Out...

Today has been a little easier, I went out with friends to lunch and a movie. It was nice going out and getting away, but I found my self talking about him lots. I don't think it would have bothered me, or I would have even noticed except the night before I had found a forum for widows. It helped to read about others dealing with the same issues, but several said their friends seemed to pull away, almost because they were tired of hearing the talk about the one they lost.

It just got me thinking, how could anyone who knew you and your lost one be tired of hearing of them? I am sure some stories would be repeated, however when I mentioned him it was usually in response to something we were discussing anyway. I don't think people realize part of the horrifying realty of this type of loss is the worry that people would forget him. My biggest worry is that my youngest won't remember as much about him. I feel like I need to retell his stories so I can always retell them to my kids. It is why when people ask what they can do I tell them to send my their memories of him written down.

I feel like my emotions come out when I write. I can express how I feel when I write, but I feel like this computer is consuming me. I search it for answers, comfort, support, things that just won't come from staring at a screen. There is so much that needs to be done and that I should be working on, but I feel like I am pulled online, whether as a release or to vent, or to keep me busy so I don't dwell on the things that hurt.

A few too many bad days

I am tired of hearing it will get easier with time... I feel like it is getting worse lately, and not just my emotions. My kids are pushing me, harder and harder it seems. I can't expect them to help with anything, unless I yell, cry, or call a family member to come be the bad guy. The kids and I always had our ups and downs, but there were two of us... he mediated between me and my similar personality child, and I did the same for him with the similar personality child. Now I just clash with both. These teens are now pushing and taking advantage of my weak moments, and doing things they would not ordinarily do. I want to throttle them.

Then there are my blow ups, they can be mad and yell and stomp off, but then have the nerve to be annoyed if I don't come home pleasant to them... they are not my husband and can't say that to me, they are the children and have to listen to me... I am trying to deal with it, but am struggling with how lately.

I feel awful because I blew up, swore, yelled freaked out... I took away an outing to swim... but then when I was getting ready to leave because I needed space, heard them fighting... I couldn't leave them alone to kill each other... so I gave in and we went swimming. Then dumb me let one of the pouting teens leave. What the hell was I thinking? How could I be so dumb? I am shaking I am so mad right now.

This all came after a late night of not sleeping... which contributed to a bad day at work, overtired and overemotional, broke down when a song came on the radio, then freaked out at the kids when I got home. They are not contributing and doing thier chores, which they never would have gotten away with had he been here. Then I blew up, and not nice, I was mean, a me I never want to see again. But one thing I said in that rage stuck with me, and I know it is true. My oldest was being a smart ass and said "Ask me nice" I lost it then even more. I said everyone else has had a turn to be mad, mad at me, mad at the world, mad at others... It was my turn to be mad. I needed to be mad, just not at the kids. While they were in school I would scream and yell and be mad then, It has been a week and a half, with them around, and I didn't mean to be mad at them, but I was. It was just all the things that lead up to it, a new bed broken, an inappropriate outfit trying to slip out of the house, jobs not even touched, and no effort to get ready for things I was planning.

I realized too late I took it out on the wrong people, and went into the garage and punched his punching bag, I hurt my hand and went in and told the kids to get ready... I figured we needed a fresh start with the night... so we will see how it ends.

Let the floods begin...

Because I posted earlier about my lack of emotion, now I feel the flood coming at every little memory. I have called these accidental memories, the little things that set me off as I come across them unexpected... I want to get my basement set up so that I have his flag and his awards set up so I have an intentional place of remembrance for him.

His boss called today and was able to get me 4 recording of him talking with customers, I recognized the number, but couldn't place it, it bothered me how fast I had forgotten it. I hate thinking "he would like this" because I can't even discuss it with him. I hate going somewhere and hearing them try to calculate numbers, because he would have had it figured out by the time they had typed the first number into the calculator. I hate listening to music and wondering who it was, he would have known and laughed at me for not knowing. I hate Harry Potter now, we would always fall asleep watching them and discuss what bugged us about the movies compared the the books... I haven't watched or read Harry Potter since, except when I took the kids to the new movie. I hate being alone. Sure I have the kids, but I miss talking to him, to my companion, how could he have left me?

I think I am dealing with it ok, and I'm functioning ok, then I get so mad at him for not being here, for not taking better care of himself, for not letting me be there and go to the doctor with him. I hate people pretending they knew him or knew how close we were, even other widows that think they are helping or think they know what I am going through. They don't realize all that he and I went through, we grew up together, we were together so young, we were closer than I think anyone ever realized, no one knew him, or understood him like I did, and the same went for him. No one knew me like him, he knew every side of me. My private self, my public self, the nice me, the naughty me. There is no one that will ever know me as well as he did, or ever will. I feel so alone. Not even my family or my kids know me. I have lost all the closest people to me, my mom, then my husband, in less than 3 years. My sister has been awesome, so have my close friends, but it is not the same. Part of me is missing, my better half that made me who I am, that made our children who they are, how am I suppose to continue that without him?

I think that is part of why I write to cope with this, because I have kept this pretty anonymous I feel I can write exactly how I feel. There is no other way to feel I can write with this raw emotion if I worried people would read this and judge me. Even still I find myself holding back, where I wouldn't with him.

It's not even the emotional longing for him that is hard, I miss touching him, sex, his touch, teasing each other, messing around in bed and fighting over dumb things, like him poking me, or farting on me, or if I would tickle his ear and it would make him shutter.

I told you the flood is coming, I can't seem to stop now, I miss him so much and I physically ache for him, I don't understand how god could take someone so important to me away from me, from our kids, and so young, he was such a good man, he had so much more to offer. And I know that is me being selfish, because he was in so much pain, emotionally and physically, and he would only let me know of such a small portion of it, and I did my best to help, but I know he was bearing much more than anyone should have to be put through, but he did, he did for his family. And silly me expected him to do it... perhaps if I wasn't so demanding he would still be here.

I hurt, I am in so much constant pain with this huge part of my life missing, but I hurt even worse when I see my kids hurting. They are young and will get through this, but why should they have to? Why should god have to test them with something as hard as this?

I hate being alone, so much that late at night I wonder if I will find someone else... then I feel so guilty for even thinking that, and I just ache more. I hate being alone, I hate not having him, I hate having to put on this false face everyday to show the kids we can get through this. I sometimes think this is the only reason I am getting through this, by putting on my false face and showing the kids we can do this.

You hear these things that god takes people who have served their purpose in their life... so what did god need him back so quickly for? what purpose does he have for him? I also hear god doesn't give us trials we can't handle, so what the hell have I done to show I can handle all these things in my life? a teenage pregnancy and young marriage, which we did, with 16 years of marriage and 4 children later that would have continued for years more. Then he takes my mom at only 55, I got through this thanks to my loving husband. I got through all these trial why the hell does he think I need to got through losing him as well? Haven't I dealt with enough? Perhaps I am not strong enough yet? If I prove I am strong is god just going to torture me more? I am not sure what else I can handle...

Numb...

I haven't posted on here for a while because I was getting ready for the holidays, but also because I think with so much going on with Christmas and stuff, I have gotten kinda numb again. I think it is the mind and body's way of helping myself recover a little so I can be there for my kids.

