We got through Christmas and Bill's birthday with little, to no, scars. We also took a trip up to the central coast to see family from both of our sides. It was a great time, and Tyler LOVED playing with his cousins. It's now New Year's Eve and as 2010 approaches I can't help but admit that I am happy to bid farewell to 2009. It was rough year, for many, and I desperately need a fresh start.
I got a few different e-mails over the past few days asking/reminding me that last last year I did a list of idiosyncrasies in lieu of a New Year's resolution. Really, it was a list of weird things that I have/do/think. I started thinking about it, and how hard could it be to come with another list? Goodness knows I have plenty of material. ALL things on last year's list still hold true... very true.
To see last years, click here.
I need to add the same disclaimer that I am NOT committed enough to do anything about them.
I can (still) eat cereal for every meal... Supposebly is NOT a word... I hate working out... I have a group of online girlfriends that I absolutely LOVE... I easily sleep with the TV on... I love new car smell... I am a horrible dieter... I am now a self-diagnosed hypochondriac... I don't understand why they even make Oreos that are not double-stuffed... I am addicted to House Hunters... You could put Ranch dressing on dirt and I'd probably eat it... I can draw an awesome elephant, but my skills end there... I am not a Rachael Ray fan... I hate it when people say "expresso" when there is NO X in espresso... I have a serious magazine habit... It is not Valentime's Day... I couldn't live without my iPhone... I hate Chutes and Ladders... Malls make me happy... I want to go back to law school, but don't think I want to be a lawyer... I am an over-analyzer... I had doubts that I would survive 2009... I DID survive 2009...
I have so many things for which to be thankful this year. In the midst of holiday bustle, things can often get blurry and lost. Although we have many blessings, it would be an understatement to say this was a tough year. I'd also be lying to say I wasn't ready to begin a new one.
I would like to say a thank you to our friends and family...
I cannot begin to tell you how indebted I still am for all of your heartfelt warm wishes, e-mails, phone calls, messages, cards... the list goes on and on. I appreciate the fact that during the holidays many of you have extended invitations and kept us busy and a part of the Christmas bustle... especially since it would have been easy for me to hibernate this year. Thank you to those who have chosen to walk this path with me without an ounce of hesitation. I don't know what I would do without close friends who keep track of me and make sure I am a member of the real world (and not curled up in the fetal position). Your incredible kindness never goes unnoticed, and I will truly be forever grateful.
Once a widow, always a widow?? Is it like being an alcoholic? Once you are identified as one, the label sticks whether you are actively drinking or not. Or maybe a better example would be the president. Once you lead this country you are always addressed as "Mr. President" or "President So-and-So", for example. So if a widow ever remarries, is that person still considered a widow? I'm not sure of the answer to this, but I can't imagine that a permanent hole so deep could ever be fully mended. That's not to say that I don't believe a widow could remarry and fully love her new husband, but I can't imagine that person would ever actually stop loving the first, or original spouse. How does a remarried widow refer to her first husband? You can't say "ex-husband" because that is clearly not the case, but you don't necessarily want to start numbering husbands either. Oh to be a fly on the wall in my little head...
Maybe it's similar to having more than one child... you love the first one with your entire heart and soul, then the second, third, fourth, one comes along and the love (I am told) remains as strong. (At least that's what my mom always told my older brother and me.) There should be enough love to go around, I suppose, but these questions flood my mind and when I checked the widow rulebook, I couldn't find the answers.
I'm going to have faith in the fact that these questions will someday be answered, I don't need any answers right now, and the answers may be different for everyone who has lost a spouse. Widowhood is definitely not one size fits all...
I attended a beautiful Christmas women's event tonight with incredible music (including an amazing singer/friend) and an inspirational speaker. One of our tasks was to say what person (dead or alive) with whom we would like to spend 15 minutes. My answer was easy... Bill.
My head instantly knew that he was my answer, however, as the evening ensued I decided I wanted a redo. I changed my mind. My head's answer forgot to sync with my heart's answer. As I sat and listened to the night's speaker, many thoughts tumbled through my head. The main one was that I was wrong, I would not want an additional 15 minutes with him. That's not enough. I recently read another widow's blog post about getting one more day and it got me thinking. I have come so far in the grieving process that 15 additional minutes with him would surely send me back to square one in my grief. A place I don't particularly care to revisit.
Also, would those 15 minutes mean that he would suffer for additional time? If that is the case, then I could never ask that of him. Why in the world would I want him to endure MORE pain, even if it was just 15 minutes? Although it is very tempting, I could never be that selfish. Is it possible that I love him so much that I wouldn't (couldn't) want another 15 minutes with him?
So, to those of you with whom I spent the evening tonight, I want a do-over. I changed my mind... the next person on my mental list is Abraham Lincoln. Yes, I pick Abe.
Although I don't usually comment on comments... I have to say that the person (Anonymous) who stated that I left out color-coordinated gift wrap was spot on!! I kicked myself for omitting that very important detail since it is something for which I am extremely grateful. I don't know who the poster was, but it was clearly someone who knows me VERY well.
My favorite part of Christmas is the gift wrap. I start shopping in October (when it starts showing up in online stores) and pour over patterns and ribbons and paper. In my dream world, I would have a gift wrap room with rolls of paper and ribbons affixed to special built-in wall units... Large tables would make wrapping even the bulkiest gift a cinch... Tape dispensers would be stationary and scissors would be sharp enough to glide through the paper effortlessly... I have the room designed perfectly in my head.
I always investigate the thickness to determine adequate quality, which can make this obsession get a little pricey. It is a rule that the patterns are not just matching, but actually come from the same company with intentions of balance and coordinating designs. I have had this year's wrapping paper for weeks and weeks. Sound insanely crazy?? Welcome to my world!
I would love to have a business and just work in December wrapping gifts. I know I could go to Macy's and pick up a part-time gig, but that's not remotely close to feeding my obsession. I like to shop and wrap early so I can enjoy the paper under the tree for more than a few days. I could go on and on (even more) about my love for Christmas and slightly major obsession for gift wrap, but I will stop here and maintain the minuscule piece of sanity I claim to have left.
I am thankful for so many things that I honestly don't know where to begin.
I am thankful for...
Tyler... our incredible family... great friends... Starbucks... health... purses... my home... new car smell... Tyler... good jeans... Bill's legacy... diet coke... photos... my class... Tyler... time... red wine... tennis shoes... Christmas decorations... homemade cookies... love... Tyler... dental floss on a stick... opportunities... a warm bed... Target... challenges... my career... Tyler... ultra fine Sharpies... support... a super soft sweatshirt... motivation... pre-sliced apples in small bags... TiVO... enthusiasm... and Tyler.
