I don’t do that of course. What’s the point? I KNOW that no one brings on these things. They happen. They happen because the body is designed to do it. It fights off what it can and succumbs to what it can’t. They also happen because our lives, however they end up are consequences for the choices we make. It seems to be human nature for people to blame others for their misfortune. On so many levels this is wrong and makes me mad. It goes with the saying, you have nobody to blame but yourself. Could Mom had taken better care of herself? Of course. Hindsight, ya know? I reflect on my own life and as difficult as the past 2.5 years has been, I wouldn’t change the decisions I have made because I know that I wouldn’t have what’s most important if I didn’t make the decisions I had made. What if I hadn’t pursued Mike when we met online? Well, I may have not moved to Tennessee. I wouldn’t have married him. I wouldn’t have my daughter. Would my life be better without those things? NO! I am sad he’s not here but I am more HAPPY to have known him, had him in my life, even if it was for a short time. As much as it’s easy for us to second guess, we shouldn’t.

As a bystander watching this happen to Mom is frustrating. It’s maddening and to be honest, for me it’s deja vu. I understand how people could think that dying quickly is merciful. Yes. I do believe it is. Usually the person doing the dying doesn’t know what hit them and those who have to endure the aftermath don’t have to go through the process of watching the suffering. The suffering is terrible. Some could argue that Mike’s death was a quick one and to those who weren’t around him on a daily basis, I would say that yes, it probably was. But the reality is that I had been watching him slip away for quite a long time. I was seeing his choices pull him further away from his family. His choices, in the end kept him from making the ultimate choice and that was the choice to seek help, accept help and admit responsibility and the consequences for his past choices. In many ways he had reached the point of no return – the point where hope is overcome by fear. Mom is quickly approaching this point, too.

Let’s get real. What has happened to her is scary. To all of a sudden have virtually no eyesight, to be told that a fall could kill her and to not remember yesterday is frightening. She has strangers coming in and telling her what to do, when to do it and how. It is oft times painful. It is frustrating. It is frightening. She is, I am sure thinking that none of this is worth it. Perhaps it’s time I just give up. I am heartbroken to think that this could be so. I remember so vividly Mike telling me that he didn’t want to even try – that he couldn’t do it. In the end he said he would but I could tell his heart wasn’t in it. I see the desperation in my Dad’s eyes as he looks for any glimmer of resolve from Mom. I used to have that look in my eye too. It hurts.

This may sound like a foreshadowing of what is to come. It’s not meant to be. I am not predicting an end to the road. This will certainly be a long and bumpy journey. Mom’s still here. She is resistant to facing the difficulties ahead but she must. And just as I didn’t give up on Mike, I won’t give up on her.

So, what do I do? I have been taking solace in my work outs believe it or not. It’s become a sanctuary of sorts for me to zone out. When I go, I use the stationary bikes that sit in front of a big window. The window faces east towards the mountain. The gym is literally located a couple blocks west of the cemetery that Mike rests in. So as I peddle away, I am staring up at that mountain he lays at the foot of. Directly outside the window is a stop sign. It’s become a symbol of those seeds of doubt. Sometimes it’s pretty hard to get motivated to go each morning or if I get started on the bike, that 45 minutes I am on it seem SO long. That stop sign just glares back at me. But behind it stands that mountain that towers over Mike’s grave. It’s these weird thoughts that I battle on a daily basis! It’s frustrating and exhausting!

Amidst all of this, I listen to my iPod. It’s no secret that I have been on this Danny Gokey kick for a while (gee, wonder why?). But get past that for a moment and understand that as I listen to the songs on his album, I understand completely WHY the songs are on there and why he calls this first album of his an anthem for his life right now. It’s become mine as well.

So, as I stare down that stop sign each morning, this is the song I listen to. Whatever it takes to keep pushing forward, ya know?