For a while I had to hold it in until the kids left for school, then I would lose it in the shower, which is great for washing away the tears. But the last week or so I have just felt kinda numb. That is the best word to describe how I am feeling. I have been close to losing it, even felt the tears start building up, but they never fell. The only time I have lost it even a little is when the kids lost it at the cemetery on Christmas, and when his grandma was asking how we were doing.

I feel guilty feeling this numb, where I am usually being teased for what a boob I am crying at movie previews even, I feel I have not shed enough tears for the loss of my husband. I tell myself it is just because I need to be strong for the kids, but then I worry I am going to break down and lose it when I am least prepared. Then I look back at events leading up to it and i think I knew as well, and had been preparing myself for this, but then I feel guilty if I had known why didn't I do more to prevent it? Maybe I have just hit a point where I am thinking to logically about it and therefore avoiding the emotional which I am so accustomed to.

Even now while I am writing about this which is hard for me to focus on and deal with, and usually I am crying over the keyboard, I am simply typing my thoughts, with little emotion spilling out. Does that make me cold? Perhaps he is just here with me helping me through it knowing how I hated how emotional I would get and is simply holding me together.

A good friend gave me an awesome gift that was very thought out. A full keyboard which I can carry around with me, and type my thoughts while I am out. Then simply plug it into the computer to download it onto my blogs and such. Perhaps with my writing being more accessible I can get back to my emotional writing.

The Little Things

I think I have come to terms pretty good with our loss. I am not saying it has gotten easier, or that I don't miss him. I have just accepted the fact he is gone from us right now, and I have to learn how to do this alone for now. I find I am coping well, and I am strong for my kids until something catches me off guard, or something small that reminds me of him catches my eye. At the DMV they were going through the screens of my previous license and I saw my old Driver's license pic, and I lost it. He had always loved that pic of me, and my haircut in that picture. It had been stolen.

The other hard part that I have gotten good at coping with in front of others is that initial reaction when someone he knew finds out. He made friends EVERYWHERE. The grocery store, Kmart, the Schwans man. It is hard to see their reaction when they find out... I almost have to make it into a business transaction mentally... then I get in the car and lose it. I don't think he realized what an impact he had on so many people.

That look of pity seems to get worse the closer we get to the holidays, I love the sincerity of people who truly have lost someone close and know what we are going through, they understand it is okay to talk about him, and that helps in healing. And the look isn't of pity, it is empathy because they truly know what we are going through. The pitying looks are hard to deal with, They are the people I avoid.

People...GRRR

I am one of those people who tend to think the world revolves around me most of the time. However being an adult, I have learned it only does this on rare occasions, and then I need to step back and realize there are other people, who have their own issues as well. That being said I do get where some of these "people" I refer to are coming from... but then again they are people who are close to us, so I don't.

As I said before as an adult I have realized that the world doesn't only revolve around me, but as a parent, I feel it should still on occasion revolve around my children. This trying time with our lose especially. They are what keeps me going, I need to know they will be okay. That is why these last couple days with silly people have bothered me.

The first: I was told I have to answer my phone when certain people call. I am dealing with a HUGE loss, honestly I don't HAVE to do anything, I chose to go to work so I can keep my job, I chose to take my children to where they need to go because I think it is important for them. And if I choose to not answer the phone while I am having an especially hard day I should not be given grief for it. I do understand your concern, and if it is important, leave me a message so I know what I am responding to. But since the 12th of November my phone rings continually, and I do have other things that need to be done other then repeating myself over and over again, answering the same questions everyone asks. I do understand you are just checking on me, and seeing how I am doing, but if you require a return call, TELL ME.

The second: Because of not talking or making time to be with someone, they are assuming they have done something wrong or I am upset with them. Again the world does NOT revolve around you! There is obviously something wrong, I just lost my husband, it has nothing to do with you. I also have 4 children who have various activities that keep us busy, I also have 3 jobs, do NOT get offended if I can't drop everything to be there for you, or talk to you. I have obligations I am trying to get through, and until we are a little further into raising my children alone, THEY are my top priority, not your feelings. I do get you are trying to help, and are having a hard time with this loss yourself, but I need to be able to raise my kids my way without having to justify to you, or be the mean one ALL the time. ( I am going to as it is, I don't need to be made to look like it by others)

The third: People avoiding talking to me about HIM. Believe it or not, I am ALWAYS reminded of him, even if it seems I am distracted by other things I am doing. It is more insulting for you to avoid the subject, or eye contact by being coy. I have not changed, I still like to chat, and laugh, it is merely my circumstances that have changed, and how I am reacting to them. I hate how people avoid looking at me, or if they do it is with pity. I hate that people avoid talking to me, and if they do it is without looking at me or simply asking the questions they want to know. It is more insulting that you pretend he didn't exist, or that you forgot him. It is the memories of him that helps us get through somedays. It is knowing that people will continue to remind my kids what they loved about their father so they can remember to love that about him as well.

I took the kids to a group session of grief counseling provided by the mortuary. I think it will ultimately be good for all of us, while some of the kids are not wanting to pursue it. There were a couple of things that were brought up that I thought were very helpful. One was to write our feelings and thoughts about our loved one we lost, and place them in a Christmas ornament, then we can be able to look at it a year from now and reflect. I couldn't make myself do it. It would hang on the tree as a constant reminder of who was not there. I feel like I am keeping up on this blog for that exact reason. Although I do not believe I have shared how I feel towards Him on this particular blog (I think I did on my family one so my kids could see it, this blog has become my "poor me" type blog, my personal feelings which is why I avoid names, and don't have my profile on here) Another thing I felt was helpful was a worksheet on traditions, where you could be prepared with what you can handle this Holiday season, and what you cannot. It felt a little lighter to hear it was okay to skip certain traditions. (Although some of which I had already planned on skipping, it was nice to hear it was okay). The last thing I really liked that I got from it was the idea of writing a grief letter. A letter to others telling what you are going through and what you need form others, whether it be space, time to cry, help with certain tasks. I think this is what brought up this post. I need to tell these "people" how I am feeling with this added stress, and what I need from them is to back off a little.

Thanks to my loved ones who read this and wouldn't take this personally and will look at it as a new widows venting, trying to make sense of something that will never make sense. Please understand I love all of you and just want time to deal with this my way.

Prayer

I have been struggling off and on with my beliefs in the church I was raised for a while now, ever since something was said to my husband, and it has continued with tension in our families, and then with the death of my mother, and especially since the death of him. I am struggling to see how this "plan" is something a loving God would put into action. He saw some horrible things in his time in the service, that made him question his beliefs, but then to have a leader tell him his opinion as doctrine pushed me over the edge. I still feel there is definitely something to the core of our beliefs, just not in people's way of living them all the time. I am tired of judgmental people implying they are better then others.

Some of our church leaders came over tonight to check on me. They came right out and said they understood I was the more "active" of the two of us... who are they to judge that? They didn't even know him, and they were judging him. Then they told me to find comfort in prayer... how can I pray to a God who took my love from me, and left me alone with our children to raise? I don't need people assuming they know what will comfort me and give me piece. I don't need to hear the subtle judging of my deceased husband, you didn't bother to get to know him, don't pretend you did.