I am so very grateful for the many blessings in my life. Thank you all for still checking on us!
We had a very busy weekend, so I am definitely ready for a 4-day Thanksgiving break. We went from a birthday party to visiting friends and family, and I even bought a new car somewhere in the mix. It was an exciting weekend.
I'd like to think I have always been a "half full" sort person. There has to be some sort of good in every situation... even at rock bottom. Today at my sister-in-law's house I tried to come up with things are not terrible because of this situation. I promised myself I wouldn't focus on anything negative, so I want to preface my list with the fact if i could change any of this, I would... but I obviously can't, so I might as well try to find some good along the way. If something made my "list" then it is safe to say that Bill thought the opposite.
* Decisions are easier when making them alone. I don't have to consult anyone (or hear another person's advice/complaint) on how to discipline, how to do laundry, or where to hang a new picture.
* I don't have to keep a new pair of shoes in my trunk and wait to sneak them in. Although, I still kind of do this, so I guess I am just keeping my skills polished.
* I actually like having the bed to myself (when Tyler is not trying to climb in). I know this seems odd, but it's the truth.
* I don't have to worry about someone else using the ATM card and not telling me about the withdraw... then worry that there will be enough to cover everything and do the mad dash to get online and transfer money.
* I now understand the true meaning of "stress"... I was mistaken when I said that finishing report cards was stressful. Not... even... close...
* I am allowed to put steak knives in the dishwasher.
* I can watch "Friends" reruns every night and fall asleep with the TV on.
* I can wash my whites separately and avoid the muted gray color on everything.
I am reserving the right to add to this list as needed. I can only hope that I will come up with a few more entries.
Happy Thanksgiving!
It has been a crazy week in our household, although that seems to be the norm these days. I gave two trainings at the district office which enables me to see different teachers from a variety of schools. I ran into a teacher I met in my early years at Golden. We happened to pull up and get out of our cars at the same time, so we walked in together. I would guess our walk was all of about 2 minutes. I cannot explain how refreshing it was to have someone come right out and say, "I'm so sorry to hear about your husband... How are you?" She didn't feel the need to do the "head-tilt"* and didn't dance around the elephant in the room. She simply came out and asked... I didn't realize how much I would appreciate such a small gesture, but it was refreshing!
* see previous posts for definition of "head-tilt".
We found out this week that an aide with whom we work lost her husband in August to a massive heart attack. She is just now admitting this to people, which tells me she is just now seeing the fog lift enough to say the words that he is gone. She has 4 kids, a part-time job, and her husband had barely enough life insurance to cover his funeral and pay his debt. My heart aches for her and her children. If I ever needed a sign that I was meant to change schools, this is it. Things work out in mysterious ways, and I hope I can be some sort of help in her unfortunate situation.
I feel validated that Tyler and I are healthy in our healing and can openly talk about "our Dad". The fact that he feels free to ask questions, draw pictures, and look at photos is so precious in the healing process. I can only hope that someday my fellow staff member can say the same.
There are many levels of grief. I could almost hold a checklist and write the date that certain feelings were experienced. The anger, the guilt, the depression, the denial... they all have spent time with me. The last feeling I have has lingered for awhile now...
The acceptance.
Accepting that he is gone... accepting that he is not coming back... accepting that I am single... accepting that I am a different person... accepting that motherhood can (and will) be done alone. I have accepted our new life and all that is tangled in it. Sometimes I wonder if I am ready to fully accept things, but in reality, I do not have a choice IF I am going to or not; I must continue to live my life.
Does acceptance mean I have forgotten, or it doesn't hurt? Far from it. Those two factors do not replace each other. That is the "funny" thing about grief. There are no rules or map to follow, you must navigate it yourself and personally come to terms with acceptance. To quote Merriam-Webster, acceptance is,
to regard as proper, normal, or inevitable; to recognize as true: believeI don't feel I am "actively mourning" anymore, but I know the hole will always be there... in my life and in my heart. I have accepted this, and I know that it has made me a stronger person (how could it not?).
When I sat down to write this post, I had a totally different angle worked out in my head. Interesting how things can take a turn, and the result is far from what was anticipated. I guess life is funny like that...
I have a love/hate relationship with preschool drop off. I love it when I'm NOT working, and not so much when I have to rush off to school. I do like feeling more connected to his school, but I need to acknowledge that I have been extremely spoiled the past 4 years... *Disclaimer - I know there are single working moms out there with multiple children and full full-time jobs who complete far more than I do on a daily basis... and yet never miss a soccer practice. I am not comparing myself to those warriors. :)*
I have never had to take Tyler anywhere in the morning for "drop off". In fact, I was even able to get ready in the morning while he slept. My schedule was rarely interrupted. When I signed on to taking him twice a week, I didn't realize the learning curve would be so large. (For me, not him.) We have had some really good mornings and a few stressful ones. The first day I woke Tyler up too late. In fact, I was literally trying to get him dressed while he was still in bed trying to squeeze a few more minutes of slumber. I'd like to say we got his teeth brushed, but I'm honestly not sure. I do know, however, that I bribed him that morning with 5 mini-marshmallows. We also stopped at Starbucks (not out of the normal), where he requested a vanilla scone (which is frosted). I was actually happy he wanted a scone since he really doesn't eat in the morning. A quick tally... he had 5 marshmallows and a frosted scone. We got to school and I went around the car to open his door and he was standing over the center console taking a huge swig of my iced, 4 shot, nonfat, white chocolate mocha. New tally... 5 marshmallows, a frosted scone, and a huge swig of espresso. Needless to say, I didn't divulge any info to his teachers and bolted out the door before they could stop me. Mother of year?? Not so much...
Meeting new people is interesting when you feel like you are hoarding a gigantic secret... only it's not really a secret... but I am incredibly tired of the tilted head-nod. The look I get when I tell people my "story" is one of which I am not fond. If you just meet me, one would never guess what I endured over the past year. I am able to hold an intelligent conversation without revealing my unique circumstance of which my new friend is unaware. Depending on the situation, I am actually quite talented at dodging questions that might lead to the big reveal. I can even steer a conversation to safer grounds by rerouting a person's questions. I don't avoid the awkwardness for me, but for them. It has turned into a little mental game for me... for lack of better term.
I don't think I look like the typical widow, however she might appear. I'm not sure the stereotype of one, but for some reason my visual is of a woman over the age of eighty. Not much about my external features lead people to assume the reality of my marital status. I actually kind of feel sorry for those who find out the truth after asking what seems to be a very innocent question. Then the tables turn, and they begin the tilted head-nod based on my revealing answer. For awhile I thought I was (maybe) imagining this infamous tilt, but after a friend told me, "I saw the head-nod!" I know I am not crazy... in this aspect. :)I am to the point that I can share my story honestly and openly, without fearing the awkwardness that inevitably ensues. I have learned such an incredible life lesson. One that has changed me forever. I have only one person to thank for opening my eyes to what life truly is about.
