It's been two months. I feel like I should have something poignant to say. Something about how much I've learned and grown. Something about how badly I still hurt. I got nothin.
I've been sitting here starting at the screen for 20 minutes. I start typing something and then delete it. I can't seem to think of anything, I'm just sitting here shaking my head.
I am beginning to accept what happened but this life still seems so foreign. I sit in class and think about going home to discuss something I'm learning with Q. Then I realize, almost instantly, that I can't go home and talk to him. (I still talk to him but now it's a one-sided conversation) This sort of thing has been happening all along but now I don't feel that sharp pain when I realize he's not here. I don't understand it. I still ache for him, I miss him more than I ever thought I could miss anything, I wish things were different. So why have I gone numb?
This is ridiculous. I whine about how much it hurts and that I want it to go away and now I'm whining about being numb. What the crap?
I keep telling myself tomorrow will be better. After today I can feel normal for another month. I need to focus on making it this far. I've made it through another month of my new life. I'm another month closer to seeing him again. It sounds horribly morbid to put it that way but there is a strange comfort in the idea.
Memory Time:
We went to the airshow at Hill AirForce Base last year. It was one of our first dates. It was the first day I noticed Q's love for aircraft. He spent all day telling me about all the different components on the planes. He pointed out his favorite WWII plane. I had so much fun but there is one thing I loved most about that day. It started raining in the middle of the day. It only rained for a few minutes, just a small summer storm. He stood behind me, holding me while it rained. I remember thinking it was so romantic. It felt so good to have him behind me. The rain was warm, it smelled so fresh and clean. He was whispering in my ear, flirting with me. I can still picture that day, I remember it like it just happened. There was just something about it that I can't let go of.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Sweet Dreams
A quick update on how I'm doing. Things are slowly getting back to normal, whatever "normal" is. I am doing my best to pick up the sad little pieces of that old life and move forward. I started school again today so that has helped. I am beginning to feel like I have direction again. I've had some amazing people come into my life and I've been reminded of all the amazing people I already had in my life. Everyone has done their part to make it easier on me, each in their own way.
Something happened last night, I had a dream about Q. Not the kind of dream I've described before about trying to save him, it was a good dream that has left me feeling like I can make it. I won't go into all the details about the dream because some are just too meaningful to put on the internet. In my dream, I could see him and talk to him. He looked so incredibly happy. Kid in a candy store happy. There was a light in his eyes that I've never seen before. He said so many things to comfort me. He told me he loved me, that he missed me, that he was proud of me and that I would be ok. Then he kissed me, and I woke up.
Now, I don't know if he was really there. I don't know if our spirits were connected and we actually communicated with each other. I don't know if I've just reached another level of crazy. The skeptic in me wants to dismiss it. The believer in me wants to treasure it. In all reality, whether it actually happened or not is irrelevant. I feel better and that's what matters. I don't fully understand the afterlife and all the rules that go along with it. I'm not so sure I want to understand everything yet.
What I do know is that I'm better today than I was yesterday. I am touched and grateful for what I felt last night. Whatever it was, dream or reality, it came at just the right time. I was at my wits end yesterday. I was wondering if I could keep going. I needed Q to remind me of the good life I have but I knew he couldn't. As I fell asleep last night I wished that my life was different. For a brief moment, it was.
Something happened last night, I had a dream about Q. Not the kind of dream I've described before about trying to save him, it was a good dream that has left me feeling like I can make it. I won't go into all the details about the dream because some are just too meaningful to put on the internet. In my dream, I could see him and talk to him. He looked so incredibly happy. Kid in a candy store happy. There was a light in his eyes that I've never seen before. He said so many things to comfort me. He told me he loved me, that he missed me, that he was proud of me and that I would be ok. Then he kissed me, and I woke up.
Now, I don't know if he was really there. I don't know if our spirits were connected and we actually communicated with each other. I don't know if I've just reached another level of crazy. The skeptic in me wants to dismiss it. The believer in me wants to treasure it. In all reality, whether it actually happened or not is irrelevant. I feel better and that's what matters. I don't fully understand the afterlife and all the rules that go along with it. I'm not so sure I want to understand everything yet.
What I do know is that I'm better today than I was yesterday. I am touched and grateful for what I felt last night. Whatever it was, dream or reality, it came at just the right time. I was at my wits end yesterday. I was wondering if I could keep going. I needed Q to remind me of the good life I have but I knew he couldn't. As I fell asleep last night I wished that my life was different. For a brief moment, it was.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Bucket List
I have created a bucket list of sorts since Q died. It is filled with random things that I have always wanted to do, things we did together and future plans we had made. Here are a few photos of stuff I can cross off the list. Enjoy!
