Archive for June 2010

Strange weekend…

27 June, 2010

I should be used to this up and down feeling that I constantly have. Some days I make it through okay and then get slapped down the next day…Most of the time it can’t even be counted in days. Minutes, hours mostly. This weekend was no exception. Having to put the Maggie B dog down on Saturday was hard. Not the hardest thing I’ve had to endure by any means but it was hard. Then I also have a house guest that has been here for over a week and will be leaving at the end of this week. With that brings additional things that need to be done and figuring out what they can do to help me around the house. Things definitely have gotten done. We went to dinner with my wonderful neighbors Friday night and then Saturday night we were at dinner with my Aunt and Uncle. It just seems like I run around doing things that are emotionally hard followed by entertaining…Or on most occasions it is just hard emotionally to do anything. EVERYTHING is a reminder. I need a vacation. Just LiDo and I.

I’m trying to decide where to go. Any ideas?


The Maggie B

26 June, 2010

I named her after my favorite book as a child, ‘The Maggie B’. I’ve had her for her entire life and today I had to say goodbye to her and make the decision to put her down. It certainly isn’t the hardest thing I have had to do as of late…but I felt like this was another nail in the coffin of my previous life. She was just getting so terribly bad and couldn’t really walk. I wrapped her in a towel and laid her on the front seat and she didn’t move at all on the drive to the vet. I carried her in, just mostly skin and bones now, so light. We waited for quite a while for the vet to see us and I just held her head and could tell that this was the best decision that I could make for her. She just laid her head on my arm like she used to do when we snuggled. I could tell she just wasn’t there anymore but we had our last moments. It was so peaceful and I stayed with her until she took her final breath.

It is just another part of my past that is now gone. I think that is the hardest part. I feel like I’ve lost the person I used to be and with her death I’ve lost all current traces of me that was…my last link. I think too that it of course just brings up things about Doug’s crash. Things that I just don’t allow myself to think about. But seeing my dog being put down today and seeing her last breaths taken, counting down the hours and minutes before taking her in, thinking to myself that she has one hour to live, 30 minutes to live, 10 minutes to live…it all just brought up everything that I think about with my husband’s death. What happened. Was it quick. Were his last breaths in pain. I wasn’t there to hold him. This just brings things to the surface that I’ve been trying my hardest to shove way down.

Father’s Day

20 June, 2010

My darling Husband,

Today is Father’s Day. Today is nine months. Today is a Sunday.

I had been planning on taking LiDo out to do something. Just the two of us. But I couldn’t get myself to leave the house. I didn’t want to chance running into all of these families. Fathers with their kid(s). I couldn’t do it. Not this year.

I still thought about the day though. I still thought about you. I thought about how excited you were to be a Father. Be a Dad. You would come to me at times and tell me that you had ‘just one of those feelings’…then you would go on and tell me how you were sitting at the computer and you just had this thought come over you…and then you would go to tell me how cool it was to be married to me…or you would tell me how excited you were just thinking about how cool it was going to be to teach LiDo how to ride a bike…

you said ‘just how cool is that?’

I get so angry at times thinking about why this happened to someone like you. Someone who was in one a great and wonderful place in his life. How could this happen to someone who would get overwhelmingly excited about things having to do with his family. The one he made. The one he was a part of each and every day.

It is so hard to write to you today. There are so many things about today. A year of you gone is creeping up at an ever increasing speed. Today was also a Sunday. I don’t like Sundays. My heart just hurts I want you so badly. I need one of your hugs.

It was Father’s Day last year that I gave you the picture of you and LiDo walking amongst the trees. The black and white one that is and always has been so powerful to me. You holding your son over your shoulder. He is looking at the camera and your back is towards it. I just see this strong man, rooted in, stoic. Like the trees around him. Something about that picture has always captivated me. I know you loved it too.

You would be having so much fun with him right now. He is growing to be such a mix of the two of us. I see you though, in so much he does…sometimes it is just overwhelming. Some days he is all your son. Other days he is mine. But mostly you can see the both of us in him. I like that. To me it shows who we were together. You would be proud of him. He is so smart and loving. He loves helicopters. He hangs out. He keeps busy. He gives me kisses. He is wonderful. You were a wonderful Dad to him. You were always so loving and kind to him. You loved holding him, rocking him, kissing him. You were so gentle with him. You were so proud.