I find I really miss blogging about our lives. I don't have much to put into words, but somehow I manage to type once my fingers hit the keyboard. Having "nothing" to say always turns into a rant or rave of some sort... Tyler is spending the night with Grandma and Papa and nothing is better than seeing your 4-year-old skip off to Grandma's car and happily wave good-bye. He is one lucky boy! The hardest thing about single parenting is the "on" factor. You are ON all the time. Never getting a break starts to wear on a person. I have a little shadow next to me, on me, or staring at me every waking minute (that I am not working). I often joke that he would crawl back inside of me if given the opportunity, since he always wants to be soft and cozy. Granted, I wouldn't change it for anything... but a relief pitcher every so often is much appreciated. Having an adult dinner and not doing to the bedtime routine is a gift in itself. I added two blogs that I read daily to the right side of the page. They are about children who actually live in the LA and Orange County areas. If you get a moment, please take a look. I know I have mentioned Carter's blog before, and some of you have found it from the blogs I watch, but just in case you haven't, the link is there. Maddie's blog is equally as moving, and I hope you will take the time to check them out.
These are from a popular e-mail going around. I just thought they were so appropriate for real life, so I posted them. I DID NOT WRITE THIS! Although I'd love to take credit... I only provided the comments on this one. I couldn't just post it as is, I had to add my $.02 (in red).Random Thoughts of the Day:I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option. So true!
Nothing stinks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. I hate it when this happens!
Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk. This happens to me ALL the time... only coming out of a store in the mall.I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger. I also would like to take back NOT napping when Tyler was a baby and slept all the time.The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me, and consequently I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again. Hilarious!Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Atari and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no Internet or message board or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft. I still do this!There is a great need for a sarcasm font. Duh!Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what in the world was going on the first time around. I never really understood what Dirty Dancing was fully about. How the heck are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?...Without rolling it up?I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in. I have the bruises to prove it.I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die. Mine would be filled with shoe websites.The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text. I hate to admit to this one.Was learning cursive really necessary? It is kind of obsolete, but kids are silent when doing learning it. Go figure.I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger. Who doesn't?Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart," all I hear is, "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart." Hehe, kind of true! Too bad I am kind of the reverse. How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said? This reminds of parking lot duty after school as parents tell you who they are picking up and you have no clue what they said... I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers! Even better is when a speeding demon flies down the freeway swerving in and out, and then you see them up ahead getting a speeding ticket.Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in 'examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies." I have said, "K, as in... cart..." Again, I am book smart, not "street" smart.
While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart. :)Map Quest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood. I have thought this many times. It's a waste of printer ink!Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died. Very true!I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water. I suppose if you had a tank less water heater, you could do it this way.I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired. Me too!!Bad decisions make good stories. Unfortunately, yes.
Is it just me or do high school girls wear less and less clothing every year? Yes, again!
Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so nervous? I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem.... I really felt this after I got married and changed my last name. Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection. Beta, anyone?There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to fall after leaning back in your chair a little too far. The moment before hitting the ground is the longest second of your life!I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of a Word document and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page project to which I swear I did not make any changes. This sets me into a panic!While watching the Olympics, I find myself cheering equally for China and USA. No, I am not of Chinese descent, but I am fairly certain that when Chinese athletes don’t win, they are executed. At least the girls are...I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello?), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What did you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away? LOLI hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. It's a waste of good make-up. I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my library. Why is this??Why is a school zone 20 mph? That seems like the optimal cruising speed for pedophiles... Good point on this one.Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is. Goes for the date, too.It should probably be called Unplanned Parenthood. So true!I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call. Doesn't everyone do this?Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what do to with it. Me neither.Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket and pinning the tail on the donkey - but everyone can find and push the snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time... This describes me perfectly.It really angers me off when I want to read a story on CNN.com and the link takes me to a video instead of text. I know it has the little video icon, but you can't expect me to pay attention all the time.I wonder if cops ever get mad at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit. I know it bugs me when others drive under the speed limit when a cop is around.I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lite than with Kay. I don't care who you are... This is funny...
We are rather boring these days, and I must confess that I LOVE every minute of the boredom! School has started and we are now in the thick of things. I am really enjoying my new school and am so grateful the opportunity presented itself for me to move. A fresh start was just what the proverbial doctor ordered. Tyler loves his new class (same school) and we both could not be happier. I mean that sincerely, we are truly deeply content living our simple little life. Every once and awhile Tyler throws a huge tantrum (in public, of course) just to keep me on my toes. They serve as a "friendly" reminder that he is, in fact, four. Tyler will be starting soccer sometime soon. I figured it has been awhile since he has picked me teeny-tiny flowers like those found on a field. I keep telling him we could go pick flowers for free, instead of signing up for soccer, which is clearly not free. He is not buying into it... so off to soccer we will go. I am also looking for a golfing class/lesson for him. No offense to all the soccer players out there, but it is not a sport where he will make millions (leading to my retirement)... golf, on the other hand, can be played into his "senior" years. I'd be thrilled to drive a new Buick as I wear Nike, telling time on my Tag Heuer watch, while drinking Gatorade, talking on my AT&T phone, and shaving with a Gillette razor. I'd even be willing to change Tyler's name to some strong jungle animal. I hear Tiger is taken...
I know it's a lot of change, but I am craving an an overhaul... in so many ways. I want to keep the blog, it still holds such a special place in my heart. Bill never wanted it to end up as a memorial, and I am afraid that is how I saw it. I was feeling like my updates needed to be Bill/grief based and I was finding I didn't have much to report. By starting fresh I am simply keeping a blog of our family and the day-to-day trials of our new life.
Stay tuned...
I am officially back to work, so summer has come to an end. I have enjoyed being back and really like my new school. Today was the "turning point" and I feel like I will actually be ready for Tuesday when the kiddos come. This summer has been a true blessing. I am convinced that Bill waited until school was out so I wouldn't worry about missing work... yet he also planned it so I could have a summer to get things in order. He was always very thoughtful and only wanted me to be happy.Lately, I have been struggling with finding the words to describe how I feel... Not great, but not necessarily bad, either. I couldn't describe the exact the feeling (until now), but I just checked my work e-mail and a friend sent me a message and used the term "caregiver hangover"... THAT'S IT! I have a severe caregiver hangover. It's that little sick feeling that lingers the day after a fun-filled evening. It's the slight headache that is dull, but always there. It's being able to function, but not yet feeling 100%. I have a caregiver hangover that Advil and Denny's greasy food at 2am can't cure. ;) Thanks, Paul!!
