Archive for October 2010

As I look…I am the one.

27 October, 2010

As I look at his picture, I think of the many things we were supposed to do together in this lifetime. I think of the things that we should have had a chance to do together, as a family. As I look at his picture, I think that this just can’t be real.

It can’t be real that I am the only one to put our son to sleep each night. That I am the one to make the decisions for us. That I am the one who gets to see all of the little things Lido does. The things that you would have seen.

I try not to get my thoughts going in this direction too much but as of late, they are definitely going there. I don’t want to think about the life that we would have had. I’d like to think of the life we did have. To feel okay with just that. It is hard though because every day, I wonder if I am doing things right. If I am a good enough parent for Lido. If he’ll be okay.

I wish with all of my heart that he would have some memories of you. Ones that he could have all to himself. The ones where it was just you and him. Along with losing you, the other thing that I hate is that he won’t know you. Sure, he’ll be able to put pieces of you together from all of us but he won’t know you as a son knows his father. As he would know you. I hate this fact.

Over a year has gone by now, that I have not felt your touch, heard your laugh, looked at you, talked with you. I get so afraid that things are slipping away that I won’t remember about us. About our life. Even though things feel like it happened yesterday, they seem so far away at times. I want to tell all these stories about you, but how do you tell stories about the small little things? The things that drove me nuts that I love about you? The miniscule thins that only I would appreciate?

My heart is still breaking. I love you.



21 October, 2010

I just have to say that I am proud of both Lido and I.

For the past two years he has been rocked to sleep, cuddled, loved and snuggled prior to going to bed. After Doug died, I did it because I had been doing it but I also didn’t want to let him go. He wasn’t ready either. Then I just kept doing it because I needed it maybe more than him…but it was our ritual so he did like it and love it. Over the past couple of months I have been thinking about stopping the rocking to sleep and cuddling because quite frankly he was getting to big to rock and no matter how long I waited to transfer him to his bed…he would wake up. It would take me 45 minutes to an hour to get him to go to bed. Then the nights of not getting him transferred quickly and quietly enough started happening and I was just too tired to care…so he ended up in my bed with me going to sleep at 8 or 8:30.

Then my Mom stepped in this past Sunday and put him to bed and (gasp) walked out of the room…

You see, I had been thinking about moving his room to a little smaller room and right next to my bedroom. It felt more comfortable in there and there was already a full size bed. I thought that maybe if I moved him into a regular bed and got him Star Wars sheets, he would go to sleep on his own. Well, he was definitely excited about the Star Wars and he was excited about the big bed. But he did not go to sleep on his own – or I was really weak and couldn’t let him scream and cry….

I moved all of the bedroom furniture out of the new room, put most of his in there and set it up with a nightstand, bookcase and lamp that he can turn off and on as well as a clock radio. All of this worked amazing well…as long as I slept with him. I just forgot to add my Mom to the mix.

So back to Sunday – she puts him down. He cries and get’s out of bed and comes downstairs. She walks him back up to bed and puts him back in. She comes downstairs. He gets up and cries from the top of the stairs. She gets up and does the song and dance again. He gets up one more time and she does her thing. And he is out.

Not only is he asleep on his own in a big bed but he sleeps through the night. Before, he would wake up at midnight or 3am and come in and sleep with me.

The next night it was my turn. I only had to put him back 4 times. The following was 3. The night after that, I thought he had gotten up so I went upstairs and he was actually still in his bed…he was crying. Tonight, he is in there with about a 5 second cry and out. And it wasn’t even 8:30 yet. Man – I can get a lot done now before I go to bed!

I am proud that I was able to do this. It was Doug who handled these types of things. That held my hand when I had to do them myself. That was there to comfort me. That was there to tell me that it would be alright and it would work.

I am proud of Lido for graduating to that next level.

And I am proud and oh so thankful for my Mom showing me that this could be done.