I’m thankful that you are his Daddy. I’m thankful that we could share in this, that you could see your son born. I miss you and as I sit hear and type I can’t stop the tears from flowing…I try to take deep breaths but it is hard. The air has been sucked out of my life. I wanted to give you a card today. I wanted to be excited about a day with you. I wanted to make you breakfast or go get you coffee. I wanted to lie in bed with you and tell you how much I love you and how it is such a wonderful thing to be married to you. I wanted to be a family today. I want you here.

Oh how I remember your touch. How you would captivate me with your eyes and your smile. How I loved that when I looked into your eyes I could see myself reflected back at me. I loved how your eyes could convey so much. I can still feel your kiss. Your passion. Your laughter. You.

Time is passing so quickly. I keep finding myself bracing for the next 3 months. I feel like I am on a countdown. To what? Remembering each and every thing we did and thinking that that was the last time I would do that with you…I don’t want to be on a countdown. Especially one that I don’t know what it is I’m looking towards…

I love you so much and I miss you and I hope that you always knew that you were a great Dad.

Happy Father’s Day.

I love you.

This life and most definitely in the next,

Your Wife


19 June, 2010

I wish I could just stay in a standstill. That is, if I could pick the day. It of course would be a day, any day, that Doug was alive. Every day right now I feel like I am in a different sort of standstill. Not quite sure where to go from here. I’ve been working on something for the past couple of months which has been good for me, I guess. Although, like with everything else, I work on certain things and then I feel so tired for days after. I always try to not do too many things in one week or one day but it seems like inevitably it all happens at once. That is one thing in life that certainly hasn’t changed.

Tonight I am attending an awareness rally for Team Will. Part of me is looking forward to meeting these amazing people who are currently biking across the US to raise awareness of childhood cancer. They are doing this in 10 days. Pretty amazing…

So – not much more to say. Father’s Day is tomorrow. This sucks.

Twenty One – Months

18 June, 2010

My Dearest Little One,

You are twenty one months old…and have been for a few days now. Things have been a little bit busy around our house this week and I just haven’t had time to sit down and write to you. Instead I’ve been chasing after you, playing with you, laughing with you.

Every day you look so much more grown up than the previous day. It makes me sad to see, I’d love for you to be that small baby that I could hold in my arms all of the time. Instead you are on a constant go. You help me water the plants at night. You chase after Panda Kitty. You see all of the changes around you. If I change one thing, paint a wall, hang a picture, you notice it. You walk in to the room and with one hand make a sweeping gesture and say ‘ahhh’ at the same time. It is completely adorable and I appreciate your apparent appreciation of whatever it is that I have done. You are quick to smile and laugh and you have outgrown the screaming which has been very nice. Although I am still on my guard when we are out and about for it to creep up again. It has only reared its head maybe once or twice. I can handle that. Glad your out of the phase though.

Your talking more and more every day. I got you to say margarita the other night. You tend to nail the difficult words and have no time for a simple ‘cat’ or ‘dog’ now and then. Today you spent pretty much the entire time outside. It was super hot but you stayed cool in the shade and playing in the water. We even made snow cones with our new snow cone maker. You loved it. I loved it as well.

This past month it seems like you have latched on to me a little more. Maybe ‘latching on’ isn’t the right term…It just seems like we have more of ‘our thing’ going on. Things that just you and I do together. Funny faces, sounds, hugs, chocolate kisses. Different things. It’s nice. I guess its especially nice because I know if your Dad were alive, the two of you would have a million things like this to share. Things that were just the two of you. It makes me feel like I’m doing something right.

Father’s Day is coming up in a couple of days. I’m not sure what we will do. Maybe we’ll just head to the park for a while. Relax and have a picnic. Just the two of us. That day isn’t going to be easy. It will also mark 9 months that your Dad has been gone. My heart still just breaks every time I think about how long he has been away from us.

I found some pictures of your Daddy the other day. It has been a few months since I had looked at them. It was when he was little and oh how the two of you look so much alike.  People always comment on how you look so much like me…but if they only knew. Maybe I should carry one of those pictures around with me…

I love you baby. Thank you for making me feel like I’m doing okay by you. You are a wonderful child. So sweet and loving and full of mischief. Mischief to the point that you figured out how to get the baby gates unscrewed. The second time you did it, you manage to make it downstairs and walked into the living room with the biggest, sly smile on your face. A smile that said ‘damn I’m proud of myself’ while at the same time said ‘ha, gotcha’ while at the same time said ‘ oh shit am I going to get in trouble?’  All I could do was let my jaw hit the floor in amazement and follow that up with laughing for quite a long time.