Is it possible that I can love my life again?Is it possible for us to move on and continue forward?Is it possible that we are living in a (somewhat) normal existence?Is it possible that I feel guilty sometimes when I am happy?Is it possible that I don't want to seek counseling, but just need good friends with which to talk and cry?Is it possible that I might love again?Is it possible to think that I might have a second chance someday?Is it possible to accept that I will never know "why"?I am starting to think that maybe all things are possible...
Mom... I just saw Dad outside your window and he waved to me... so I waved back. I thought you said we wouldn't get to see him again. The things that come out of Tyler's mouth are amazing. I wonder if spirits often visit children (more than adults) because they don't doubt themselves or try to ignore what they have seen. I honestly didn't question him much, because I desperately want it to be true, and I want Tyler to "see" him every chance he gets. I have started journaling all of the things Tyler says. Some are funny, some are touching, and some are sad... some are a combination of all three. Some seem sad, but I usually interperet as being thoughtful (and comical).A few examples...I miss Daddy...Can a tall T-Rex eat Dad in heaven?Where does Dad live when there aren't any clouds?When do we get a new dad, and how long does it take?The bee is dead?? Like our dad??
I know it has been awhile, but trust me, a blog post has been brewing in my head for a few days now. Sadly, I have even edited this particular post and it hasn't even been written yet. I am just not ready to post about it, but I promise it is coming. I have definitely survived the "funk"... until the next one. I find that if I keep our schedule relatively busy and don't allow us to sit home day in and day out, I can keep things together a little better. I know some of you are thinking/saying, "It's OK to NOT hold it together and take time to be upset and cry..." Honestly, it's easier said than done. When I have a three-year-old on my heels at all times it is not OK for me to want to curl up in the fetal position and spend the day crying. I am also very sensitive to crying in front of Tyler. I never want him to feel that he can't bring up Daddy because Mommy always ends up in tears each time his death is mentioned. I WANT him to talk about Bill (and we do everyday), so a daily break-down just isn't healthy for this part of our healing. I promise a more detailed post is coming soon, and I will further explain some details. We are back on track, and the fog has lifted.
I have hit a rough patch. Four days worth, to be exact. I know it's par for the course, but when you are knee deep it is hard to see that the fog will lift. I think our anniversary was the driving force. I feel immensely better today, so I have faith that these times will come and go. The two month mark is quickly approaching, and I am sure that I have cried more the past few days than I have since Bill died. Like I said, today was drastically better, and I am choosing to be happy and live life to the fullest. (And yes, Tyler is fine and was not privy to my funk.)Most people know, although I have not mentioned it on the blog, but I am changing schools next year. Many reasons were involved in this change. I asked (begged) to make a switch, knowing that this summer would be challenging, and I was desperate for a fresh start. I know it seems like a lot of change all at once, but I have not one doubt that it is exactly what I need right now. I have spent a few days over the weeks in my new room unpacking and getting ready for the new school year. I never thought I would say it, but I might be *somewhat* ready to go back to work. I love my time off, but I also thrive on structure and schedule... Work is what got me through the past year, I know I am definitely ready for the relief that a full classroom will bring. I summary... we are still OK...
Today would have been our fifth anniversary. I can remember that day like it was yesterday. Aside from the day Tyler was born, it was the very best day of my life. I would not change one detail about our wedding. On our third date Bill asked me what I was doing for the next 50 years. His intention (and mine) was that we would spend them together. I am still stunned that I am now on my life's journey without him. In fact, I believe my shock is thinning, and reality is setting in. I still think I am doing well in the whole grieving process... as inconsistent as it is, however. Although I can discuss Bill and cancer and our situation without tears, I find other life happenings send me into a crying spell. The past three days have been hard, and the old saying that time heals all wounds is not proving to be true lately. I know it will get better and the hurt will lessen, but I miss him terribly. At times, I feel selfish in my grief because I want him back for me, to be here with me, to comfort me... I desperately long for things to be the way the were before cancer hit our family. Trust me, I realize that is not possible, and it really doesn't help to expend my energy wishing for the impossible, but on a day like today, it can't be helped. Tyler's preschool teacher's last day was today. I cried all day yesterday, and just thinking about it makes me well up... granted I would have easily shed tears under "normal" circumstances, but perhaps I was slightly over the top. She has been a godsend to us this year. To have her as his first teacher in a long line of educators is absolutely priceless. He LOVES school because of Mrs. N. More importantly, she loves him. As a parent, that is my number one wish, and it was fulfilled this year more than I could ever imagine. Tyler is one lucky boy!
I follow a good number of blogs. Some are "mom" blogs, melanoma blogs, widow blogs, melanoma widow blogs, cancer patient blogs... I am sure there are a few other types that I am forgetting. One in particular has taken over my evenings. I have been following it for a little over three months now, and its purpose is to give updates on a 2-year-old who is waiting for a liver transplant due to a very rare form of liver cancer. I do not know the family, but feel oddly connected to them through their words. They also have a 4-year-old and are expecting a third son next month. The stress they are going through is astronomical, yet they always remain strong.The parents of this toddler update the blog every night! I look forward to it, depend on it, and struggle going to bed without reading the daily post. I also think about this family numerous times per day, hoping it is a good one for them. I was always aware when I skipped a day or two reporting on Bill, and people would share that they checked our blog each day, some of you numerous times. :) It made me smile knowing that people thought about us regularly. I would chuckle when I'd get friendly e-mails reminding me to post. It's amazing how this little boy has impacted my life. I hope Bill knows that his stint with cancer was a learning experience that branched out far beyond we could ever imagine. I get it now, and I apologize to those who wore out their "refresh" button... ;)
One year ago (August 1st) we were given the shocking news that Bill had cancer. At that point, we were told it was squamous cell carcinoma. It wasn't until 4 days after we found out its true severity. If someone would have told me that one year from this day, I would be trying to heal my heart and living life as a single mom, I never would have believed it. We are having a great summer and have kept extremely busy with different activities, travels, and play dates. It has been a godsend to have the summer off, which has allowed Tyler and me the chance to get used to our new "normal". We talk about Bill daily, and he is actually starting to understand that daddy didn't choose this. He didn't want to leave us. I make sure that I show Tyler a balance that it's OK to be sad and cry about missing dad, AND we can talk about him without tears, too. We can remember the good times and still draw him pictures, even though he is in heaven. I am so proud of my little man!
