Archive for September 2011

My Dearest 3 year old

16 September, 2011

My Dearest Child,

You are three years old today. Officially at 11:09pm…

How you brighten my world. Today, I spent some time with you at school and brought cupcakes with pink icing and sprinkles (both requested by you) & we had your celebration of life with your classmates. You were so excited in your ‘I’m so excited I’m about to burst but I won’t really let you know that I’m that excited’ way that you have about you. We shared pictures of you as a newborn, then at 1 and again at 2. I honestly didn’t know if I would be able to make it through without bursting into tears but I think I got a lot of those tears out yesterday so I had my composure in check today. You showed me around your classroom and you want me to come back and spend time with you there again. You just really made it all so wonderful for me today.

You were excited about your birthday presents and you broke down crying because you couldn’t ride your new bike to dinner…but you did wear your helmet!

You are at a point where you are starting to make up stories, ‘read’ your books and I just see your imagination growing and growing every day. This is such and exciting time as a parent. It’s such a lovely time as a parent. I love when you are really loving a moment and you just come up to me and give me a hug just to let me know that you are happy. And you are so very very happy.

I think that we were given you for a reason. You somehow roll with the punches in an amazing way. You are such a great kid and a fun kid and a loving kid. I don’t know how I would have made it through the past 2 years with you being any other way.

It breaks my heart still and it will always break my heart that your Dad is not here to see you growing and changing. I can hear his voice and responses to you in certain situations and I just sit back and smile – imagining what it would be like. I know he would be having so much fun with you and he would be telling others that it is ‘just damn cool’ to be a Dad. He just couldn’t wait to see you, meet you & to have that name of Dad. He would be so proud of you.

Today, after we got home from school, I let you have a cupcake and put 3 candles on it and set up the video camera, lit the candles and sat with you and sang ‘happy birthday’ to you. That’s what we did for you 2 years ago. I still watch that video sometimes. To hear your Dad’s voice, to see you at that age. After I was done singing, I asked you who else wanted to tell you ‘happy birthday’ and you yelled Daddy! He loves you so much my darling son.

We are leaving tomorrow for Montana. My Uncle John is nearing his death and it is a matter of days. Timing couldn’t suck worse but I think that the universe is pushing me in a direction that I’ve had some problems with the past 2 years…spreading some of your Dad’s ashes. I’ve been toting around a small plastic container of some of his ashes on most every trip I’ve been on for the past 2 years…and none have been released to this date. I knew I wanted to spread some at Yellowstone because that place is special to us (where he proposed) but I haven’t ever gotten around to actually feeling like the moment is right. So, while we are in Montana you and I are going to head to Yellowstone on my birthday and we are going to release some of your Dad’s ashes at Undine Falls. It was named for wise, usually female water spirits who lived around waterfalls and who could gain souls by marrying mortal men. I did gain my soul when I met your Dad. I learned so much about life from him when he was alive and have learned even more after his death. So, we will release a bit of him back there…where it began.

I would like the universe to note that I am listening to it and doing this – so please give me a break here in the near future. I’m a bit tired of this shit.

My darling son, you are part of my soul and part of my fiber. I will always love you and I am so proud to be your Mom. My heart is filled by your love and by the person you are.

Always your Momom.

In this life and the next.



My Uncle John

15 September, 2011

The year after Doug died, I had several conversations with my Uncle John. Conversations that I never would have imagined would happen between the two of us. Not because we didn’t get along but simply because we just didn’t have many of ‘those’ conversations. The thing that surprised me the most about these conversations was…John. You see, most of the time I heard him talking as a doctor – which he is – a radiation oncologist to be exact – and what we were talking about was so outside my perspective of him that it was mainly the fact that it was ‘him’ who was talking to me that was so surprising…He even surprised me by posting on this blog…I didn’t  know he even read it…

I’m so thankful that I got to know another side of him and I’m so grateful to him for the conversations that we had after Doug died. I still think about things that he has said to me, especially when I feel as if I’m at my lowest. His words and his beliefs that he has shared with me have helped me. His words to Doug before we got married and the reminder of the safe of rifles and hand guns he kept…reminded me that my family is kind of funny…

My Mom and I are getting ready to head out to see you John. I think she was a little leery of going because of the time of year this is for me. One of the best moments of my life – Lido being born – and the worst time of my life – Doug’s death. But I know that I would regret not seeing you again. To tell you thank you.

Just in case you decide that you’d like to leave this realm before we make it up there, thank you for being my Uncle. Thank you for supporting me and for our conversations. Last night I asked Doug to meet you on the other side, I know you have others waiting there but I asked him to maybe come to you and walk with you. This is your own journey but you do not need to be alone and I know you won’t be. Thank you John, with all my heart. And much love to you. You will always be in my heart.

Seven Days

12 September, 2011

My Dearest,

Three years ago today, I was home on maternity leave and we were anxiously awaiting the arrival of our son. I had an accupuncture appointment on this day hoping that would help get things to move along and Lido would make his grand entrance. He wouldn’t arrive for four more days. During this time you were working like crazy, flying a ton and getting ready to take a few days off to enjoy your newborn (whenever he came).

