Trying

Today was Halloween.  Our first without you.  Joey pretty much hung out in his room, so that seemed normal.  Your mom and I went to Sophie's class party.  I led some freeze dance songs and the song "Bear Hunt" and it was fun for the kids and for me.  Before she left your mom played paper dolls with Sophie.  It was good to hear them laugh.  Tonight I took Sophie trick or treating.  Mom joined us for a while.  We returned home and Sophie and I sat on the living room floor and watched spooky cartoons and ate candy.

I'm trying to make this normal for them.  I'm trying to do things we would normally do.  Trying not to work so much at night so that I can engage Sophie as much as she needs.  Trying to talk to Joey about his future and help him make plans.  Trying to smile even when I feel like screaming.  Trying to breathe slowly and nod my head instead of falling to the floor sobbing when I feel that wave of pain wash over me.

Tonight Sophie climbed up on the couch with me, curled up in her blanket, with her head on my lap.  She gently sucked her thumb and stared up at me for a few minutes.  Then she said "What does it look like in heaven?"

She's been doing this some.  She's processing all of this in her own way and I'm giving her the information and the support she needs in a supply and demand fashion.  We talked about it for a few minutes.  I had to confess that I didn't really know much about heaven because the Bible isn't specific.  She said "Well I can't even read a book like that so how am I supposed to know?"  *giggle*  That?  That sass she gets from you.  She wants to understand, but this is tough. 

Our conversation:

Sophie: What does it look like in heaven?
Me: *Making up a bunch of shit because the Bible is a little vague on the specifics.* It's hard to say exactly but we'll have new bodies that aren't sick and we'll be happy. We will get to see people that have already gone to heaven and we will know them. It's a pretty amazing place and I bet that it is beautiful.
Sophie: Will there be stores?
Me: Well, I don't know really. The Bible doesn't really say.
Sophie: Well, I can't even read a book like that. How am I supposed to know?
Me: I can tell you what I know! Some say there will be big beautiful mansions there. That sounds nice.
Sophie: It's not fair that daddy got to go there first!
Me: *........*
Sophie: First daddy goes and then second it will probably be you.
Me: *laughing nervously* Well, that's probably how it will go but not for a long, long time.
Sophie: So, who's going to take care of me?
Me: I will take care of you!
Sophie: What about when you go to heaven? Who will take care of me?
Me: Hopefully you will be all grown up before that happens and you'll be able to take care of yourself. I will still miss you and you will still miss me but you'll be all grown up and will be okay.
Sophie: I always want you to take care of me.

Wow.

I'm trying.  I'm trying to reassure her that I'll be here for a long, long time. I'm trying to help her understand that most grown ups don't die at 45.  Trying to be enough for both you and I.  Trying to say and be everything that she and Joey need.

Trying to just keep breathing.
Trying to just keep sleeping and waking up.
Trying to just live.

And it sucks.

Empty Chairs and Water Bottles

Yesterday.  This is the empty chair beside me in church.  The one that you sat in.  The one that you sat in and held my hand.  Church was tough.  Greg preached and did a great job (as always) and talked about hope.  At one point near the end of the service they sang a song and he invited people down to the front to ring a bell to show "I'm not dead yet!  I'm alive!  I have hope!"

Wow.  I know I needed to hear that, but wow.  It took me most of the song to move, but I did it.  I walked up in front of all of those people that I KNOW were staring at me and rang the bell as my eyes burned and my chest pounded.

You know those big water bottles that you saved and refilled?  Well, I hate them.  You knew that.  Just seemed gross or something.  I don't know.  Well, I threw one of them away today, because...well....I hate them and you aren't here to save them.  Within an hour I felt bad.  Really bad.  Over a water bottle.  A damn, dirty, shouldn't have ever been recycled, gas station water bottle.  This?  This is the crazy that I am wading through right now.  This is why I am

A few days ago, this popped up in my news feed and Timehop:

Is this one of those signs that I was waiting for?  God's perfect timing?  I don't know, but I can hear you saying this.  I know you struggled, but you always had hope.  I must admit that sometimes I feel like I'm hanging on these words and the hoping you were talking about like a cartoon character hanging onto the end of the boat being thrown all over the place.  It feels like tidal waves of pain are smashing into me and I'm just holding on.  Barely holding on.  I can't wait to see you again.  I can't wait to feel your arms around me and to hear you say "Hey, baby!"  I can't even imagine how incredible that will be.

Perhaps what I'm feeling is more than hope.  Perhaps this is just an insatiable longing for my REAL home.  I know I will see you again.  I know I will hold your hand again.  I know.  

Right now?  Right now I just have hope that I can live through the tidal waves.