Part of my problem is thinking too much. Hence the reason for two posts in one day! I have not been sleeping well and that leads to trouble when I am left alone with my own thoughts. I think about death quite a bit and how insane it is that I am not alone in losing my husband at age 33 (although I turned 34 eleven days after Bill died). I lie awake at night thinking of ways I could possibly help other people if they are just beginning the cancer walk. I know a book is somewhere inside me, but that is really not enough. I want to talk to people... listen to them... support the caregiver. I was fortunate to meet someone who walked the path almost a year before I did. (Actually, I am unclear if "fortunate" is the appropriate word choice... maybe unfortunate would be more fitting in our situation.) Now as I ramble, I realize I don't remember the main reason of this post. That is the story of my life... I have a severe case of what is known as "widow's brain". The numbness carries over to all aspects of life, not just in grieving. I keep reminding myself that I cannot start a new beginning, but I can begin to create a new ending.
I have a new outlook regarding death and the way in which someone dies. Losing someone suddenly is MUCH harder for the family, but drastically better for the "patient", since they don't experience months and months (in our case) of suffering. Losing someone due to a terminal illness is actually better for the family, since you are given time to say good-bye; yet this route is far more difficult for the patient. I am not saying one is "better" than the other, because both are horrific, I am just noting that there is a difference. Since I thankfully only have experience one way, I fully appreciate and took advantage of the time we had together. I also value the heart-wrenching conversations we had, and I have no doubts about the love we shared. I also was able to let him go at the end knowing I had not one regret... that is a gift in itself. I think these things play a huge role in the grieving process and has lessened my pain. I don't usually quote fellow bloggers, but I recently read one that struck me as quite true. She is also a fellow widow, although lost her husband suddenly. She quoted Charles Swindoll (a pastor) who said:I’m convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you. We have choices within our attitudes. This is so true, especially as I navigate my way through the various stages of grief. The mind is a powerful thing. It IS up to me to live a happy life, or sit and wallow in pity. I don't pick the latter... Bill wouldn't want that either. He'd tell me to "buck up" and "suck it up", so that is what I am doing. One day at a time...
We live in a technological age. I can admit that I would be lost without various forms of technology in my life. Actually, I would guess I have some form of addiction, but since the entire world (practically) has the same problem, it tends to go unnoticed or is ignored. There are even aspects of my job (ahem... smart board) when I whole-heartedly depend on advanced technology. We live in a fast-paced world... I can't imagine waiting for things that many of us lived without the majority of our lives. I didn't get my first cell phone until college, and now I panic if I leave it at home when I run to the store. I can't fathom looking up movie times in the paper, flipping through the yellow pages, or waiting at home for a phone call... or even writing checks to pay bills. Everything I do is done quickly, and there is a certain gratification to getting things done NOW, and not waiting for the mundane. I, for one, am not a fan of waiting for things that have the capability to be done quickly. It seems that I am always on fast-forward...One thing has not advanced with time... Human emotions cannot be expedited. Grief cannot be fast-tracked. Feelings cannot be rushed. Life cannot be accelerated... I am so humbly reminded that I need to slow down and allow myself to feel.
The year of "firsts" is not easy. We have already encountered a few and this weekend was no exception. I went to my first wedding. I have to be honest and say that I probably wasn't ready for a wedding, but this one was unique. I knew my first one would have to be someone special, because I anticipated an emotional roller coaster. Since it was my cousin and I (obviously) knew her before I ever met Bill; it seemed the event would be an easier adventure... given my circumstance. Widowed or not, it is not uncommon for me to get teary while a bride walks down the aisle or during the vows, etc. I did really well and didn't cry more than my "normal" amount. We got to the reception and all was well... THEN, Tyler and I sat down at our table and thankfully, we were the first people to find it. I happened to sit directly in front of the table number and the back of it had writing that caught my eye. This is what I read:THANK YOU
We have chosen a special way to thank you for celebrating our wedding day with us and also honor those who share this day with us in spirit. In doing so, we have made charitable donations to:
The Melanoma Research FoundationThe National Center for Learning Disabilities
Saint Mary's Catholic Central HS
and the
Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation
Thank you for being a part of our lives.To say I was touched by this sentiment is an understatement. I sat in my chair and cried silently until I knew I couldn't get away with it any longer. Knowing the background, these all hold special places to our respective families. The kind thought that went into choosing these warms my heart. Just thinking about it makes my eyes well up with tears. I am proud to say that I went to the perfect "first" wedding. Thank you, Hughes family, for making it so special. (And yes, I stole the table number thing for posterity, and so I could write about it.)(I would post a picture of the reception, but I am far too embarrassed to show what my child was doing during/after dinner. Rolling on the dance floor is not my idea of appropriate, although I still managed to snap of picture of it.)
I started this blog to keep friends and family updated on the cancer front. I had no idea it would turn into my therapy and get the response it has received. It has been a blessing all around. I have come to the realization that we (Tyler and I) are boring! I don't have a new post everyday or information I am eagerly waiting to share. We lack excitement to the utmost degree. That being said, I thrive on this part of our lives. It doesn't make for "good blogging", but it does make for a calm, normal existence that I so badly craved the past year. (Whatever "normal" means...) At Bill's funeral I lost count of how many people asked if I would continue the blog. I am nowhere near ready to give it up, in fact, I would really like to print it, but I have come to realize that I am very wordy... therefore, it is insanely long. Every once and awhile I get an e-mail or a comment from someone saying they sat down and read the entire thing from start to finish. My first thought is... there is NO way that is possible in one sitting! I found a website that prints blogs (with the comments), but after I signed up and put in the blog address, it told me that my order could not be processed. I took that as, "Are you kidding? This is the longest thing ever and you need to shut your trap once and awhile!" :) I am still working on it. I would love to seek a publisher, but so much needs to be done in-between posts to make it a comprehensive story. Bill has encouraged me to write a book since before we got married. If he only knew that the subject would end up being about his battle against the beast. Who knew??
The past year we learned a whole slew of new vocabulary words. Just the medical jargon alone was enough to make your head spin. Not to mention the medication names... Bill used to say he earned a medical degree learning it all. (He also said he earned a law degree watching reruns of Law & Order.) We also developed different terminology between the two of us. The main words were - before, during, and after. Translation:Before diagnosis...During treatment...After was a little complicated... At the beginning it was "After treatment..." but the last few months, we both knew what after really meant. "Well, you know... after (insert head nod and eyebrow raise here)..." He died with a laundry list of things for me to do and take care of... after. My "after" starts tomorrow. I know that seems a little late, a month to be exact, but I have been procrastinating making phone calls, changing insurance, and getting things squared away. I don't feel I am behind in the grieving process, so I suppose that is a little progress. We got home from our trip this afternoon and as I opened the mail, I started my list of To Do's (no shock there) and realized that it is officially after. I knew we were taking this trip and promised myself that upon our return I would take care of the logistics. We are back, and I kept my promise and started the train of phone calls this afternoon. Maybe I needed a month to be comfortable making the calls and saying the words, "My husband passed away..." because those words DO get easier to say. I can't believe it has been a month already. In some ways it seems like he has been gone A LOT longer, and in other ways it seems like just yesterday.