Two years ago today, we were out at Cannon Beach, enjoying a day to ourselves – just the 3 of us. We had a wonderful breakfast sitting outside and then went to the park where you took Liam for his first trip down the slide. He loved the swings and loved how high you would push him. We walked the beach and took a nap on the sand. I laid my head on your chest and watched the waves roll in and out and watched our son sleeping in his stroller – listened to you breathing, listened to your heart beat. Held your hand. Kissed your neck.

This is so hard. I feel like I’m breaking. This past year, I have kept so much busier with things around here and with the foundation but with all of that, I haven’t grieved like I did the first year. Now, approaching the second anniversary seems so much harder than last year. I know it is because life took on a little more ‘life’ this year…and remembering what once was is like a stab in the heart, a melting of the defenses built to protect, wanting to give my life for yours. I just want you back.

I know I’ve said this before and it is so hard to explain but it just does not seem real. I constantly feel as if I’m walking around as a shadow in a dream world. That this whole thing is not real. How could it be? The times when this feeling is overwhelming me, I wonder if I’m not just in a coma. I wonder if something bad has really happened to me and all of this is just happening in my head. I just feel so hollow.

We had Lido’s birthday party this past weekend. I decided to have it the weekend before his actual birthday because I thought it would be easier to get through…I think the universe has given me a definitive answer – No. Lido came down with a fever Thursday night. By Friday he was off and on with high temps. Saturday morning came and I called/emailed people to make their own decision as to come or not. A lot of people came but didn’t get to see Lido. After I set his cake out on the table, he wanted people to sing to him. After that he said lets cut the cake and the moment a piece was sat in front of him, he looked at me and told me he didn’t feel good. He spent the rest of the party in bed with a fever. When we were setting up for the party (thank you to my brother in law and sister in law) it was gorgeous outside…then the storm came, drenched all the crepe paper hanging to make it look like we were under the ocean…I guess the rain made it a little more realistic…then during the party a picture of Doug was knocked off and the glass broken and about 3 minutes after that a friend’s little girl got some food caught and was choking…All is alright. Picture can be put in another frame and the child was fine. Later that night and I looked up to see a full moon. I think next year, his party will be closer to his birthday – damn the dates involved!

I used to love the fall. Fell in love in the fall. Got married in the fall. Had my son in the fall. My birthday is in the fall.

It’s so hard to hold onto the fact that so much of my life began in the fall but my life was also taken in the fall. My future was taken. My husband’s life and future was taken. And then to have the holidays follow so soon after – ahhh – who the hell am I kidding. Every day just sucks. It’s not fair.

35 Months

7 September, 2011

My Dearest Lido,

I’ve been doing a crap-ass job in keeping up with these monthly letters to you…Not on time but I’m here and there is so much to say.

First, I absolutely and completely love you. You are so utterly amazing and kind and loving. You have the most brilliant smile which is contagious. You are thoughtful, funny and you have an ease about you. The universe gave you to me for a reason.

Second, you are changing so utterly fast. I look at you and can barely remember my life without you. Your Dad and I used to say that when you came – you just fit. We didn’t have to adjust (other than the lack of sleep). We just fell right into it all – all of us. Including you.

School has started for you and you are loving it. I’m so thankful to have found this place for you. You love learning and come home with new things each day. We are carpooling with a friend a few days a week, which is really nice, and I think you like being able to pick up your friend and have them pick you up. This year I decided to have you in school all week…but I really do miss our Friday Momom and Lido days…After the summer, I really do miss having you here with me. It is easier shopping and getting things done around the house goes much quicker. However, I miss you during the day. We’ll see if you continue with being at school all 5 days…although you do have a LOT of time off! It may even out. I just want you to know though, that I do miss you.

You are starting to ‘read’ your books. You have a couple of them memorized and it is just too cute and wonderful to hear you reading in bed. You still think you know everything and I don’t see that changing much over the years…and sometimes it makes for something funny. The other day you asked me what ‘that’ was and I said it is a globe. You said: “no it’s not it’s a glope”. You were quite adamant about the fact that it was a glope and not a globe. Lately you are asking me what things are and then answering before I can answer you – showing me how much you really know. It’s almost like a small little stepping stone – you used to ask because you didn’t know, now you ask because you want me to know that you do indeed know.

Every night as of late, after we read a book, you ask me to tell you about your Dad. Sometimes it is a long story, other times, just a small thought that may come to me about him. You do miss him.

We are doing okay kid. Every day brings something that is a reminder of the unfairness of it all. It is unfair for you, for me & for your Dad. You seem wise beyond your few years and I wish that I could take all of this away and give you your family back. Give you what you deserve, what we deserve. However, we are here. Just you and me. And we’ll make the best of it…

Your birthday is coming up and we are having a small party this weekend. I asked you today what you would like for your birthday and you said ‘snacks’. We talked yesterday about taking cupcakes to your classroom for your birthday so you are thinking food…and then I asked what kind of present you wanted. I think I’ll get you one of those skateboard things with handles. You rocked on it at your Grandpa’s house so that’s what your getting this year. Your outgrowing the Y-bike and I was thinking about getting you a regular bike or maybe a 3 wheel bike of some sort…We’ll see.

I love you my sweet.

In this life and the next,

Your Momom