Daddy fly…

20 October, 2010

Lately Lido is putting it all together…or maybe he is just processing it with an older mind but he says things about Doug. Especially after we went to Portland and went to the airport to see all of our friends and pilots – and helicopters. He was given a tour by a few people who were at his beck and call (bless you) and he enjoyed every moment. He was fascinated by all of the helicopters and the airplanes. At one point, as we looked at a helicopter getting ready to take off, that his Daddy flew these. It was just a brief moment in time. Didn’t last but a few seconds. But that has stuck in his mind ever since. His Daddy flew. Now, every time he sees a helicopter he says ‘Daddy fly’ and waves or maybe just looks up in the sky with these eyes that say so much more than he can.

Daddy fly.

I decided that I needed to talk more about where Daddy was – in simple terms. I used to all the time but stopped because I felt that my grief was becoming his. Now we talk about how Daddy is in the sky and he is watching over us. When I tell him that he thrusts his arm towards the sky and says ‘Daddy fly’. I’m not sure if going back to where we were triggered something in him – distant memories of a one year old now two. Whatever it is, I like it. I like the fact that he is bringing these things up at two. That he is sifting through his memories and trying to make sense of this. You can see it in his face and especially his eyes, the way his body relaxes and he gets a far away look. It makes me believe that he remembers the Daddy that loved him so very much – I know he remembers.

Daddy fly.

This time last year, only a month after the crash, I was trying to plan a life that I knew nothing about. I was trying to control something that was completely out of control. I was in the midst of trying to find a house because all I could think about was getting somewhere where Lido could grow up. That after moving to a place he was unfamiliar with, losing his Daddy, change would cease. It consumed me. I know some people didn’t think that I should be doing what I was doing. That I should give myself time. Not to make big decisions. But that isn’t me. I was so scared that if I rented a place or lived with my Mom that I would sink in a hole and I would never be able to get out. Sinking is not like me – but this situation – this nightmare – would make me sink and I knew that. I also knew that in order to get through all of it – I needed something that I had control over – I needed my space.

There have been times when I have looked back and thought that moving back here was the wrong decision. That I should have stayed there. Stayed by our things. Surrounded by what was familiar then. I felt that I was abandoned here at times. That our friends left me. That the support that I thought that I would have was not here. I thought that I would have been better off out there. I was angry that life went on for everyone else except for me. I felt that I had lost everything and there was no one there for me…to help pick me up.

Then I remembered the moments when a friend would call. A friend would come over and talk or go to dinner with me. I reminded myself that they were grieving to. That they didn’t know what to say to me and the fact that they could come to the house was a true gift – something that sounds so simple was probably one of the most difficult things they have done. I reminded myself that they could not replace Doug.

Going back to where we were also reminded me that even though I would have familiar, I would have so many things that would be too familiar. Hell, just visiting for two weeks I ended up driving by the parking lot in front of the furniture store where the sheriff and school owner met me after I was told on the phone that my husband was dead. This parking lot isn’t even near where I needed to be – I was just trying to get out of traffic and boom – there I was. Looking at it. Wondering if there were any remnants of that day still lingering there. A tear stain. A piece of my heart. Anything.

It was things like this that made me feel more comfortable in my decision to move back to what we had called our home for most of our lives. Or maybe it is a way of protecting myself – pretending like it didn’t happen. I do worry about that aspect. That by being here – in a new house, new surroundings – that I am not in the familiar that he and I knew as a couple and as parents. That I can shove everything away and not quite remember if I don’t want to because it isn’t right in front of me.

Then I remind myself that there are enough things here to remind me of him and also of what was lost. Our son’s second birthday where all of our friends, some of his family, my family came together – not just for Lido – but for Doug. To surround our son with love and happiness and to support me in their own quiet way. I hope they know how eternally grateful I am for that.