Lake Tahoe is beautiful and the weather is perfect! In fact, I would even admit that today was a little too cool for beach play. That didn't stop Tyler, though. It has been a fun trip and tomorrow we leave to go to Bill's aunt's house in French Gulch. It is a different "small town" way of life, and I am excited to go back. I know Tyler will love it too.We opened the ashes today and left a little bit of Bill in the lake. It was harder than I expected... just sad. I suppose I never assumed it would be easy. I keep telling myself that it is not really him, it's simply remnants of a shell that held his heart, and a piece of mine. I am currently reading an amazing book that I highly recommend for anyone (especially if you have encountered death anytime in the past.) It is called, Don't Let Death Ruin Your Life. The title sounds a little harsh, but ignore it, the book is a genius account of how to move on with your life while still keeping the memory of the deceased present. It is the ideal balance of both... so helpful to know that I can continue my life while living in the bliss of Bill's memory.
I have always thought it was odd that preschools alter the words to the song Ring Around the Rosy. It is a timeless classic that is sang (usually) without analyzing the words. The end part - ...ashes, ashes, we all fall down - is the part that has changed. Stay with me... I DO have a point. The song is about the Black Plague in Europe that dates back to the thirteen hundreds. (I could be a little off here, but that is the gist of it. Feel free to correct me!) There are two theories of what the ashes signify. One being the idea of death (Europe lost one-third of their population during this time) and burning the bodies... the other is about sneezing their "lungs out"... I think. My history is fuzzy, so please excuse my butchering. I never deemed it necessary to change the lyrics to the song, and I also never thought it pertinent to explain the intended meaning to children. It seemed like a harmless nursery rhyme. This song now has new meaning for me.I picked up the ashes today. I hesitate to say "Bill's ashes", because I just can't comprehend that he is actually in that small box. We leave for Lake Tahoe tomorrow for a little vacation and while it is well-warranted, it is bittersweet. We are going to take some of the ashes and put them on the lake. (I know it's illegal, so if you are a part of law enforcement we aren't really doing that.) Bill's first wish was to be spread in Tahoe... then the ocean... then Hawaii... then a golf course. Needless to say, I will honor those requests and spread him out. Things still seem surreal and I definitely have my moments, but we are hanging in there. Tyler is doing really well, and I, honestly, am too. Thank you all for still checking on us!!
I miss plural pronouns. I miss "WE"...I miss "OURS"...I miss "US"...It takes a conscious thought for me to alter my pronouns. I am not accustomed to using "I", "me", "my"... and I'm not sure I want to make a permanent change to my habitual vocabulary... but life is full of hurdles that are not always welcomed.
Cancer SUCKS! It is everywhere and difficult to escape. Although I am currently in the first stage of living without cancer, the thought of it never truly goes away. Cancer is based on stages (I-IV) and I feel like I am currently Stage V. I am living a complicated stage of the "aftermath". No longer with cancer... but will never be without it. I will be forever touched by the valiant fight Bill (and so many others) endured. At the ripe age of 34 I feel I know FAR too many people whose lives have been affected by this disease. Recently, a dear friend was told she will be yet another person added to the list of "cancer fighters". She is just beginning her battle and needs some extra prayers. I can't stop thinking about her and her young family. She is supported, loved, and strong... and will be cancer-free after this little bump in the road. I refuse to live my life with anger for cancer. I refuse to let it take over my thoughts.I refuse to let it have POWER over me.I refuse to hate it... hate is a strong emotion and cancer doesn't deserve any emotion. Cancer, I refuse to let you control anything in my life.Cancer SUCKS!*Cancer SUCKS! is an actual organization that raises money for cancer research.*
"Don't" is a strong word. I feel the need to clarify that, although the post from last night was very real (and for that, I cannot apologize) but maybe I could have used a better choice of words. For instance "Try not to..." I have to inform all of you that I am not offended if you say any of those things. It takes quite a bit to offend me. ;) I may not even notice if you say, or have said, some of those lines. Like I stated, you may very well hear those words come out of my mouth. I don't expect anyone to know the "perfect" the words to say; I am living this situation and I haven't a clue as to what I would like to hear. I would be worried if someone was so accustomed to this type of event that he/she knew the exact phrase to provide comfort. Who in the world would want to be so familiar with this type of traumatic experience that the condolence simply rolled off the tongue? I, for one, hope to never encounter another human being who must deal with this hideous beast.
Please don't take any of this personally... it is really just a way of formulating my thoughts and putting them in a cohesive manner that I can understand. I am still doing well, but have certain moments of deep, sad feelings of grief. What Not To Say To Someone Grieving:Please...Don't tell me you understand how I feel, or that you can imagine the pain I am going through, unless you have lost the love of your life. Trust me, you can't. If I can't understand, and I am going through it, trust me, you can't – your mind will just not let you voluntarily imagine pain in this aptitude. Don't try to compare my loss to the loss of a grandparent, or a friend, or an acquaintance or pet, it's not the same. I understand that all of these things are painful, but it is not remotely close. Don't ask how I'm doing unless you really want to know. Just because I look good, doesn't mean I feel that way. I am assuming that since you have asked, you truly want to know. Don't try to save me from my feelings or make me feel better. I know you can't bear to see me in so much pain, but I need to go through all of these feelings whether I want to or not. Once you have "given me permission" to talk or cry, please don't try and distract me with small talk. I know it makes you feel better if I appear happy, but that is just not always the reality. Don't tell me everything will be okay. Don't tell me "he's always with you". Don't tell me "he's no longer in pain". Don't tell me "he's looking down on you from heaven". Don't tell me "you're lucky that you had such love, some people don't". Don't tell me "he's in a better place". Don't be surprised however, if I say these things… Don't ever tell me "you need to be strong"... I am trying.If ever there's a time I should be permitted to be weak, this is it. Whatever you do, don't tell me "If I were you I'd…." Until you are in the same situation, you have absolutely no idea what you would do. Your logical brain has absolutely no control. Never try telling me "life goes on", or "he wouldn't want you to cry", or "God will never give you more than you can handle" or any other platitudes.Again, don't be surprised if I say some of these things. It's a coping mechanism.Don't try to solve my "problem". Unless you can bring him back, it can't be "solved". Don't tell me I when I should or should not start dating. Only I will know when that time comes, and it probably will not look the way you (or I) think it should. Don't feel the need to fill in silences. I know the silences are hard, but if you can accept them, you are helping me immensely.Don't tell me that my life needs to go on. I am fully living my life, however, I am grieving not only my spouse, but the person I was when I was with him. MOST OF ALL...Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank you for praying for me.