I Still Believe

I’ve been looking for a light
At the end of this tunnel
I’ve been searching for a sign
To lead me home

Too many endless nights
Of sorrow
But on the other side of this
I know that my heart will live

I never saw a man that walked on the water
I never met a man that walked on the water
But I still believe

I don’t really know what tomorrow will bring
But I’m open to all possibilities
‘Cause I still believe

And the more I live my life
The lesser I question
All the things I just can’t see
Right in front of my eyes
So I take that leap of faith
And learn a few lessons
Time showed me that
What you give is what you get

I never saw a man that walked on the water
I never met a man that walked on the water
But I still believe

I don’t know the answer to my prayer
But I keep kneeling down like somebody is there
‘Cause I still believe

(Now, listen)
Well, I guess I could give up
‘Cause there are days I wanna run away
From everything
But what good would that do for me

‘Cause I, I, I still believe

I never saw a man that walked on the water
I never met a man that walked on the water
But I still believe

I never saw a man that walked on the water
I never met a man that walked on the water
But I still believe

I don’t really know what tomorrow will bring
But I’m open to all possibilities
‘Cause I still believe

I never saw a man, never saw a man, never saw a man,
Who walked on the water
I never saw a man, never saw a man, never saw a man,
But I, but I, but I believe
But I, but I, but I believe
But I, but I, but I believe

Today was a little different.

Recently, I discovered that my huge data storage drive was failing. For the past week I have been trying to recover precious files – basically pictures from Michaela’s birth to about January 2009 – anything that was on Mike’s computer, all of his music, his writings, everything…our tax returns. You name it. It was on this storage drive and last week I couldn’t access it. I took it to a local place and they were unable to recover anything. Finally I caved in and sent the drive to a data recovery place and today learned that IF they can do a full recovery, it will cost me $2400. The drive is in apparently pretty bad shape so today I have been dealing with these feelings that were spilling over from the weekend of just missing Mike to despair in wondering if I was losing some precious memories because I was too stupid to not back it up with redundant drives.

It begs the question…how do you put a price on your memories? As choked up about the cost I will incur in trying to salvage anything from this, I was frantically searching today for any pictures that could have been on that drive but I miraculously found elsewhere. I am happy to say that I did find some. And when I did, I was compelled to put them together in a video. The video below is a tough watch. It features the song “I Will Not Say Goodbye” by Danny Gokey – a song that he introduced the other night as the song that was written for his late wife, Sophia. This is the song that I asked him about.

Then yesterday it hit me…

Debbie and I were taking our daily 2 mile walk yesterday morning. When we walk, we close off everything around us. We don’t even talk to each other. Each of us plug our iPods in and get lost in the music and count our laps around the mall. I had the music turned up loud when this song started. It was “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain. The lyrics are as follows:

The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful
Stop me and steal my breath.
And emeralds from mountains thrust toward the sky
Never revealing their depth.
Tell me that we belong together,
Dress it up with the trappings of love.
I’ll be captivated,
I’ll hang from your lips,
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above.

[Chorus:]
I’ll be your crying shoulder,
I’ll be love’s suicide
I’ll be better when I’m older,
I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.

And rain falls angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed.
You’re my survival, you’re my living proof.
My love is alive — not dead.
Tell me that we belong together.
Dress it up with the trappings of love.
I’ll be captivated,
I’ll hang from your lips,
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above

[Chorus]

And I’ve dropped out, I’ve burned up, I’ve fought my way back from the dead.
I’ve tuned in, turned on, remembered the things that you said

[Chorus:]
I’ll be your crying shoulder,
I’ll be love’s suicide
I’ll be better when I’m older,
I’ll be the greatest fan of your…
I’ll be your crying shoulder,
I’ll be love’s suicide
I’ll be better when I’m older,
I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.

The greatest fan of your life.
…greatest fan of your life.

As the words of this song were sung a memory came to me from 14 years ago this week. It was Mike’s first time on an airplane. He was 24 years old… traveling alone from rural Pennsylvania via Chicago O’Hare to San Francisco to meet me face to face for the first time and spend 9 days with me. We went everywhere that week and a half. I wanted to show him as much of California as I could because I didn’t know when or if he’d ever get to go back there and let’s be honest, I wanted to impress him. During that week he got to see San Francisco, Monterrey, most of central California as we made our way south to spend a few days in the Los Angeles area. I got to take him to see the Pacific Ocean for the first time. He got to eat shark for his first time with me. His first visit to Disneyland was with me. We shared a dance in the parking lot at Universal Studios. George Strait’s “I Cross My Heart” blared over the stereo of my car as he held me close. It was in a word, magical.