Parker gets a voucher for a free Real Salt Lake game each season he plays soccer. We purchased tickets the beginning of June. The game we had planned on seeing ended up being the day of the funeral. Needless to say we didn't go. We bought more tickets for a game last weekend. They had mascots from all the colleges there that night. Parker ate more than he watched the game but this is an awesome shot of him with one of the mascots.
Last but not least, Parker started his fall season of soccer. He is so excited to be playing again, that boy loves his soccer! He had fun and we even won (technically it is non-competitive but the parents all keep track anyway) Q never missed a game so it was hard to sit there without him. He would quietly bash the other team and he loudly cheer for our team. He even learned all the kid's names and cheered for them individually. He was very proud of Parker.
Every Monday the three of us went to A&W for root beer floats. We all looked forward to it every week. We would sit and talk about our plans for the week and laugh with each other. It has been hard to keep going without Q but we are trying. Now we sit and talk about our favorite memories of Q. I think he'd be very happy to know that we are carrying on our family tradition.
Q and I had talked about taking Parker to the Kennecott mine just a couple weeks before the accident. A few weeks ago I decided to go anyway. We had so much fun! Parker was in awe, he loved the big trucks and learning about copper. I gave him a penny on the way there and he still has it in his cup holder to remind himself of our fun day.
I have written before about Q making me want to be a better mommy and I meant it. We went on family dates more than we went on romantic ones. He was a family man through and through. I can't think of a better way to honor him and show my love for him than to carry on his love of family. We've been doing so many fun things together. We went on a bike ride after work about a week ago, Parker is still talking about it.
Parker gets a voucher for a free Real Salt Lake game each season he plays soccer. We purchased tickets the beginning of June. The game we had planned on seeing ended up being the day of the funeral. Needless to say we didn't go. We bought more tickets for a game last weekend. They had mascots from all the colleges there that night. Parker ate more than he watched the game but this is an awesome shot of him with one of the mascots.
Last but not least, Parker started his fall season of soccer. He is so excited to be playing again, that boy loves his soccer! He had fun and we even won (technically it is non-competitive but the parents all keep track anyway) Q never missed a game so it was hard to sit there without him. He would quietly bash the other team and he loudly cheer for our team. He even learned all the kid's names and cheered for them individually. He was very proud of Parker.We are doing well (most of the time) Every step is hard but little by little it is getting easier. We are doing our best to have fun and rebuild our lives. We have many more plans in the works, I will probably do a post about them soon.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
In My Opinion
Okay, before I begin this post please know, this is not directed to or about anyone, it is just me voicing my perceptions.
One thing I have noticed throughout this process is that everything changes whether you want it to or not. Of course life changes with the loss of someone you love but small things are constantly changing too. Emotions may shift at anytime, simple things may set you off yet big things don't phase you, perceptions of your world vary by the minute. An interesting thing is that it's not all internal, some of it is external. For example, people may treat you differently or the same depending on the situation.
I don't think people are trying to treat us differently, I think it just happens because they don't know what to say or do. You can be laughing and having a great time when someone cracks a joke. After the joke they may think, "Oh, that probably wasn't appropriate." Inevitably this person will be embarrassed even if you aren't hurt/offended. After that they may try any number of things to make it better. Apologizing, back peddling or avoidance are the most common techniques. I cannot speak for others and I wouldn't want to. But for me, I would rather be treated normally even if it might offend sometimes. In those first weeks I reveled in being normal. The greatest thing was having someone ask how I was doing without a look of pity on their face. It was the beginning of rejoining the world. With the shock of loss and grief comes a feeling of alienation. A feeling of, "I'm not normal" because you don't know what to expect. It also comes because there are times when you don't recognize yourself.
There is no way to describe joining this sad little club unless you've done it. There are so many strange moments. Words do not exist to describe the force of being thrust into a new life. I imagine it feels as foreign as living on Mars. Everything you ever thought you knew is put into question. Everything you thought you had is gone. All the work you put into building your life suddenly doesn't matter. You feel as if you did it all for nothing. Your soul is ripped from your body and shattered. You wish your heart would stop beating so you could stop hurting but it won't. You keep breathing, wishing, hoping, wondering. The thoughts that come into your head scare you and comfort you. You rejoice in making it through another day but crumble at the thought of sleeping alone. You become an expert at the "I'm fine" face. You become keenly aware of who you can and cannot trust. You spend all your energy compartmentalizing your life just to survive. Survival is both the goal and the curse you carry with you at all times.