Having a rough day

Not only am I upset about losing him, but add to it all the crap I have to deal with now he is gone, and that brings me to tears almost as easily. There are things that have needed to be cleared up for a few years now that we would simply put off, or work around that are now a necessity.

The part of clearing these things up that is bringing me to tears is the fact I get one thing accomplished and it doesn't cross it off my to do list, it simply adds 3 more things to get it done. I thought I had finally gotten somewhere today when I found someone more than willing to work with me and look into things to get it handled... so I thought it would be worth being a little late for work in exchange something crossed off... but I couldn't have been more wrong. Not only did I give up work for nothing I found they totally used my coming forward earlier to manipulate it to work for them... making me much more cross than before.

I am tired of being jerked around by incompetent people, and getting a false sense of accomplishment getting closer to results, only to find I am further away then I began.

I have to just keep putting it into perspective, it took years for some of these things to build up, and I can't expect them to work themselves out in a couple weeks. (wise words from a close friend) but regardless it is so frustrating... I feel like I am trying to pull my life together and move on, but I keep hitting major road bumps, and they are not all to blame on Him, but they are things I could have put off, or he could have dealt with if he were here.

MAD AS HELL

I took all the health classes in school, I know the process of grieving, but I am going through it my own way, and trying to overcome it quickly for the kids. It has been a month since he left us, and I just am mad at him, mad at God, mad at my kids because I feel like they are not helping with basic chores that would have been done if he were here. I am hurting and I can't talk to him to work it out and make it better I am feeling so alone lately and I am just mad about that too. When I had bad days before I could come home and curl up with him and he would hold me, and I would feel better... now there is no one. Sure we had our fights... but he was always there to come back to, or to talk it out with, or give the silent treatment to... but now I can't even work out my being mad with him... I want to scream, I want to hit, I want to yell, I just want the impossible, I want him back... it is not fair!!! How am I expected to get through this alone? I just want him back, I have been alone a month... not sure how much longer I can stand it... I miss him and want him back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His View...

So I have lots of mixed feelings on a couple things. I have always thought I knew him best, and I still do, but there are little things I find out, bits and pieces, of things he would do, that I am not sure how to take... and not really even sure if it matters... but it keeps haunting me a little so it does matter to me.

To know where I am coming from you have to know about the first part of our dating... and he would hate me to tell this... I was a goody goody, never even daring to do anything one toe out of line... while he would push as far as he could, then push a little more. One time he I caught him drinking "water" (only it was a little stronger) and I had a little freak out... " I DIDN"T KNOW YOU DRANK, I CAN"T DATE SOMEONE WHO DRINKS!" to which he quickly disposed of his drink, and vowed not to drink again... I felt so loved, I had changed a "man" (he was still a teenager) for the better because of my love. Over dramatic, yes, but I was a teenager then myself.

There are things I have found out since he passed that have made me wonder why he couldn't confide in me. I had known most his secrets, and his weaknesses, why did he not trust me with other things?

Then I had a couple different perspectives on this. One mutual friend felt he was some how shielding me from these things, but went on to say "I think it was a disservice to you, because you were stronger than he thought and could have handled it" This line of thinking hurts simply because I think I should have been stronger for him, not so naive that he felt I needed protecting.

The other view is that he didn't want me to think less of him... this line of thinking hurts so much more... That he would have thought for a second that he could have done anything that would have made me think less of him... if this is the case than I simply didn't show him how much he truly meant to me.

I wish I could have just a little more time with him... there are so many things I feel were left hanging, whys, and how comes, and just one more opportunity to let him know how much I love him.


I thought I was doing pretty good today... but then memories of him would creep in, and distract me, making them my focus. I can't even remember what first set it off, the tears just came out of no where. Then after a quick breakdown, I regained composure and set out top finish my classes. But those damn tears were so on the verge, one slip into my thoughts and not my action, and they were right there seeping out.

I thought I had finished getting it out of my system when I got to my other commitments later. I had ran into an old high school friend who knew him as well, and I was telling her how he had passed... about a month ago. A MONTH ago. I still can't believe it has been that long, and it just hit me so hard, putting that time frame on it. I have not had him in my life for a month... not a day goes by I wish I could have better savored those 17 and a half years I had him. (We had been married just over 16years, but dated a year and a half before. And we knew we belonged to each other the day we met) we had joked on our anniversary we had been with each other more than half our lives...

The hole that was ripped from me the day he died has not seemed to heal, mend, or fill itself in any way... it has only grown. Grown a little with every thought of what he will be missing; weddings, graduations, grandchildren; all these milestones I will have to go through alone. It grows every time I think he would like this, or we should do this this, or when I realize it will always only be me now...

His Last Day

I don't know why I have felt so compelled to write this in detail, but I don't ever want to forget it. There is so much guilt involved in this, and yet I feel like I need to put it out there. I am putting this here where my it is more about me, and less likely to be seen.

The last night when I returned from work at night He told me to hurry downstairs, we were having a movie night, I argued and said it was a school night, and he insisted... I am so glad he did. He asked me to shave his head, it had gotten long for him and when it was long it was easier in the shower, once again he insisted on doing it that night, so I obliged. After I finished and He and I laid on the bean bag to finish watching Harry Potter 6 so we were ready for the new movie next week. He hugged me and pulled me in close like we did every night, it was our position to sleep in. He kissed my neck sweetly, and then as he often did playfully bit my neck, and hold me he loved me. I didn't realize this would be our last interaction.

I dozed off shortly before he did, but not for long. I awoke to his snoring. He didn't usually snore unless he was throughly exhausted and deeply asleep. I would usually have woken him up and dragged him to bed for a better night's sleep but I knew he had been exhausted, and opted to sleep down stairs on the bean bag. After about an hour of trying to sleep through his snoring, I gave up and went upstairs... something I rarely did, I hated sleeping alone, and usually couldn't, except that I hadn't slept well the previous night and I was exhausted. I had to work in the morning and needed sleep, I justified it to myself. How I regret that decision. I slept okay, not great, and awoke to wake up Him and the kids. I couldn't wake him up, which had happened twice in the last couple month's. He would get so exhausted and just need to sleep and catch up. He was still snoring so I thought he was okay. It is only after the fact I think back and wonder if it was really snoring and whether I should have called then. I called his boss and apologized and explained how he was over-exhausted again. Then got kids up and out the door.

I went down and tried once again to wake him up with no luck. I was still tired, and while he was still "snoring" I thought I will just lay with him a while. I remember laying by him thinking how odd he didn't pull me in like he usually did when I laid by him, but simply pulled his arm over me and closed my eyes. I remember fading off asleep and Him saying, almost dreamlike, "You can do this, if I am gone you can do this." I remember repeating "I can do this" and fell asleep.

Then I heard The door and woke startled, Kris was not snoring, it was too quiet, and he was not breathing either. His sister came down and we called 911. They coached us on CPR and arrived shortly and did their best as well. I found out later they said he had been dead for a couple hours... shortly after I laid by him and went to sleep. It haunts me to think if I had been more aware I could have prevented this... however it comforts me to know he went peacefully and had the faith in me that I could do it.

I hate thinking I simply laid there hearing him tell me "if I am gone" and I did nothing. I know I simply thought it was a lame dream at the time, but looking back it is the thing that will forever haunt me... could I have prevented this? I tell myself he wouldn't have wanted to be saved, stuck in a hospital room for who knows how long dealing with tests and things... but I think at least I would still have him.