We had gotten to know each other fairly well over the previous 3 months – as well as two cyber-pen pals could. It was difficult to have a relationship that way. It didn’t take long for chat to get old. Our phone bills reflected that in a big way. We needed this time in person. Would the spark still be there? There is a lot to be said about chemistry and whether or not it could be replicated. And it was. It was a glorious 9 days.

Then the day came when he had to leave and go back home to Pennsylvania. It was Valentines Day 1996. They let you walk people to the gate at the airport back then. He was to fly back home from LAX. It would be a long 4+ hour flight for him and a long days drive back home to Northern California for me. Saying goodbye was difficult. We didn’t want to say goodbye. We both cried. It was that moment when we both just knew for certain. It was wonderful and painful all at the same time.

And it was a moment that I hadn’t thought of in a very long time. Why now? Then this song started to play…

Well the world just lost two lonely people
The world just lost two broken hearts
The odds were against it but baby here we are
In our own little place in our own little corner
This old cold world just got a little warmer
For the rest of my life I’m gonna hold you in my arms

Chorus:
And when they carve my stone all they’ll need to write on it
Is once lived a man who got all he ever wanted
Tell me something who could ask for more
Then to be living in a moment you would die for

If I never get rich on what money can buy
It don’t matter to me and I’ll tell you why
I’ve got it all when I’m holding you this way
I’ll live to love you I’d die to keep you
Safe inside these arms that need you
I’ll be loving you with the very last breath I take

Chorus

Bridge:
Ashes to ashes dust into dust
I’ll lay beside you forever in love

Last Chorus:
And when they carve my stone all they’ll need to write on it
Is once lived a man who got all he ever wanted
Tell me something who could ask for more
Then to be living in a moment
Loving every minute
Tell me something who could ask for more
Then to be living in a moment you would die for

Living in a moment
I would die for

(Living in a Moment by Ty Herndon)

I think Mike wanted me to remember this. I think it was his way of telling me that maybe there is more to this day than meets the eye. I think he’s telling me that we’ve just gone back to that time 14 years ago. Separated by distance but not by love. ‘Til we meet again, my darling… Happy Valentines Day.

I love you.

I love you, Mike.

Missing you always…

Love, Me

If I sound like a bumbling idiot, it’s probably because I have been awake since 5:30 on New Year’s Eve. Alone with my thoughts, which usually don’t make sense these days, I figured it was time I posted something since I hadn’t in a while. It’s been a busy month. It started out with my 38th birthday, a quick trip to Las Vegas to see Phantom of the Opera (which was excellent, btw), preparations for Christmas, Michaela’s holiday concert, shopping, entertaining the kid while she was on vacation, snow plowing, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, snow plowing, Matt’s birthday, New Years….did I mention plowing? Here is how lame I have become… I began this post this morning before 8. It’s now 10:22. In the middle of the 2nd sentence of this paragraph I heard someone outside moving snow and the first thought that came to my head was they weren’t going to leave enough snow for ME to move. So I leapt from my chair, pulled on my snow pants over my Tinkerbell jammies (yes, Tinkerbell), threw on my new snow cap over my bedhead, held it all down with my new goggles (which are so nice and such the fashion statement), put on my Chewbacca boots and gloves and ran down to the garage and jumped on the ATV before the neighbor could reach our portion of the sidewalk. I was out there for over an hour, pushing snow up the mountain past our house and two neighbor’s houses. Then I came back down the mountain to our house, cleared our two driveways and the sidewalks of 4 neighbors and driveways of two that live across the street. I am a glutton of punishment. My arms ache and most of my morning is gone. But I managed to chase the neighbor with the pansy riding lawnmower with a plow attachment back into his house while I ripped up and down the street on our new Yamaha Grizzly 400. If I was Tim Taylor, this is where I would grunt “Oh! OH! HO!”

This is where you go, “Geez, Kris…WTF?!” (that’s “what the freak” people…this is a family blog!)

So… yeah. This is how I end 2009 – Certifiably nuts and hell on wheels when behind a snow plow. As for the patches of grass that I ripped up this morning? Conveniently covered up with snow. Nobody will notice til Spring and even then I can blame it on someone else.