You don't get to choose your family. Luckily, I drew the long straw in that contest. You DO get to choose your friends. I am so very thankful that I chose wisely. I am humbled by their constant love and support. What would I do without good friends, good food, and good wine? Tonight was no exception. It is so rewarding to get out tonight and thoroughly enjoy the company of great friends.
Everything I had researched and read about death mentioned the feelings of peace and calm that a terminal patient finally achieves. The last two weeks of Bill's life were anything but peaceful. I repeatedly stated that what Bill (and our family) endured was not even close to the realm of one dying in peace. I honestly felt that everything comforting I had heard about death was a lie... I was bitter that after such a difficult fight, even his death would be painful and stressful.On Monday, June 15th, around 4:30 in the afternoon I finally allowed myself to leave Bill's side and head downstairs for a break. I had been next to him the better part of the day. It had been all of about 15 minutes, and I had just finished making Tyler a sandwich. Adam heard his mom's warning from upstairs and looked at me and said, "He's going." We both ran at full speed up the stairs. My heart sank... I knew the moment for which we had all reluctantly prayed was actually happening. One can NEVER prepare. I sat next his shell and put his hand in mine and watched his chest attempt to keep taking breaths. (They were very few and far between.) After having his eyes closed and his mouth open for a solid three days, he opened his eyes and closed his mouth. He also took both of his hands out of ours and slowly set them on top of each other on his stomach in preparation for his final slumber... and then he took his last breath at exactly 5:00. We sat around him praying and crying for about 15 minutes. After he passed, his eyes closed again and his mouth reopened when his jaw muscles loosened. I actually tried to close it and the nurse warned me that his jaw wouldn't stay shut, but I had to try it for myself. We took our attention off of Bill and recapped what had happened and talked about logistics with the nurse. I looked back to Bill's thin face and couldn't believe what I saw... he had closed his mouth almost completely and was wearing a grin that only Bill could give. HE WAS SMILING! I never would have believed it if I didn't see it for myself. An actual SMILE. Finally, he was at peace... we were at peace... The fight was over and it WAS peaceful. Before Bill passed, I told him I wanted some sort of sign afterward that he was all right and made his journey safely. I also clarified that "a sign" was not the same as "haunting". I clearly told him that I did not wish to be haunted or scared in any way. No peaking in windows or showing up in pictures as a ghost, etc. He said he understood and would do his best to honor my wishes. I got my sign... he smiled to let me know all was well, and he made it safely. Hence the reason I took pictures. As odd as it sounds, Bill's death was a beautiful life experience. I get it now... the peacefulness, the calmness, the serenity... I get it.
No, not Michael Jackson, although I was surprised by his death, I am referring to Farrah Fawcett. She lost her battle with cancer this morning. I don't think her death was unexpected, but it still made me sad. After watching her cancer special about the trials of her treatment from Bill's hospital room, I gained a new level of respect for her. Not many beautiful celebrities would allow themselves to be so vulnerable and raw on national TV. I am disappointed that the news coverage is only really focusing on Michael. She would have been able to further spread cancer awareness, even after her death, if Michael would have held on a little longer. I feel like she was robbed of the spotlight she deserved. It just hit a little too close to home today.
How are YOU doing?
Honestly? Remarkably well. I am a little surprised at the amount of relief I feel. I am relieved that Bill is no longer suffering... relieved to live each day that is not surrounded by cancer... relieved to give Tyler some normalcy back into his little life (mine too). I know I did everything in my power as Bill's caregiver. I loved him, cared for him, cried with him, and held him through the entire battle. I have no regrets. I would not change anything if I had to do it all over again.
Mourning is an interesting thing. It sneaks up on you, and then disappears when you think it should be present in full force. There is no rhyme or reason regarding grief. Bill and I spent the last 10 months grieving. We grieved together every step of the way. He would tell me when he could feel changes and would let me know that he thought his time was limited. Although it was excruciatingly painful, I am so thankful that we could talk openly and honestly about our thoughts and wishes. I truly think those heartfelt conversations have created an inner peace inside me that words just can't describe.
**Disclaimer: I may feel differently tomorrow, and I am reserving the right to change my mind.**
I got to work for 4 hours today... I use the word "got" (not had) because that is how I feel. I am part of an amazing district committee that teaches teachers "life-changing" technology. (OK, a little dramatic, but it's true. There is SO much more to it, but that is the idea in a nutshell.) I am privileged to be a member of this elite team. It was really nice to spend 4 hours thinking about something else, and I realized that my brain did not actually turn to mush during this ordeal. The past 10 months, going to work has been my saving grace. The past few weeks were so intense that I longed for some time in my element. Getting back on the proverbial horse was exactly what I needed.
I want to write about Bill's last moments on this Earth, so I feel like I should give some sort of warning before I jump into recounting his last breaths. It will be in the next day or two, so you may want to skip that post if you are bothered by the topic. I actually want to write about it while it is still fresh (raw) in my mind, so Tyler can someday have a detailed explanation of his Dad's passing. Rest assured, I will not post the pictures. (Yes, there are pictures.)
So many generous people have inquired about a memorial fund or donation they can make in Bill's honor. While I have not set up a memorial fund, I do have a recommendation if you are so inclined. In fact, Bill and I talked frequently about what charity to which I would donate after his death. (He wanted to have a say in all of the "afters"... but that is an entirely different post.)A little background... We originally were ecstatic to donate to the City of Hope, but after our lackluster experience, our enthusiasm dwindled. I found the Melanoma Research Foundation (MRF) and their website answered millions of my questions. They also have a bulletin board/chat area for patients and caregivers that has literally saved my sanity (the little I have left). I would check the board nightly and have made friends with others fighting this beast both directly and indirectly. This is why I will choose MRF as my donation recipient. I truly feel that I can put a "face to a name" with this amazing organization. You can make a donation by mail to:
The Melanoma Research Foundation 170 Township Line Road, Building BHillsborough, NJ 08844Phone: 1-800-MRF-1290 Fax: 908-281-0937
Please make check payable to the Melanoma Research Foundation (MRF).