A year ago, I was still in shock. The fog that would encase me would come in another month or so. It has not lifted completely. I still cry most every day. It is hard to go out and be around a lot of people. I don’t know what to say to them. I don’t want to be the single one. I want to be married and go home to him. I want to cry out to everyone what has happened and beg that they do not forget. How does my life go on at 36? I got really used to being married. Moving into that frame of mind where you can depend on someone – that you don’t have to know how to fix appliances, or change your tire, or remember where your glasses are – because they are there to do those things. Being shoved back into doing everything on my own, by myself – sucks. Being okay with that is happening slowly. I’m finding the joy in the life that my son and I have – just the two of us.

However, it is still everyday that I cry. That my heart breaks and I try to remember that he is here with us, in us, a part of us and watching over us.

Daddy fly.

25 Months

18 October, 2010

My Darling Child,

You are two years old and one month…It is really hard for me to believe. We celebrated your birthday here at the house and the very next day left for Portland on what would be a remembrance trip for me. But I’ll save that for another day.

Two. You are talking non-stop and love anything train or Star Wars. I decided that you needed to start going to bed by yourself – the rocking to sleep has ceased – which makes me sad in a way but I know that you need to learn that you are good on your own as well. I don’t really get to hold you much although I have noticed that you come to me more often during the day to get hugs or kisses. So it balances out.

We just got back from San Diego where we went on several adventures. I took you to Legoland where you loved the mini-Lego area where they had replicas of Georgetown and Washington Monument and the White House as well as New York, Statue of Liberty and Vegas. You were enthralled. We probably spent a good hour just in that area! We got to go on some rides and you especially loved the airplane ride where I let you sit in the front all by yourself…I sat behind you and hung on to you at first and slowly let go as you screamed in laughter and the thrill of the ride. We went to the USS Midway and spent a good three hours there looking at every plane and helicopter on the flight deck, climbing in and out of several different cockpits and looked at all the boats and ships passing by. We went to Balboa park, where you slept the entire time so I got to do some things that I wanted to do like go to the Museum of Photographic Arts and sit out at the amphitheater and listen to someone practicing the pipe organ hidden behind the walls. Your Nanna joined us after a few days and we went to the zoo where you loved watching the elephants and giraffes. We went to Disney Land but none of us really liked it that much…not what I expected at least. We ate at some great Mexican restaurants and we got to see your Daddy’s family including your Uncle and Aunt. We did so many things each day and you loved all of it.

Traveling by ourselves is getting easier. It was pretty much you and me for the past month traveling by ourselves. It really isn’t that hard other than some sleep deprivation. The hard part to get over is not having your Dad here to share it with. Having to ask strangers to take our picture as they look at us and wonder what the situation is…I want to tell them, tell them that I am not divorced, I’m not a nanny. I’m a widow trying to live life with my son. I just don’t like those looks but at the same time I want everyone in the world to know because I don’t want to lose sight of your Dad.

We do a good job, you and I. It is very relaxed and easy and fun. We have a good time. I’m so thankful that I am able to do these things with you.

You started making funny faces. You stick your fingers in your mouth and pull your mouth wide. It is so funny and you end up cracking yourself up. You are still my helper and you love order. You know how to put your shoes on and take them off. Same with your shirt and pants. Socks give you a little trouble but you get them eventually. You love to have anyone play with you. You are constantly asking ‘play with me?’ as you cock your head to the side and hold out your hand…who can resist. In the mornings you come into bed with me and you press your nose against mine and ask ‘awake?’ and even if I say no…you giggle and ask again. You love butterfly kisses and eskimo kisses. When you kiss me you start with one cheek and then go to the other, then it is my nose, my chin and my forehead and then you say ‘hug’.

Over the past month on our two trips, several people have noted how easy of a kid you seem to be. That you are always happy and just really easy going. I have to agree and am so thankful for this. I’m not sure if I would be this together this past year if you were a difficult or unruly child. You make things easy and fill my sad moments with laughter.

Tonight as we were playing and you came to me for a hug and kiss, I felt this overwhelming sense of love. I fall in love with you more and more each day. You are a brilliant boy and I am so proud of you.

I love you.

In this life and the next,

Your Momom