You may ask what’s in the cards for 2010… And I can tell you that I have obsolutely no idea. I have no REAL goals as I mentioned before because I don’t do resolutions. To be honest, I don’t even want to start the new year until January 5. From now on every New Year’s is synonymous with Mike’s death. I can’t think of it without thinking what a terrible new year’s eve that was 2 years ago. And how 4 days later, he was gone. So, for me, the new year begins on Tuesday. Mom has told me that on Monday she is planning to distract me. This is good. I find that I get through these kinds of days better when I am doing something else.

As for what comes next after January 4th, I don’t know what this year has in store. I hope that I can start to make sense out of life again. This 2 year fog is getting pretty old. I am ready to forge ahead, whatever that means. I look forward to watching Michaela finish the 2nd grade, celebrating my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary, celebrating Michaela’s 8th birthday and seeing her get baptized. I hope for continued success with my sister’s company so I can keep busy professionally. I would like to learn more about photography and take better pictures. I wouldn’t mind losing some weight. I don’t have a number in mind…but I’d like clothes to fit better and to not be disgusted with myself when I put on a bridesmaid dress for my best friend’s wedding later in 2010 or early 2011. I look forward to riding my new Schwinn that I got for Christmas and I hope to do a little bit more traveling this year. Other than that, my needs are simple…. just breathe!

Happy New Year!

Ya know, I’ve approached this 2nd year differently than the first. During the first year without Mike, I looked towards all the “firsts” with dread, anticipating the pain associated with recognizing a significant event without him for the first time. In hindsight, I would say that I built it up in my mind to be worse than it ended up being. Yes, there were moments of sadness but for the most part it was survivable. I was quite proud of myself actually. Then the 2nd year started and I decided that I was no longer this widow newbie. I had a year under my belt. I had weathered the storm, so to speak and I was now going to be the one people could turn to when they had a loss of their own – become the voice of experience and the supportive shoulder to lean on. Then moments like today happen when I realize that I just may need a little bit more time…or maybe this doesn’t really get any easier. Only the span of time coping with it gets longer.

Today would have been Mike’s 38th birthday. And I am not feeling poetic about how it feels. I cannot provide any prose that would inspire. All I can simply say is that today I am sad. I look at that photo above taken 3 years ago today and I am angry that Michaela won’t just be helping Daddy blow out his candles this year, she’ll be doing it FOR him. He should be here. He should be driving us crazy with all of his desires for the latest gadgets and telling us how old he is now. He should be letting us fawn all over him because today is his day. But the truth is that we’ll remember him, yes. We’ll be grateful for having been part of his life and he apart of ours. But in the end of the day, the reality is we’ll be eating a birthday cake without him and standing over a cold stark grave. And yeah, I will put on the brave face for Michaela later when we do all this but for now…here on my blog, in the not so private moments of my mind, I am going to share with the world this….

You don’t get over death. So don’t even try when death confronts you. All you can do is learn to live WITH it. And there will be moments like these that will bring grief back with a vengence and remind you of all that is lost. And it will suck. It does suck. And it’s ok to let it suck.

Then I became a mom.

I don’t know exactly when it happened for the first time. But I started to notice that I had a drinking problem shortly after the birth of my daughter. No. My vice isn’t alcohol. I just can’t for the life of me take a drink of water, milk, soda – anything without it dribbling out the corner of my mouth and dripping off my chin. Inevitably if I eat spaghetti, for example, I will leave the dinner table with a new design on my shirt – polkadots made of sauce. Or pizza? I may find an olive, dried up and shriveled and STUCK to my shirt an hour later. My personal favorite is popcorn….I keep a treasure trove of that in my bra. My mom once told me that it was what happens when you become a mom. It almost sounded like a badge of honor that I should be proud to wear. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE being a mom. I just don’t like looking like I am 4 months old and can’t hold my rice cereal. My mom has accepted that this just comes with the territory. In fact, it doesn’t even register with her that a Cheerio from 3 days ago can be a snack for later on today. What’s so wrong with that?