Your donation is tax-deductible.EIN# 76-0514428
If you prefer, you can make a donation through their secure online site.http://www.melanoma.org/memorialdonation.aspxAnother option that we talked about as a family is the support of Hospice... particularly Vitas Hospice. They were incredible and supported ALL of us through such a difficult time. Even though it has only been week (I can't believe it has been a whole week), I am already planning ways that I can "pay it forward" and give something back to those in need. We are so greatly supported that I am excited and motivated to be able to do something for others in desperate need, like we were.
I will admit that I was dreading today. It just made me sad that Bill had so few Father's Days and then passed away right before one to which he was entitled. Fatherhood is a rite of passage for most Dads. The title is earned and goes to those who lovingly bring children into this world. Bill was one of those. He fought long and hard for Tyler, not me. I am not trying to be the martyr, I know he loved me more than anything and did not want to leave me, but he died knowing that I would be OK, and I would always cherish our memories. He also knew he took a piece of my heart with him. I can't say the same for his thoughts about Tyler. He was uneasy with the unknown of his little son's life. He was uncertain his three-year-old would actually remember him. He wanted to be there as his Dad on this Earth, not watching from above. He hung on for Tyler... It was the one thing I could not "guarantee", to a certain degree, the way things would happen. He wanted me to promise these three things regarding our son: 1. I will always love him and take care of him (duh, that's easy) 2. I won't change his last name (also a no-brainer) 3. I won't buy him a Porsche when he turns 16 (I agreed, but that doesn't mean I can't buy myself one! He actually gave me carte blanche on my future vehicles.)Happy Father's Day to all the dads (and single moms) out there!
Bill's service was yesterday, and I am proud to say that I made it through. (I seriously had my doubts.) For those who weren't there, it can only be summed up in one word... beautiful. The service, the church, the hall... all simply beautiful! We guesstimated approximately 300 people were there, which is indicative of not only our support system, but the type of person Bill was. I was so, SO nervous before it started, and now I wish I could live in that moment forever. I truly felt his presence, and I know he was impressed with the turnout! ;) After the reception, the Bartak/Nicassio/Britton clan went back to Joe and Ann's and relaxed. The kids played together and the three boys now have a family bond that I will always cherish for Tyler. We reminisced, drank a few adult beverages, and enjoyed the day. It was truly a happy ending; just like Bill would have wanted. A few of us went to sushi later in the evening, without children, and toasted Bill numerous times throughout dinner. Tyler and I left late last night, and I actually drove home with a smile in my heart. I really didn't think that would be possible yesterday or anytime soon, for that matter. I am truly convinced that you feel how you act... you shouldn't act how you feel. If I act happy, then I will feel happy (and it won't have to be "an act".) I really do feel extremely lucky and so very blessed to have incredible family and friends. Bill is up there smiling!!
Joe and I went to the mortuary today and finalized the details for the cremation. It was surprisingly easy, although I am pretty numb and in a daze, so open heart surgery would also be easy at this point. I am seriously spacey since Bill passed away. I can't focus... that is, I can't focus on what I am trying to do. I can focus perfectly on staring into space or watching a fly zoom around. I have never been one to just sit and watch TV. I always multi-task, even if it's watching TV and reading or being on the computer, I never just sit and stare at it. Our recent events have turned me into someone with severe attention issues. I am hoping this too, gets better with time. Things are falling into place nicely for the service on Friday, and I can only hope that my numbness lasts for its entirety. I am having it videotaped... that might seem weird to some, but when the memory of a three year old is concerned, I feel it is necessary. (Yes, Tyler will be there.) With my mind in a constant haze, the video will be nice for me too.
As the disease progressed, I knew we were in for difficult times. I knew it would be the hardest time of our life, and I knew I would answer questions from a three-year-old that I would never be able to predict. I knew a lot... and even though I knew one cannot prepare for this type of tragedy; I need to admit that I didn't know it would be devastating to the nth degree. Granted it has barely been 24 hours, but the thought that he is gone never, ever leaves my mind. Tyler asked me today, "Does Daddy live in a different house now?" I said, "Yes, he lives a huge beautiful house with Jesus up above the clouds in the sky." He said, "But his car is still here, how did he get there?"I replied, "You don't need a car in heaven. It's a magical place."He quietly took in the answer and is contemplating the next question, I'm sure. He's just like his dad... We love (and need) the prayers. Thank you to our amazing support system who has continued to pray for us and love us. Tyler and I need it more now, than ever. We will be OK, and we will get through this together. He is one special little boy, and I don't think it's a coincidence that he looks exactly like Bill. Bill's Memorial Service and Reception
Friday, June 19th at 11:00am
Saint John Vianney Church
1345 Turnbull Canyon Rd.
Hacienda Heights, CA 91745
All are welcome!
So many different emotions and feelings, I don't really know where to start. My main concern right now is Tyler, and no one else, really. I told him that Daddy had to go walk with Jesus in heaven and we wouldn't see him anymore. I also told him that I would always take care of him, and that it's OK to be sad sometimes, but we can still talk to him while he's in heaven. He jumped off the swing we were sitting on and asked me to play jump rope. Then later...I took Tyler up to bed, and he walked into my room and saw that the bed with Daddy in it was gone. He cried... not an obnoxious "I want attention" cry, but a slow, sad cry that showed me he understood. He tried to crawl under my bed to hide, so I sat next to him on the floor and we cried together. My poor baby... it was heart wrenching. I know he desperately needs a mommy who is able to give him all her attention (since the last few weeks have been so crazy), and he needs me to guide us to a new normal. That is my new quest... finding Tyler some stability in his life so that we can try to rebuild our household with just the two of us... I learned tonight, that the sooner the better. I thought this blog served as my therapy through this ordeal, but now it will be more so than ever.** Services will be held on Friday, more details will follow. **
Another Melanoma WARRIOR got his wings this evening at 5:00.WILLIAM JOSEPH BARTAKDecember 27, 1966 - June 15, 2009May you rest quietly and peacefully in your new home. You will always be our hero.I will always love you, my dear husband.
Bill has always been a person with an extremely strong work ethic. In twelve years at Claim Jumper he never took an impromptu sick day. Even after being diagnosed, he never once called in sick. He is a true work horse!That would explain the reason he is still not giving up on this never-ending fight. We have told him over and over that his battle must end, and he is ready to walk with Jesus... We are ready for his departure from this world. He is heading to a better place (and we are insisting he saves us seats). He is still in a coma and non-responsive. His eyes are fully dilated which means he has turned off his brain to this world. His breathing is very shallow and he has what is referred to the "death rattle". It is still a waiting game... I will keep updating if and when things change. Thank you for all your prayers and well-wishes. We read and love every single one! We have faith that Bill will complete this journey knowing how much he is loved and cherished.