I know it is not good to dwell on regrets and guilt, but I have felt for a couple weeks I needed to write these last few hours with him down, so I would never forget them.

I miss him more than words can tell, and while I try to paint on a positive face for my kids I ache. The only thing that hurts worse than the void I feel without him is the pain I see my children going through with this loss. I hate not being able to fix it, and they know all the lies I tell are just lies I have hurt. "It will get easier" "Time will make it easier" We just have to relearn life without him... and when he was such a huge part of that life it is too hard.

The Looks...

I have always loved being the center of attention, and still do in some situations. But as my brother put it best, this is NOT something you want the attention for. He could not have been more right.

The older kids wanted to get back to school right after, and the week leading up to his funeral. They would say funny things like how everyone was extra nice, even people who usually weren't, or that they didn't like the looks they got. I didn't understand what they meant until I got back to work.

I know everyone means well, and several people have helped, or offered help, and would at the drop of a hat. But it is the look that you get, the one that you feel penetrating you, with pity that is hard to take in. I hate being known for my loss.

Besides the pity in the look, there is the not knowing what to say. I know there is nothing to say that will make me feel better... so don't try, there is no obligation.

I hate how you can feel the eyes find you, scope you out, and there are always those certain trusting eyes, that make the tears come. Those are the eyes you avoid. I have gotten good at hiding, in rooms, behind doors, in bathrobes. You can even feel the penetrating looks through the phone. The awkward pauses give it away... I have gotten good at cutting people off and screening calls.

There are times I want to just pretend life hasn't changed and just continue on... and that is when it gets too casual and I mention Him. Then it turns awkward, I feel guilty for forgetting... and then the people I am with don't know how to respond. Then there are the times I just want to talk about Him... but then I start crying... and that just leads to more people not knowing what to say.

Then there is the hugging. How long and how tight is appropriate? I truly appreciate the love, but I think overall I was never a big touchy feely person... except with Him. But I have gotten good at hugs too... I have learned that sometimes that is how I am still standing... from others holding me up.

Age lines

I had never cared if I got wrinkles or age lines, but was very pleased when I hadn't had many, and still looked fairly young. I think over all I still do... but I have more wrinkles around my eyes than ever... I think being a widow has aged me. You laugh, but why not? Even as a grown women being forced into this situation has made me have to be stronger than I am, for my kids, I have unfortunately planned 2 funerals now, and have apparently become quite good at (I wonder if the mortuary is hiring), and I haven't worn any kind of base or coverup makeup because I didn't want to have tear streaks I was continually fixing... and waterproof mascara has become my new best friend. But it has definitely aged me emotionally and mentally, why not physically as well?

I think also it has made me a little bitter, a little skeptical, paranoid, and scatterbrained. I now need to be both parents. He and I seemed to have a way of tag teaming... who was the strict one at the time, who was the fun one, etc. One of our children once put it perfect when we were watching a TV show, the world's strictest parents, we asked who was more strict him or I. They said I am more strict about more things, but he was strict on fewer things, but those fewer things he was MORE strict about them. I will need to step up my parenting game and figure how to balance it... I don't want him idolized, and me the new constant bad guy... however if that is the role I must play to continue raising this great kids, without their dad I will. But that is my huge worry. They are such GREAT kids, and a huge part of that is their father, how can I continue that?

Attempting to get back to Life

Today was the day we attempted to try to get back to some semblance of order at our house. The kids got up and went to school, and I went to work. Preschool went fine until C came in and gave me a huge hug... then I recalled the one dance class K ever took... it was with C. He had been getting really good at kickboxing, but it was before UFC, and his instructor had told him he should go take some classes from his wife to learn some grace... cause he could go far if he had some grace to his power. So We put him in a beginning class... he made it to one class, and when they got to jumping and C told the class, "someone is landing hard..." in a class of little girls and one big guy, I wonder who it could have been.

So then I made it back to work and was going great, thought this was a good distraction, then I glimpsed out the window and thought for a second I saw him... it reminded me of his last Saturday he had off work... He came to pick up the kids and got there a little early and just watched me teach for a while. After work he told me he had missed watching me, and how fun it was to see me teaching, how he hadn't watched in a while and was glad he had the chance. It made my day.

Then C came in for his class, wearing K's socks that went up to his crotch. I smiled at first, then just thought of how he loved his socks... there were two pair in particular that he always wanted washed to wear.

Around 6:30 I found my self glancing out the window, watching for him... since that was the time he usually came in to pick the kids and I up. I could always count on him being there ready for us... and he wasn't. It was even a little disappointing walking into preschool and not seeing him... since he was good at slipping in unseen.

In tap we only had a few minutes left, and I was going to teach a new step, when Someone asked for the "hoedown" I gave in, regretting right away that I had. We had learned it a couple years ago for Dance camp... so at many a family function we would all do the hoedown with the kids, K always joked how he would hear the music, and go to watch the kids, and find all of us grown women doing the Hannah Montana Hoedown. Then about a week before, he came from work and told me proudly how he had made a little girls day. Her and her mom had waited for a long time for their car to be done, K always had music playing from his ipod... which the kids made sure had some of their songs on to. He noticed the little girls tee shirt was Hannah Montana, and asked if she knew the Hoedown... she lit up. K promptly turned the ipod to the hoedown and in front of all his tech and the mother, did the hoedown with her.

There are so many memories of K, I just don't want to forget any of them, and I especially don't want his kids to forget either.This has been and continues to be my plea. If anyone has any memories of K PLEASE post them on one of the memorial sites, email or FB message me if you prefer it kept private, comment on here if something reminded you of something.

They say it gets easier over time, and I learned with my mom it does... and even now I can get through longer stretches of time... but the hard times, seem to get harder, the sad times seem sadder. As I tell people every time I am asked how we are doing, We are hanging in there... that is all we can hope for right now. AS for what we need, when I figure that out I will definitely tell you and ask. Rides to the various places I need to get my kids and get my kids home is the biggest right now, so if our children share an activity, please check with us if we need transportation. Thanks.

He Knew

The more I think about it, and comments people make to me, he knew. He knew he would be passing soon... I don't think he realized how soon, but he knew. I have mixed emotions about this realization... in some ways I think it is meant to be of some comfort to me... but instead it hurts worse. Hurts that he didn't try harder to repair his health, hurts that he didn't let me know of this little tidbit. Hurts that he is gone... hurts that his children are hurting...

I am tired of hearing that he isn't hurting anymore, that he is at peace. But I am selfish, and he left me and his kids hurting... and there is no way to be at peace with it... how can you be at piece with God taking a GREAT father of 4, and husband to someone as weak as me... He was my strength and I need him still...

That is the other thing I hate hearing, is that he is with us, he will always be here... NO HE IS NOT... he is not here, or I wouldn't be hurting so much.

He was so much more than anyone ever knew... people that only got a brief glimpse of him loved him instantly, he was the likable one in our marriage... He knew when I met him he would die young, I blew it off as how can anyone know that... but he did.

