forward with the rise and fall of the road?

Falling

Every so often...I feel like I'm falling.

It's similar to the sensation you have in deep sleep...when you unexpectedly take a misstep. Perhaps you were dreaming of some fantastic or even ordinary event...and everything was going smoothly.  But suddenly you foot lunges out...and drops.  And you're left reaching for a footing that is no longer there.

This sensation has begun happening to me lately.  But I'm awake...and it's not my foot that misses a step.  It's my heart that loses ground...and begins to plummet.

I could be making dinner and all is going well.  Then as I reach to open the refrigerator...my eyes suddenly meet hers in a picture hanging on the door.  And there it is...my unexpected misstep...my heart collapses.

All at once...I am abruptly reminded of Susan's death...not that I could ever forget.  But as time has passed...I have been forced to engage in life...because I am still here...and because my boys need me.  So I have been moving...finishing what needs to be done...and unwillingly playing the hand I have been dealt.

So now instead of living with her death draped over my every thought...I'm simply shot periodically in the chest by it.  Knocked off my feet...and forced to try and stand again after some unsuspecting item or experience reminds me of her absence.

I wonder when this sensation will stop...or if it will?

It's a strange condition

It's Time

It's time to change again...

It's time to grow again...

It's time to drop the facade again...

It's time to go it alone again...


There is no time to rest your mind...

     If you're going to find yourself again...


It's time to look inside again...

It's time to get in touch again...

It's time to discover who you are again...

It's time to find strength again...


There is no time to breathe a sigh of relief...

     If you are going to evolve again...


It's time to learn from the past again...

It's time to apply your knowledge again...

It's time to love yourself again...

It's time to emerge better again...

Forever Changed

I am forever changed by Susan's death...

But also by Susan's life...


In the end it is up to me...


I must make peace with where these two paths meet...

And decide how I will let them impact my life...


My choices and reactions...

Will surely define my future...


So now it is left for me to decide...


In what manner I will live my life...

And how I choose to meet each day...

And Now?

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?

Whispers

I miss her whispering softly...

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.

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.  

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.

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.  

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.

'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.