So, anyway, what’s the point? I was just thinking about it as I was washing off the chocolate milk that I dribbled down my shirt a few minutes ago. I was thinking about how different my life has become. I’m not complaining…well, not really. Some parts of my life really suck. Actually, ONE thing really sucks. My husband is dead. It is a reality that I live with daily. What’s weird is that sometimes I forget that part of it. I just get so busy and although that’s really great to be busy, it’s a huge depression of my mood when I realize, “Whoa! Mike is DEAD! When did THAT happen?” But I digress….this isn’t supposed to be some wo is me post. It was only spilled chocolate milk, for Heaven’s sake. I shouldn’t cry over it (ha ha). I never really understood what it meant to be one of those frazzled – do everything Moms. At one time, I had a partner. He and I shared lots of the responsibilities – mainly getting Michaela to school, picking her up, etc. For years I would get up in the morning, get dressed and go to work. I’d work the 8-5 job and come home. Some nights Mike was there cooking dinner when I got there. Other nights when it was his turn to work, I would pick up Michaela from my Mom’s and do the nightly ritual of dinner and put the kid to bed. It was a ritual. It was the same every day. It was comfort.

Now, it’s different. Now there is a sense of urgency in my day. Now there is a nagging need to make sure that I do it all. Sure I am bringing it all on myself. Gimme a break. I’ve never been through this before. I have heard people talk about how humbling it is to give service. Try letting some one render you a service. Those chocolate milk stains won’t seem so bad…

So, she doesn’t cry for her Dad. But there are times when she mentions him out of the blue – often in fact. She freely requests to visit him and she loves to talk about the funny things he used to do. It’s healthy for her and me to talk about it. Her Dad was a great guy and he loved her very much. I don’t ever want her to forget that. But time is flying by. It’s only been about 22 months yet Michaela is 7 now and so much “older” than she lets on. I think back to that little girl in the blue dress that touched her Daddy for the last time at the funeral and I can’t believe she’s the same little girl. She keeps much to herself although I try to get it out of her. He was the same way and it drove me nuts. I usually found out how he felt after the fact – usually in something he’d write on his Myspace page or in a card…today I found a little note that Michaela had written to her Dad on his Facebook Page which I still keep active. It said simply, “I love Daddy.”

*sigh* How can you NOT get choked up when you see something like that?! I miss him too, Michaela. More and more every day…

A sense of humor is important. I would say that mine has gotten me out of some tough spots in my lifetime. I was always a chubby kid. I was teased consistently in school. But thanks to my ability to laugh I think I survived well. I don’t know if I would want to relive any of that but if I could knowing what I know now, I think I would have kicked a little more butt. But all that aside…I have my sense of humor to thank for getting me through childhood and most of all, for helping me through this past year and a half. Nothing about my life these almost 2 years now is FUNNY. But…. I still like to laugh. I yearn for laughter and most of all, I seek it out in my daughter. My biggest fear after Mike died was how losing her dad would affect my little girl. This kind of thing can do lots of damage and I just worry that she’ll one day look back on her childhood with regret that it was all taken from her at such an early age. I’m mom. I’m a pretty ok Mom. But I’m not super-Mom no matter how hard I try. I can’t be all things least of all a Dad. But I can try to keep male influences in my daughter’s life, keep her father’s memory alive and encourage that wicked sense of humor that she not only inherited from me but from her jokester father! Mike loved a good prank. I mean, he LOVED it. Somewhere there is a tape with recordings his nephews and him making prank phone calls. They are classic. I wish I could relay in words how funny they are but you just have to listen to them to appreciate the effort he went into making them. I hope I find that tape some day. There was the time that he and my brother spent an evening sending pizzas to one unsuspecting neighbor in our apartment complex – both of them hiding in the shadows of our bedroom staring out the window with glee as every 15 minutes a different pizza delivery guy tried in vain to deliver pizza to this poor woman. Now, I won’t encourage this type of behavior in Michaela but already at 7 she has an unrelenting evil streak in her. She’ll tickle you until you pee if she could. Her latest effort is the squirrel bomb. And yeah..I am to blame for this one. I squirrel bombed a picture of my parents from our cruise this past summer and then again, a picture of our family this fall. We just spent 3 days in California. Every time I pulled out the camera or we found ourselves on a ride at Disneyland that took pictures, I was asked, “can we put squirrel in the picture too?”

So here you have it…the beginning of the Squirrel Bomb Gallery courtesy of my kid. I fear the joke may get old but to a 7 year old, this one will live on for a while and she thinks it’s funnier than anything! Enjoy…

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