I have always loved tragic romance stories... a little morbid I know... but one of my favourites is City of Angels with Meg Ryan and Nicholas Cage. He is a "fallen angel" and falls to Earth to be with her, and he gets one brief night together, then tragedy hits, she was hit by a car and killed. But the part I love, is when the former angels friend asks if it was worth it, would he do it again knowing how brief his time with her would be... and he said yes... even knowing how much it would hurt to lose her it was worth it for that one night... Often lately I have wondered this very thing, with as much hurt as I am feeling, was it worth it? Absolutely. If it hadn't been, it wouldn't hurt so much... right?

Ache

I have this constant ache, this longing that I need him. I awake in the night aching for him, I find myself aching when I am with other couples, I ache at the very thought of him... and nothing fixes it. Originally I thought this was in my head and it would just be something I have to learn to deal with, but I find it more and more physical.

I have finished reading the book, A GRIEF OBSERVED by C.S. Lewis, the first two chapters were hard... It was so exactly what I am feeling... I could only get through a paragraph at a time. Chapter one dealt with how he felt, his aching and longing for his love, that spite for others that are happy when your not, that guilt if you let yourself slip and are happy for a fleeting moment. I was told he was so brave for writing this... and when she discovered what I had written she got a tear in her eye... is it brave to put to paper your true emotions for everyone to see? Or is his writing, like mine, his way of coping, and realized many other could benefit from this.

I not never intended this blog to be overly seen, but as it became my vice for pen my feelings, raw and unedited, I decided to let the people I love see how I am coping with this, see how I am truly feeling. My younger daughter told me she read my blog... and I panicked. I am trying so hard to be strong for them, I did not want them to see me weak... but maybe they need to see how I am in agony over this as well.

In Chapter two, he talks about his wife, his love he lost. Worried about preserving the memory of her, worried about not getting all the memories right and losing that image of her... this made me lose it as well... and not so much for my benefit of his memory, but for my children. I want them to KNOW their father, I want them to remember all the great memories of, and I am so afraid that they will fade.

The third chapter was about his faith in God... I am not quite there yet... I am still so made at God and cursing him, yet I need to be certain my children don't see that, or how am I to raise them in a church by myself, with our beliefs? One of my children asked why God did this... the only answer I could give was this. "I don't know, I wondered why when he took my mom, and quit going because I was so mad at him... and now that he has taken my husband, I have to hope that what I have been taught and have taught you are true, and need to be sure to go to church, in the hope that I will see him again." Is that small chance of seeing him, the hope, enough to get me to church to raise my family in church?

As for the final chapter... I think it was a mere summary... I don't recall, as I mentioned I had not quite gotten to that point in my grieving to take much notice of the chapter. It will however be a companion of mine for a while, a reference to check where I am in my grief.

I know time will make this ache go away... but there will always now be a part of me missing. And it will take a lot of time before the guilt of being happy without him subsides. I think this is the fact I hate the most, because he would not have that... in fact this is where he should be holding me close and offering me great words of comfort... "You know I love you, and always will... I will be here watching over you and the kids. You need to be strong for them... I know you can do this"... or something like that (those were similar to what he said to me when I lost my mom)

Dreams

Dreams have always fascinated me, I think that is why the topic of my attempted first novel is dreams. However I have mixed emotions of mine lately.

I had my third biggest breakdown tonight. I came home to clean and get away from well meaning people... I need my reality check, that while everyone else's life goes on... mine can stop for a period... because in so many ways it has. I came home and another light bulb blew... and I could NOT undo the screw to replace it... HE always could, then I had to jump down to change it, HE always lifted me... I broke down and ran through the house screaming... sobbing... until I collapsed on the couch exhausted emotionally.

I ignored the phone calls and just slept, and I dreamt of him... it wasn't exactly him... but him. and as slightly grotesque as he was in this dream, I longed for him, and didn't want to wake up (he had awoken and climbed out of his casket before it was buried)If something jarred me awake I would will myself to go back to sleep just to get another glimpse of this copy of my husband.

I woke up physically aching and just long for him to hold me and make me better... I fill like a huge piece of me has been ripped away... and I long for it back.

I thought a week alone would be good, prepare myself for coping with life alone for my children... but with time I ache more and more, not less. Perhaps death is like a mountain, you have to peak before you can heal? But maybe it is me holding myself back from healing, I don't want to heal, he is my life, and now he is gone...

Void

There is this huge void in my life now and I am unable to fill it. In order to sleep in our bed I have had to leave all the laundry on his side so I don't fill so overwhelmed in the large empty bed.

I have never done well at being alone... and now I feel I am more alone than ever... even with the swarm of friends and family checking on me. It is my tendency to be independent when I need to... but I feel so alone when I am.

I am not one that can handle quiet. I like having some sort of background noise, but not lately. He ALWAYS had music playing, and it seems so unfair to be listening to it without him.

I ache without him, there is this part of me that is no longer there. It hurts worst when I finally get distracted or caught up in something else I am doing, and I mention him as casually as though he is still beside me,or even a mere phone call away.

Then I feel guilty for letting myself slip into such a comfortable situation that I could have forgotten his absence, and I know that is silly, but it is how I feel.

A Grief Observed

A good friend gave me this book and said it would help, I was able to get through the forward, and the introduction... noting comments that described how I am feeling. When I got to the first chapter of the book I got through the first page before I had to put it down because I was sobbing... It described what I am feeling... My worries, my pain, my concerns. I had to put the book down to compose myself before continuing... but once again I broke into sobs... As I was trying to calm myself down I realized I was simply trying to put into words how I was feeling. That is how I am dealing with this pain... through words. I don't pretend to be overly eloquent, but I have always loved the beauty of literature, and while K was the half with the broader vocabulary, there is something so calming to me in the written words expressing how one feels.

I have had comments on my blogs and on FB about how I need to keep up with the writing, and it is how I can cope. I can see why C.S. Lewis wrote this book... it was his way of coping... and in return, by publishing it, it has helped others.

K would read 3 to 4 books a week, from a wide range of topics and authors... although he never understood my love of the classics. I think it is because they took more time in describing their feelings on matters, rather than simply moving the plot along.

I hope perhaps someday I can help people heal through my writing, but until then I simply write to help me to cope. I have since calmed myself down, and will finish reading the book a little at a time... it is such a comfort to see someone deal with their loss in the same way as I do... through writing.

Purging

I am having very mixed emotions about purging right now... on one hand I want a fresh start, I want my house set up how I want it and I want everything in a new room, closets cleaned clothes etc. gone.

But on the other hand, should I feel guilty for cleaning stuff out so soon after? My dad has not cleaned out my mom's closet and it has been 2 and a half years. Why am I trying to do it so soon? It has only been 2 and a half weeks...

Maybe because there is so much to do here it is overwhelming, and this is an excuse to start? Maybe it will be therapeutic? Who knows, all I know is I am on some mad kinda cleaning streak and hope I won't regret it...

The Little Things

There are so many BIG things that remind me of K, or memories about him, but it is the little things I hope the kids will remember too.

Tuesday was his favourite day of the week... why? 2 reasons. Garbage day, he was like a little kid getting so excited with the boys watching them pick up the garbage cans... and especially if they were really full that week. And also because it was Pay Day... and now the reason he liked Pay day is not what you would think. He would cash his check and get so excited because he would FILL his gas tank. He loved a full tank of gas.