We Three Kings

I guess that from the middle of September to the middle of October is when the REAL autumn like weather appeared.  In September we went into the hospital with 95 degree days and this week we are in the 30s and 40s.  I remember how much you loved this time of year and loved the chilliness of the evenings.

You told me how much your mom loved this time growing up and how you would sit outside under gray skies in the cold pretending to hunt witches or chase bad guys in the apartments where you grew up.  We would often find time to sit outside and "chill" just a little.  I miss you.  So much.

I miss cuddling up with you and giggling in the cold.
I miss laughing at the kids one second and marveling at them the next.
I miss talking about movies.
I miss your warm hand in mine as we drive down the road.

Yesterday was Spooky Dinner.  Remember how much fun we had planning what to make?  Well, I just made punch this year.  It was really just about all that I could do.  I dressed up because I knew that Sophie would love that.  I pretended that I was fine.  I was not.

I drove the kids home and really wished you were there so that we could chat about the evening and who was there and what tasted the best and I don't know....just chat.

Today we went to Beggs' Family Farm and Lamberts.  It was incredibly cold.  Brrrr!  I missed you at Lambert's.  I just missed chatting with you and listening to you talk to everyone else.  I missed watching you hold Sophie's hand as we walked in and coaching Joey through the menu.  We did okay.  Joey and Sophie were fine and the meal was pleasant enough.  Joey made a spectacular roll catch!  (Over the log in the ceiling even!)

The farm had several new attractions that Sophie and Charlie loved.  Joey got kettle corn (which I think he always gets) and drove Sophie around in the peddle buggy things.  Sophie was insistent that she go in the haunted house.  I'm sure you wouldn't be surprised to learn that she did great.  This child is not afraid of anything!

After the farm, I needed to stop in Cape to spend some Kohl's cash.  On the way there we passed the theater.  It has been totally renovated. It has been painted (a drastic change!) and the awesome dream lounger sign is up.  For just a few seconds I was SO excited and couldn't wait to tell you that I saw it and to plan our trip to see Thor next weekend.

It really was like a physical kick to my chest.  Almost as soon as I started to feel that happy, excited feeling it was smashed out of me.  I kind of covered my physical reaction with a cough, but I was really shaken.

Every day.  Every day there's so much that I want to tell you.  So many ways that I need you.

At Kohl's I was haunted just thinking about walking through there and exploring the kitchen section with you.  I loved how we always talked about our "dream kitchen" there and how we would fill it with the coolest gadgets and gizmos.  Tonight I walked through the aisles wearing my sadness like a dark, heavy cloak.  My chest was heavy so I had to concentrate on breathing.

This is hard.  This is so hard.

I know you want me to be okay.  I know you want me to love the kids fiercely and continue on.  You've said it more than once.  I remember once just out of the blue you said "If I die before you, I know you'll be fine.  You are amazing.  It's okay to miss me, but don't miss out on life either."  I don't feel fine, Jas.  I feel awful.  I feel broken and scared.

Each time you said stuff like that, it always felt a little morbid or something.  I realized then as I do now that you wanted to leave nothing unsaid.  I really am thankful for that.  I've told some in the last week that we didn't have anything that needed to be said or any "unfinished business".  We talked about everything.  We told each other how we felt about each other often and said "I love you" many times a day.  I am incredibly thankful.

I realized yesterday, sitting on the couch opening cards from all over the place that my family was once again "We Three Kings".  Remember how we used that on our Christmas cards before Sophie's miraculous appearance?  I'm not sure what I felt when I realized that.  Irony?  I don't know.  Despair?  Probably.

That picture of us on the swing?  That's me, trying to find a new normal, trying to celebrate our love by fiercely loving the kids, trying to keep traditions alive.  That's me with my heart broken without you by my side.  This is hard.

Sons of Bitches

It's been a week.  A very long, very emotional, very exhausting week.

Well, today really sucked.  I went to the Social Security office to transfer benefits to Sophie.  She's getting about half of what you received.  It's fine I guess.  God has blessed us with the means to take care of the kids in other ways.  That was just a little disappointing.  This printout was also pretty awful to see.  I mean, I know that our marriage was dissolved when one of us died, but looking at this in black and white was overwhelming.  This is not how it was supposed to be.

The funeral home STILL hasn't filed the report of your death in the computer.  He told me he was doing that when we left on Friday.  Nope.  So I filed what I could and the SS office will follow up next week.  AND the funeral home printed the wrong obituary in the paper.  I am really unhappy with the way they have handled things.  Disrespectful, incompetent....I could go on.  They are making this even worse.

I drove to the cemetery this afternoon just to see how things were.  It was odd.  I went alone and everything was so quiet and peaceful there.  I could her the birds chirping and hear the grass blowing in the wind.  I looked at your grave for a few minutes before I realized that I wasn't feeling anything.