Music is something you definitely love. Dancing around the house and jumping is your thing right now. Especially jumping. You are so good at it and know how to jump OFF the ground with both feet at the same time…Your pretty cool.

I got you your first set of matchbox cars. The first night you had them I didn’t even rock you to sleep…instead you took three of the cars and went straight to your bed. About twenty minutes later though you decided that you still needed me…So I sat in the rocker and you climbed onto my lap and then grabbed my hand and wanted me to hold it out while you placed each car delicately in the palm of my hand. You even closed my hand around them as if you were giving me your most precious gift for safe keeping. Then you snuggled into me and fell asleep.

My sweet child, you keep me going. You make me smile and laugh. I love you.

Always and forever, in this life and the next,

Your Mom

My sly guy…


13 June, 2010

The past few weeks have been rough. Reality bites and then bites again. That fog that I have spoken about keeps lifting and drifting further away. And the pain increases with every wisp gone.

Lately it is just thinking that Liam has so much to go through without a father. A father that loved being a father, a dad, a proud poppa. It is thinking about all of the things that I must go through alone. A lot of these feelings were brought to the surface by going to the frickin’ Dinosaur exhibit this weekend. I choose not to do these things very often because it just hurts way too much. Doug should have been there. We should have been a family there. I miss doing things as a family. Holding his hand. Loving him with our son. Loving him with me. Loving us. It was so wonderful.

Lately it is missing his touch. His hugs. His kiss.

I didn’t think I could hurt any more than I have been hurting these past months. But I am.

I am lucky I have my son. He is the reason I continue to get up in the morning. So much like his Dad. So much like Us.

Ice pack moment after he fell and split his lip…


9 June, 2010

Two days ago I was off to a meeting in a part of town that I never go to. It’s not my area. Not my part of town. I think the last time I had been over there was to meet a cake designer for our wedding. Doug was with me. That was over 5 years ago. Monday, though, I was back there – across the street actually from where we had met the cake lady. I was going to a meeting to discuss setting up a charitable foundation in memory of my husband. In memory of Doug. Strange.

As I was getting out of the car, I heard this woman say to me ‘where did you get those shoes’…I was standing next to my car looking at my reflection in one of the windows and fixing my fly away hair when I hear this and turned and looked at who this was coming from. As I turn, I freeze. She freezes. Then she starts screaming my name. Runs over to me and hugs me. She was a girl I knew in high school. I haven’t seen her since. I couldn’t believe she was standing there and that we had met back up again. Strange.

I was running late to the meeting I was going to but then I just couldn’t leave her side. In probably under 5 minutes with 16 years of life accumulated since the last time we saw each other, the fact that my husband had died recently and that she has epilepsy and has had a stroke and brain surgery came out. Strange.

I got her cell number and we had lunch today. A four hour lunch.

We talked about our stories. The ones that changed our future, our life. The ones that we had no choice in.

We talked about how lonely it was. We talked about how hard it was. We talked about how great of actors we had become. We talked about how we have become such different people.

We talked.

About everything.

We talked about things that I don’t write about because no one would understand or maybe take offense to it. We talked about things that we don’t talk about freely with other people. It felt good to talk to someone whose words were similar or familiar to my own. I told her that talking to her brought me more comfort than talking to other widows. We do not have similar situations, but we both were set on a similar path to a certain extent… We ended up in a world and a reality that we did not choose. And with that comes so many similar things.

For brief moments of time today, I have felt that there is something beyond this life. That there is something greater than ourselves. Not something that governs our future or makes a destiny for us. But something that is out there that comes to us when we need it. Looking at all the things that had to happen for us to be at that one location that neither one of us would have been unless we had one specific thing to do and for us to schedule those items at a time when we would have overlapped – one leaving one arriving – small decisions while driving there, or staying a little later than anticipated…Strange. Amazing.

That moment and the afternoon talking, made me open up my soul a little bit. Made me start to believe again. Made me start to think that there is something. Made me start to look around me a little more for other signs. Signs that I have maybe been missing these past almost 9 months. Or maybe I haven’t and they are just coming around to me again. Either way.