He would try to make everything fun for the kids... We always had real trees, he hated the idea of a fake one, so each year when we went shopping for the tree, he would tell the kids to go hug as many trees as they could until they found one that hugged them back... when it hugged them back, that was the tree for us.

Now as much fun as he had picking the trees he hated the mundane task of putting the lights on the tree... but that was always dad's job in our house so I assumed he would do it for our first year in our own house. It was the first ans LAST year he put the lights on. I came home and he had only used 1 strand of lights and simply looped it over a couple branches across the front... since then it has been perfectionist me doing it.

Also in the car for long road trips, near the end the kids would be done... so K would make it a game to get through the last stretch. For Thanksgiving on our way to Arizona one year, the last 30 min. or so he told the kids we better start calling the turkeys So we would have one for dinner. For 30 min. He and the kids were screaming out the windows, "GOBBLE< GOBBLE< GOBBLE"

He hated people , especially his kids, to see him cry. He took a few years of dating and being married to let me see him cry. He always felt it was a sign of weakness... I would tell him it reminded me he was human... then he would snap with some joke about not being human and an android or something. But he was much more tender hearted then he ever let on.

As mentioned at the funeral, he let the girls paint his toenails... he thought it was funny, and they got a kick out of doing it. What you don't know is my tough girls were able to paint his toenails at his dressing. There was also a time when he let them paint his nails right before T's baptism... So when the bishop saw them he teased him about it, and even slipped and called him Sis. T.

He had jokes about everything, I think that is how he coped with things. When the blood bank he donated to regularly sent his blood to be tested, they are the ones who found the cancer. The Dr.s office who tested it called, and K thought it was a friend form the blood bank. The conversation went like this...

K: Hello
Nurse: Mr. T I am calling to schedule the removal of your testicles.
K: Ok, let me call my wife and get them out of her purse
long pause
Nurse: Mr. T this is serious
K: what?
Nurse: um... You don't know? Let me get the Dr.

He had a great love for Porter Rockwell, in fact he wrote college papers on him for utah history classes. We were suppose to go to a fire side on him the sunday after he passed. I think he always compared himself to him as a church member, rough around the edges, but a sincere faith in the gospel.

I have heard it over and over again that he was larger than life... but he would NEVER have thought that highly of himself, and would be shocked to see how many people thought that highly of him. I love him so much and can't believe how short my time with him was. I feel like there is so much I still need from him... that I will never have.

Flowers

I hate how sweet my house smells with flowers, I used to love it because when I walked in and smelled them I know my hubby had gotten me flowers... now it is just a reminder that I won't get them from him anymore.

I feel numb because I have a list a mile long a places/people to call about him dying... and I need to be strong to get through it, but really I feel like I should be crying at every mention of his name.

It feels so unreal to think I will never feel him touch me again. Or him his voice call me again. I hate going to sleep because I know I will never wake up with him beside me again.

I feel like such a fake being strong in front of the kids, really I want to break down into someones arms as well... but the arms I want are no longer there.

I am so scared that I have to raise these kids on my own now... I love hearing how respectful, and what good kids they are... but half of that influence is gone now. How am I suppose to fill that void? I keep cleaning out and purging stuff, that feels like a constant reminder of the fact that he is gone... and I feel guilty for doing it right away... like there should be some waiting time or something. But I just need a fresh start, without the constant reminder of the fact that he is gone.

I am so glad I can write my thought out, it is calming and a good alternative to my wanting to curl up in a ball and cry.

I just feel numb... numb like this isn't really happening to me, numb as I try to calming clean out some of his things, numb as I try to be strong and comfort the kids, numb as I try to make myself eat when I am not hungry, numb as I lay down in bed emotionally drained and fall asleep out of shear exhaustion.

break down

Last night was the second time I had a full out break down in a little more than a week... the first was when the paramedics told me he was gone. I screamed I yelled, I sobbed, I ran, I watched his favorite part of his favorite movie over and over again (300, the end where he says my queen, me wife, me love... then he dies) I feel like that was how his life was, fighting for everyone else... even right up to the end. I am sure it will be the first of many, I sobbed myself to sleep... How can this be real? Why would God take him from me when I need him so much? I just truly don't understand, and I know I never will. I keep saying things to comfort the kids... but find no comfort in them myself, so why should they? Perhaps with time some things will begin to fall into place and I will understand more then...

One week

It has been one week since I lost him. I have been told it gets easier with time, but I think I am just on auto pilot right now, and numb... the pins and needle feeling has not yet kicked in. We had his viewing last night, I don't think he ever realized how many people truly loved him and how many lives he had touched. I feel like I am just being shuffled around as we finish these funeral arrangements, and the funeral takes place. I worry most that as the love and support and comfort that has surrounded us fades that is when it will truly sink in, especially for the kids.

The kids have great friends and great support... but will it continue in a month? a year? 5 years? How am I going to continue to raise these awesome kids without the huge influence of their father? It was he who was larger than life, not me... sometimes I feel like it was because of him I felt so loved in in this life.

I am really tired of hearing how strong I am... I feel like that is simply my protecting the kids and out of necessity... no power of mine. I never could take a compliment well... in fact I just remembered he used to say, "Just say thank you" I had forgotten about that.. til just now. I think that is why I writing is so freeing and such a comfort right now, it brings the good memories close... so he feels close. He could never just leave a compliment a compliment... there was always some snap remark or something after... perhaps that started because he knew it was hard for me to take them.

When he was gone with the military I could never sleep in our bed alone... I would just sleep on the couch... the big empty bed was just too much. I think I may have to either keep my kids in my bed... which is pretty squishy that way, or go back to the couch for a while.

I have one more day I need to be strong... please be with me so I can be for our children... I can have my hard time while they are being held up by others. I feel like this is going to be the day it makes it so final...

Laid to rest.

My loving husband, K was laid to rest today beside my mother. To date I think it was the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. He was always there for me and I feel so lost without him. I no longer have him right here to turn to when I need him. I hurt so much and he was always there to comfort me and make me feel better. He was not suppose to leave me like this.

This is the first I have been alone since I lost him... and I am being swallowed up by the void he has left behind. I continue to expect him to come in and hold me close like it was a big joke. He meant so much to me, no one will ever truly understand how close we were. I am tired of being brave and strong for the kids... when my stronghold is gone.

I am so glad there are tons of people around offering my family and I support... but that does fix the pain. I will continue to be strong for my children because they are all I have left of him... But I just want to curl up in a ball and cry, cry until the pain is gone... which won't happen... cause he will not be coming back to hold me and ease the pain.

I love him so much...

Funerals

K hated funerals, he just couldn't handle them. In our 16 years of marriage he only attended 2 funerals with me (and unfortunately there were several). One was his cousin's because he knew he had to be there for his family, and the other was my mother's, because I had to have him there. There were others where he was so close to them he was very torn with going, but could not bring himself to go. And others where he had said he would try to come, and make excuses, not wanting me to know he really couldn't handle it... but I knew.

I think he disliked funerals so much that is why a few weeks ago he told me, "you know I want to be cremated, right?" I being the smart ass I am, and also not thinking it would be so soon, and he was serious replied, "Well you'll be dead and won't have a say!" Well he is gone, and I know he will be there comforting us while we miss him... probably laughing at us for being a bunch of boobing babies.