I just stared at it matter-of-factly thinking to myself "I'm glad he's not really here."  I didn't cry or scream like I thought I might.  I didn't throw myself down on your grave and make mud angels crying out to God in anguish.  I just stood there, looking down, not really reacting. 

The flowers were soggy and starting to wilt.  Your awesome ribbon had already started fading and a small metal sign had your name and 1972-2017 on it.  One of the letters was drawn on in permanent marker and the funeral home had all of its information on it.  Sons of bitches.  I'm finding something else to put there.  I don't know what, but not that.

The Next Hardest Day

It was hard to move today.  It was hard to get out of bed and into the shower.  It was hard to start today.  Today is the first day of me moving on without you.

I drove alone to a pumpkin patch in Perryville.  It was Sophie's first field trip and she was so excited that I was going.  It was weird driving alone.  Being alone.  Sophie had fun.  I kind of went through the motions.  It was cold and a bit gray.  It matched my mood.

I went to see Dr. Robbins because I had missed appointments while you were in the hospital.  I cried.  I could hardly look at him.  He was sad and consoling.  Sensitive.  He insisted I take something to help with my nerves even if I never used it.

Finally at home, Sophie's tooth began hurting and all she could do was cry.  So, alone, I handled the first emergency without you.  I missed you every single step of the way.  I needed your advice.  I needed your strength.  God, Jas.  I need you so much.

There are friends checking in on me via the phone or video messaging.  They won't know how much they are carrying me right now.

Today was really the next hardest day.  As I cuddled with a now pain-free Sophie, I had just the tiniest sense that maybe I could do this.  Then I burst into tears.

I don't want to do this.

Waiting for a Sign

Last night was the first REAL night.  You know, the first real night that the three of us were just here. 

I opened cards, browsed emails, cried.  There are so many flowers in the house.  There is so much fried chicken in the house.

Sophie is sleeping in your spot in our bed.  I don't know if it is best or not but I'm glad she's there.  Joey is still sleeping.  He was pretty quiet last night.

I didn't sleep well last night.  Not at all.  I've had several friends contact me and tell me to look for signs that you are still with us.  They've said that they had experienced things that comforted them.  One had some funny things happen with electronics, another felt a touch when no one was there and another kept finding gifts that reminded her of a personal joke she and her hubby shared.

I kept waking up hoping for some kind of sign.  Was the iPad thing your way of letting me know that you were okay?  Is that even possible?  I wanted you to appear to me in my dreams or to find a secret letter you had left me or hear a message or something.  I don't know. 

I was just restless waiting for some kind of sign from you.

The Funeral - Walking Away

This morning it was easy to walk into the funeral home.  I wanted to see you and touch you and ask you in some way to help me get through this.  Remember after some of the funerals that we attended we would have wild, life-affirming sex?  Yeah....that didn't happen last night.  I ate pizza and cried and thought about all of the things I wouldn't be doing with you again.

When I woke Sophie up this morning the first thing she said was "What are we going to do today?"  LOL....haven't we heard that EVERY morning for the last few years?  Here's our conversation:

Me: Sophie, it's time to get up. 
Sophie: What are we going to do today?
Me: Today is daddy's funeral. We will get more hugs from people that love us and then there will be a service where people say some things and we listen to a few songs. Then we will look at daddy's body one last time. Then we will drive to the cemetery because that's where daddy's body will stay. He doesn't need it any more. 
Sophie: You know that talking part of the service? I'm pretty sure that I'll need to go out to that little room and play with the girls instead.
Me (laughing): Yeah, I know but you'll have to sit by me.
Sophie: (deep sigh) What else will we do today?
Me: Well after the cemetery we will come back to town and have lunch.
Sophie (raising her eyebrows): I like that part.

I know.  She gets it honest, doesn't she?

We arrived before everyone else and I pulled up a chair to sit near the casket.  I ran my fingers over yours and traced the letters on your shirt.  I smoothed your hair and gently touched your mustache.  I ran my finger over your eyebrows and remembered how you told me that as a boy your mom would gently stroke your eyelids to help you fall asleep.  Your love for her was amazing, solid and pure.  You were as devoted to her as she was to you.

Much to what I'm sure would have been your dismay, I took a few pictures this morning while I was in the room alone.  I don't need to look at them now, but someday I might want too.  You look like you.  Well, with a skinny nose and bad lipstick, but other than that...you looked like you.

A few people came in this morning that couldn't come in last night.  We hugged and cried.  I'm sure I said things to them, but I don't really remember what I said.  Then it was time.  I just couldn't pull myself away.  I knew that after the service started that they would take you away and I just wasn't sure about that.  Jasper helped.  Okay, he had to almost pull me away but I didn't make a scene.