I don't mean to tell you all these depressing things so you feel sorry for those grieving. It is to illustrate that normalcy is the equivalent of paradise. When you live in a world you no longer recognize, a glimpse of being normal again can be what gets you through the day. As with everything it varies by person and situation. Use discretion to the best of your ability. If you are lucky enough to be in the inner circle of someone grieving, be willing to laugh and cry in a span of five minutes. Do your best to read what that person needs at that moment. Don't take it personally if they need to be sad more than happy. Be patient, be loving, be there for them in every way possible. Most of all, be yourself. You wouldn't be in the inner circle if you weren't trusted and loved.
Okay, enough sadness. It's memory time. I relied on Q for a lot, especially venting. I vented about anything and everything. Once, I was very frustrated with work. He told me "It's just a job, not your life. Don't take it personally." He also used to say, "You're making a big deal out of nothing." I find myself repeating those words in my head a lot lately. I can imagine him when I'm feeling really sorry for myself saying those words. "Don't take it personally, you're making a big deal out of nothing." I hope that, wherever he is, he knows how much he is helping me.
One thing I have noticed throughout this process is that everything changes whether you want it to or not. Of course life changes with the loss of someone you love but small things are constantly changing too. Emotions may shift at anytime, simple things may set you off yet big things don't phase you, perceptions of your world vary by the minute. An interesting thing is that it's not all internal, some of it is external. For example, people may treat you differently or the same depending on the situation.
I don't think people are trying to treat us differently, I think it just happens because they don't know what to say or do. You can be laughing and having a great time when someone cracks a joke. After the joke they may think, "Oh, that probably wasn't appropriate." Inevitably this person will be embarrassed even if you aren't hurt/offended. After that they may try any number of things to make it better. Apologizing, back peddling or avoidance are the most common techniques. I cannot speak for others and I wouldn't want to. But for me, I would rather be treated normally even if it might offend sometimes. In those first weeks I reveled in being normal. The greatest thing was having someone ask how I was doing without a look of pity on their face. It was the beginning of rejoining the world. With the shock of loss and grief comes a feeling of alienation. A feeling of, "I'm not normal" because you don't know what to expect. It also comes because there are times when you don't recognize yourself.
There is no way to describe joining this sad little club unless you've done it. There are so many strange moments. Words do not exist to describe the force of being thrust into a new life. I imagine it feels as foreign as living on Mars. Everything you ever thought you knew is put into question. Everything you thought you had is gone. All the work you put into building your life suddenly doesn't matter. You feel as if you did it all for nothing. Your soul is ripped from your body and shattered. You wish your heart would stop beating so you could stop hurting but it won't. You keep breathing, wishing, hoping, wondering. The thoughts that come into your head scare you and comfort you. You rejoice in making it through another day but crumble at the thought of sleeping alone. You become an expert at the "I'm fine" face. You become keenly aware of who you can and cannot trust. You spend all your energy compartmentalizing your life just to survive. Survival is both the goal and the curse you carry with you at all times.
I don't mean to tell you all these depressing things so you feel sorry for those grieving. It is to illustrate that normalcy is the equivalent of paradise. When you live in a world you no longer recognize, a glimpse of being normal again can be what gets you through the day. As with everything it varies by person and situation. Use discretion to the best of your ability. If you are lucky enough to be in the inner circle of someone grieving, be willing to laugh and cry in a span of five minutes. Do your best to read what that person needs at that moment. Don't take it personally if they need to be sad more than happy. Be patient, be loving, be there for them in every way possible. Most of all, be yourself. You wouldn't be in the inner circle if you weren't trusted and loved.
Okay, enough sadness. It's memory time. I relied on Q for a lot, especially venting. I vented about anything and everything. Once, I was very frustrated with work. He told me "It's just a job, not your life. Don't take it personally." He also used to say, "You're making a big deal out of nothing." I find myself repeating those words in my head a lot lately. I can imagine him when I'm feeling really sorry for myself saying those words. "Don't take it personally, you're making a big deal out of nothing." I hope that, wherever he is, he knows how much he is helping me.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Little Triggers
I have been doing so much better, it is unbelievable. Of course doing better comes with more than just that. It comes with feeling guilty about not feeling devastated. It comes with wondering if I am not dedicated enough and a slew of other things. It just sucks but I suppose it is part of the process. Even with how much better I am feeling, little things can set me off.