We will miss him and I know there are many stories and memories of him from everyone. I hope everyone comes ready to write them down for us, I want his children to know him and remember him.

I love you K, and I am so glad I was able to spend my life with you.

memories...

There are so many great memories of K. Monday night before he died he came in to get me from work, we walk out the door and he has left the car running with Justin Beiber blasting loudly from it "Baby baby baby OHH" and he danced and grooved all the way back to the car, you could not miss this big guys dancing, and I heard how fun he was from several people who saw him that night.

The week before he picked me up and it had been pay day the next day, but he heard the Mcrib was back (gross I know) so while we were waiting for the kids for dance we counted out change in the car so he could get a Mcrib for dinner. He then sighed and told me, "MMMM better than sex and a lollipop"

I was always so impressed with what a great people reader he was, so much so that when he was working with Jody Wilkinson at the truck store and the closed it and brought a couple of the salesman to the Acura store he was the only one who could handle the drastic change in clientele. I loved to watch him at parties and social events, he was such a people watcher. He would be quiet and meet everyone for the first party of the event, until he knew his audience... and how far he could push them. By the end of the nigh the WHOLE group, would be just circled around him to hear what he had to say, and I would have to drag him out the door... although he always tried to make it like it was me being dragged.

He was sooo generous. There were countless times I was sooo irritated, when we were dating an married, because he would stop to help someone and we would be late to a movie or something, but he made certain they were okay and safe and if he could fix whatever was wrong he did. There was one time recently we saw a cute VW bug stranded. K was getting ready to turn the other way and flipped around and got out to see what was wrong. It had been a young kid, and K checked out the engine and told the kid to get in the truck... he was very hesitant until he saw me (K had been in his day off clothes, bare foot, gym shorts, and tee, his tattoos showing and his earrings in)I remember laughing because the kids mom had called, and like K did, he instantly had the young kid at ease.... but the mom obviously wasn't convinced. he was saying "Yeah mom I really am good, he is really nice. We are going to the parts store, he said he can fix it... I know my (and in a whisper) it's ok he has a wife and kid with him" K took him in, bought the needed part, and took him back and stayed til it was running and he was on his way.

There was another time we had come out of the store with our groceries for the week after preparing the list and he saw a trailer with a man sitting out with a sign, "stranded with family, hungry, any help appreciated" He was always careful about giving money to strangers and homeless but he couldn't not help them. He said take go back in and get our list again, and he took our groceries to this man for his family. I got back out to the car and he was a little teary, said we had been the first people to help, they were moving form out of state and had their wallet stolen and hadn't eaten for a while.

Working downtown he saw several homeless people, and again didn't give money but gave everything else he could. We would buy cases of water, and gatorade in the summer because he didn't want them dehydrated. when the weather turned and it got chilly he came home one night and went through his clothes for things he hadn't worn in a long while, and asked the kids to do the same. He took the bags in to work and gave them to a couple homeless families, and told them to keep warm. He said he felt much better seeing a coat on them he hadn't worn in ages than in the closet collecting dust.

He was such a great dad, there were several nights he just wanted to spend with his kids, and homework or extra activities be damned. There were many late night school night movie nights... we kept the tv in our room until recently and we would order chinese and the kids would make a bed at the foot of our bed and we would watch a movie, which we never made it though because it was usually late. The night before he passed, I got home from Ikea and he said "hurry we are having a movie night" we were watching Harry Potter 6. We had pizza and left over halloween candy. I voiced my objections, it was a school night, it was late, but he insisted... I am so glad he did.

He was the neighborhood gossip... ask any of the ladies in our circle. I would get home from teaching and all the neighbor ladies would be gathered on our lawn discussing so and so or this or that. He loved to talk. and would until late into the night if you let him.

There are so many, and I could just keep going... He is a great man, and father.

Numb

Several things have slowly made me realize this is not a bad dream and it is really happening, and while I think I may break down with each of these realizations, I simply feel a little more numb. Like someone is squeezing me so tight I feel tiny pins and needles that just ache, then with each squeeze I feel less and less... and I think the part that scares me is when the worst of this is over, the funeral, I know that I will eventually be let go and all that pain will come flooding like sharp daggers rather than the small pricks.

I had started this blog as a joke, I have issues with odd numbers, and only 4 blogs seemed unlucky (who knew it would be the fifth?). But for a while this one was blank, then I was using it as a journal of sorts, now I find my self coming here to simply write non judged. I think this is where I am going to find myself able to cope with my loss.

I hurt so much, and yet I feel like I have cried so many tears that I just can't find any left to cry... and then the tears come again. It is then I am so grateful for the shower... it washes away the tears, and provides them if I run out.

I miss him so much and it has only been 6 days, I learned when he was gone with the Army the longer it was the harder... I think that is why I dread each passing day. He was ALWAYS my strength, from the day i met him. I have battled with depression since I was at least 10... and it was when I was dating him in High school I learned how it hits, (I get it in waves, if I take an anti depressant for about a month then I am good again for a couple years... but if I don't catch it fast I can sink quick) He was always there to warn me if I was sinking and lift up quick. (don't worry my prescription is already on hand) I depended on him for everything, financially, to help with the kids because he was an amazing father, and to be my steady rock.

I think I joked when I started using this blog I didn't have the "blues" I got the "purples" because it was my favourite colour... This blog is going to be how I cope in the middle of the night when I get my kids to bed. My kids are luckily so blessed to be strong like their father, and the loss of him is going to be their hardest trial yet.

A Widow...

I ama widow. That one word is so heavy. I am feeling so lost and alone, although there has been an endless stream of people coming by to show their love. I just want him. I want it to be him to hold me. I want it to be him comforting me, and it is not. I keep hearing how strong I am, but with kids don't you have to be? It is at night I just want to hear him breath in my ear and feel his arms hold me tight. I have know him half my life, he has always been their, even if no one else was. He was my everything, my husband, my lover, the ather of my children, my rock, how do you recover fromhaving all that taken from you? help

Regrets

There are always regrets in one's life, but this weekend my head is full of nothing but.
I didn't sleep with him the whole night before he died
I didn't call sooner
I didn't have someone else check on him (there were 2 different opportunities)
I didn't tell him how much he meant to me
There were so many things we want ed to do together
He won't see his wonderful kids grow up
His kids will not have their daddy

I miss him so much, I keep trying to call him to see if he wants a drink. I keep looking for him at places we go. I know he is not happy with some of the decisions I am making on his arrangements... but tough I am here and he is not. He was a donor and I wouldn't let them have his eyes. He was sooo generous and would have given anything, and I would have let them take anything... but his eyes. I loved his eyes they were my favourite part of him.

There are a couple comforts, but they aren't really comforts... just empty thoughts I hope make me feel better. I am sure he knew. He always told me he thought he would die young. He recently said he wanted to be cremated... I said No he will be gone and I will make the decisions... just laughing it off. He also recently told me he did NOT want a 21 gun salute, I said okay. Lately I he has making certain he expressed his feelings to people. I really think he knew. I just wish I did. But I don't think it would have made it any easier. I think he had slipped when I laid down with him before he stopped breathing. I can remember thinking or him telling me I can do this, if he is gone I can do this. I think he told me that.