Then what happened next was pretty beautiful.  The service started with "Lead Me to Rest" by Acapella.  It probably seemed weird to some people since your visitation playlist was worship music and just a touch of metal but I know how much you loved this song.  Jasper read your obituary including the phrase "paroled to Jesus" like you wanted and then shared stories about college and his great love for you.  Bryan delivered the message.  He's so great at what he does.  It helped.  I don't think it will help forever, but today there was just a little bit of peace after that.

The service ended with "I Can Only Imagine".  Whew.  What the hell was I thinking?  All I could do was ugly sob.  My love for you seemed to leak out of my eyes and my heart raced hoping that everything I believe about heaven is true.  I could see you in the hospital bed struggling to just exist.  I could see you in the dark whispering my name in that sexy growl.  I could see you walking into church with the kids at your side.  I could hear you say "...and then don't be afraid to parole me to Jesus.  You'll be fine and I'll be better."

I think it was at that moment that my broken heart could take absolutely no more.  I lifted my hands praising God for giving you to me and at the same time screaming silently for Him to take me too.  Then I felt Joey put his hand on me and Sophie nuzzle my arm.  God's timing.

Joey is grown up and learning to be the kind of man you've modeled all of his life.  He's seen you lead.  He's seen you fail.  He's seen you ask for forgiveness and boldly speak love and acceptance to him.  Sophie is optimistic and a bundle of sunshine.  She misses your cuddles and playing with you.  I think she has your imagination and I know she has your heart.  Perhaps they are at just the right age to help me live without you physically by my side.

When the service was over, the parade of love began.  The parade of love is painful and sweaty and suffocating and beautiful.  So many tears, baby.  So many hearts that you've touched.  Joey sat sternly beside me and Sophie lifted her arms to each person that walked by to embrace them.  She was a cute little hugging machine.

Then it was just us.  The front row.  The inner circle.  Those closest to you.

You mother's heart was broken.  Your kids had tears streaming down their faces.  Family watched helplessly to the side.  Oh my god.  I've never physically felt such emotional pain before.

For a few minutes I just stared.  I wanted so bad to touch your lips one more time, but wow....creepy as fuck.  I kissed my fingers and touched them to your lips.  I touched your eyebrows and stroked your hair again as my tears fell on you.  Then it was time to go.  Time to walk away and never see your actual face again.

I leaned down and brushed my lips against yours.
Then I turned and walked away from the very best years of my life.

Graveside with No Panties

A beautiful day.  It was a drive you would have enjoyed.  It was cool outside, but sunny and the trees were holding on to their color beautifully.  It had rained last night so the bridge that has a couple of inches of water over it had a few more inches over it.  It didn't bother us, but I'm sure some that have never been there before were a bit hesitant to cross.  

There was a tent set up near dad's grave and the little funeral folding chairs were set up.  I had to sit in one.  It didn't seem real.  I mean, it was real, but that I was the widow.  I was the bereaved.  I had to sit in one of those chairs.  In one of THOSE chairs.

Unfortunately, the chairs were sitting uphill and so when I sat in them I reclined a bit.  Not good.  Angie told me that she would hold the chair so I didn't tip over and I made a joke about how funny that would be since I wasn't wearing panties.  I obviously said that a little too loud as a few people nearby heard it.  I replied "Well, it's what Jason would have wanted."  I totally had panties on, just FYI but you can pretend I didn't if it helps in any way.

Bryan told a story about a little boy that cut through a cemetery each day on his way home from school.  When the other kids asked him why he did that he replied "It's just on my way home."  I was thankful for just a moment after that story.  Thankful that I would get to see you again and that you would feel better.  Is there frisky welcome to heaven sex?  I'm going to hope so.

I thought the casket looked pretty in the sunlight.  I know you liked it here.  You had commented often about how peaceful it was as you listened to me moan and groan about having to mow it as a teenager.  It's a good place to lay your old body to rest.  I spent a good portion of the drive back to the funeral home imagining what you might be doing in your new one.

When we got home from the hospital a few days ago it was very important to Joey that we get in touch with your brother, Tony.  He was insistent and asked several times.  He was really glad to have him attend the funeral too.  He's a kind man and I'm glad he had a chance to connect with the kids.  I know you would have liked that too.

I'm already bothered by the way I say "You would have...." and then whatever.   I hate it so much.  I miss you so much.  I guess that it is a way that I can still include you.  What happens when I stop using that?  Will I?  I feel like I'm in some kind of stupor right now.  I can't imagine what happens from here.

I remember the times we talked about it.  I remember that you said "You'll be sad but you'll do what you have to do.  That's who you are."  I want to think that's true.  I'm thankful that you said those things now.  I didn't want to hear them then, but now they are like guideposts in my mind. I think that you knew me better than I know myself.  If that's true, what do I do now?