I am so mad at God right now though. He took my Mom when we were getting close again, and now he took husband. He hated the phrase, "He has a Plan" he saw some AWFUL SHIT with the army and would say what God in his right mind would "plan" this? How could a Loving God take a Father form 4 children who need him? From ME who needs him? If this is God's plan it SUCKS!!! I am going to try to be good, and maybe I will understand it eventually, but my Kids need to be raised in the church and know they will see him again.

This has turned into nothing but my jumbled thoughts and unfortunately that is how they are coming lately. I just wish he was here to help me get through this... but then I wouldn't be going through this right?

K

I am at a complete loss for words, however writing has always been a comfort for me, so I am trying this. I want to thank all my friends and family for the continued support and love shown to us, I know we will need it more than ever. K and I knew we were meant for each other the day we met. We met sluffing school, and I had offered him a ride home. A former boyfriend offered me a ride after and insisted on taking us both, after much argueing I finally agreed and tried to have him drop me off first, when that failed, I sat in the back seat. When we got to K's house I jumped out through my arms around him and gave him the biggest kiss I could, and told him I loved him and I would see him tomorrow. He went in and told his sister he met the girl he was going to marry. (I had my doubts about this, until I found her old journal and found it written that K had said this, and she was going to have to check this girl out) We had many arguements about the exact date it was we met, and I learned then I should never question K on dates and numbers, because he was right... I had save the ticket stub from the wrestling match we had sluffed.

We dated steadly for a year and a half before we got married. Most of you know the reason for the young marriage, he is our wonderful son B... K said B is our perfect mix, he got all mine and all K's best qualities. In our dating we attended 3 school dances together, Sweethearts, and my jr and senoir girl's pref. We had plans for going to both Prom and senior dinner dance, however K was accident prone (luv ya babe, I am teasing) and K suffered through the ballet with me for prom because he had just had knee surgery and obviously couldn't dance, so My mom got us tickets to the ballet, box seats so there was plenty of room for K's leg to rest. We had plans for senior dinner dance but K decided he preferred the Hospital for some major leg surgery.

He liked to be involved in every aspect of planning the wedding. AS a girl I had my wedding planned for years... but at the wedding planners when asked what are my colors he piped up PURPLE, when I looked at him, he just shrugged and said I thought it was my favourite colour. So we picked out all the napkins, and invites and everything with purple. When I got the bridesmaid dresses I realized the lighter color purple matched better than the dark napkins we choose, and with out telling him just called and switched. I never thought her would noticed and approved it without him. The wedding day he was so mad that they had messed something up, I had to hurry in and tell him I did it... he had just wanted it perfect.

When we got engaged (it was no romantic engagement story) but he insisted on getting me a ring... but he was soooo excited about the baby too I had to tell him I wanted a Ring first to make the marriage real before he could buy baby clothes.

There are so many wonderful memories of K I just don't even know where to go next. He was so generous with everything he had. I remember being late to many a movie because he had to help someone stranded on the road. He would literally give you the shirt off his back, He would by bags of groceries for hungry families, and stop to help anyone he saw had a need. When we were tight for Christmas some years, it always bugged him he couldn't help more. It was usually those years we would go to the roadhouse homeless shelter and give his time.

He was always my strength. I don't think he ever realized how much I needed him. But I also fear he didn't realize how strong I could be for him. He tried to do everything on his own. He was a private person. We would gets inarguements over it... he liked our business, our business... and hated asking for help. I don't think he realizes how many people loved him and would give him the shirt off his back.

He loved his children above all else. B was his best friend, if someone called to hang out or go watch a fight, he said he'd preferr to go fishing with B. He described B best saying he was the best of both of us. He was so proud of him, never missed an opportunity to brag about what a man he is becomeing. T was and ALWAYS will be his princess. She was his little girl, he could rarely say no to her... until she became a teenager and he saw the boys looking at his princess. He loved how she longed to understand things and would questions until she got the concept... sometimes a five minute help with homework turned into a 3 hour discussion... he loved that about her. W is his little piggy... we gave her the name when she was born and it has stuck. K loved how she was never afarid to do her own thing... she would search out new friends ANYWHERE we went. She always puts her everything to what ever she does and never gets discouraged, but is brave enough to try again. He admired that in her. C, he would joke that he was the favorite, but he loved them all soooo much. C is all boy. He loves to be tough like his dad, but he is our cuddler and loves to make everyone happy like his dad too.

It doesn't make it easier, but I think K knew something may happen. He talked to me about making sure the kids knew he loved them, and doing family things was important. He mentioned random things about when he died recently as well. We always were so glad we got married young, we knew we would last forever because we grew up together, the part I am having trouble with is the fact that we were suppose to grow old together.

Insomnia

It is 4:30 in the morning and I have yet to sleep. I am tired, but my head is throbbing with a headache I have not yet been able to get rid of. I also close my eyes to try to sleep and my brain fills with to do lists, worries, kids, memories, etc. I can't sleep in my bed because it feels to empty without my hubby. It has no hubby because he feel asleep downstairs. I can't sleep downstairs because the kink in my neck from the angle of the couch increases the throbbing headache.

I am going to be completely non functioning in the morning.

Journal of sorts...

So I created this blog to use as I see fit... I am making it a sort of online journal. I have my goal blog which sometimes turns into a poor me and I want to keep it more goal oriented, so this is my poor me blog. I have also taken off all the gadgets that may attach this to moi... but if you come across it feel free to read it, I tried making it private and not inviting anyone, but it didn't work. So I just left it public...

This is my first poor me post on here... and I am quite certain it will not be my last. I am finding it more and more difficult to pull myself out of bed in the morning without some obligation to do so. This weekend was great, the kids were off, I was off, I would get up and get so much done. The kids went back today and I got them off and climbed right back into bed... for 4 hours. One of my jobs had to cut down on hours, and my other one won't schedule me earlier.

I have an anti-depressant, but I take it in the morning, and if I forget to take it right when I get up it doesn't kick in early enough. I also find myself thinking dark thoughts... like if something happened who would find me. Then I have these snap out of it moments and I hurry and take my anti-depressant and drink some caffeine and wonder what is going on in my head?

I am not feeling like myself.

I have also noticed I am much more motivated to clean when I have a specific goal in mind, like a big project accomplished or some other feeling of accomplishment... the simple cleaning up just doesn't motivate me.

I am also going to try to write in here frequently. I like to write, and like everything else you need to practice writing to keep doing it well, so I am using this as something of my practice blog...

Purple

Why purple you ask? well to be honest it was the first title that popped into my head and it has stuck. Next question should rightfully be what is the point of this blog? I don't know. For now it is the mindless rambling that seems to make little sense to me, and probably no sense to anyone who reads this. I started it simply because I find even numbers unlucky and 5 the luckiest number there is. So when I added my writing blog I found myself at the unlucky number 4... so I fixed it.

Back to purple. Purple has been my favorite color for as long as I can remember. Although I have only briefly had it as the color of my room, there are accents of it in my living room, and it was only my wedding color because my soon to be hubby knew it was my favorite and assumed it would be part of my wedding because of this.

Purple is more of a passion than a color. I use it as my password, (not alone). If it is an option in clothing or shoes I like it makes deciding much easier, I am drawn to it.

Now the purple people eater song is a whole nother story... I mean really