Yesterday I went to Q's hangar to see his airplane for the last time. He spent years building his plane, it was his life. I thought I would be ok, I wasn't. He had been doing maintenance work trying to get it ready for Oshkosh. (For those who don't know, Oshkosh is a huge, week long airshow in WI) Cory, Q's best friend, shares the hangar with him. Cory had left everything untouched. I walked it and it looked like Q had just been there working. He had left everything the way he always did.
I am so grateful Cory gave that to me. Q had a certain way of doing things, he was very precise. I had gotten used to the way he left things, always just right. Even if it looked like a mess to the outsider, it wasn't, it was just Q. His organized clutter used to drive me crazy but yesterday I loved it.
I loved it and hated it all at once. It broke my heart all over again to see his things the way he left them. I silently cursed both Q and the plane for making me hurt like this. I just stared at it. I tried to hold back the tears but I couldn't. I tried to look away but I couldn't. I gingerly ran my fingers over the tools, gears and bolts. It felt like I was touching him again. It felt like heaven and hell wrapped up together. I knew he wasn't coming back to finish the job but I wanted it so badly. I wanted him to ask me to hold something or fetch a tool. I wanted him there to call me his "lovely assistant". I wanted him to crack jokes about having his two loves together in one place.
I hated that plane at first. It was my competition, it had his heart. After a while, he started giving me his heart and I started loving that plane. We spent so many hours working on it together. He was sharing his whole world with me and I was soaking it up like a sponge. I cannot imagine anyone else flying that plane. I'm sure it will be sold, I am trying to find comfort it the thought of it giving someone else happiness. Maybe I'll get there someday, who knows.
Time for the memory of today. In accordance with the plane theme of this post, I will share a plane memory. This one is my favorite one of all so you should feel very special. I was teasing Q one day (I teased him a lot) about him not having room in his heart for me because he loved airplanes so much. In a completely serious tone he said "I'll just have to move the planes aside then." I was floored! He had been obsessed with planes since he was old enough to know what they were and he wanted to move them aside for me. I think it was the sweetest thing he ever said to me. It meant the world to me.
Yesterday I went to Q's hangar to see his airplane for the last time. He spent years building his plane, it was his life. I thought I would be ok, I wasn't. He had been doing maintenance work trying to get it ready for Oshkosh. (For those who don't know, Oshkosh is a huge, week long airshow in WI) Cory, Q's best friend, shares the hangar with him. Cory had left everything untouched. I walked it and it looked like Q had just been there working. He had left everything the way he always did.
I am so grateful Cory gave that to me. Q had a certain way of doing things, he was very precise. I had gotten used to the way he left things, always just right. Even if it looked like a mess to the outsider, it wasn't, it was just Q. His organized clutter used to drive me crazy but yesterday I loved it.
I loved it and hated it all at once. It broke my heart all over again to see his things the way he left them. I silently cursed both Q and the plane for making me hurt like this. I just stared at it. I tried to hold back the tears but I couldn't. I tried to look away but I couldn't. I gingerly ran my fingers over the tools, gears and bolts. It felt like I was touching him again. It felt like heaven and hell wrapped up together. I knew he wasn't coming back to finish the job but I wanted it so badly. I wanted him to ask me to hold something or fetch a tool. I wanted him there to call me his "lovely assistant". I wanted him to crack jokes about having his two loves together in one place.
I hated that plane at first. It was my competition, it had his heart. After a while, he started giving me his heart and I started loving that plane. We spent so many hours working on it together. He was sharing his whole world with me and I was soaking it up like a sponge. I cannot imagine anyone else flying that plane. I'm sure it will be sold, I am trying to find comfort it the thought of it giving someone else happiness. Maybe I'll get there someday, who knows.
Time for the memory of today. In accordance with the plane theme of this post, I will share a plane memory. This one is my favorite one of all so you should feel very special. I was teasing Q one day (I teased him a lot) about him not having room in his heart for me because he loved airplanes so much. In a completely serious tone he said "I'll just have to move the planes aside then." I was floored! He had been obsessed with planes since he was old enough to know what they were and he wanted to move them aside for me. I think it was the sweetest thing he ever said to me. It meant the world to me.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Reflections
Not long after I met Q I wrote a post about jumping with both feet, you can read it here. It was a very difficult thing for me to do. I'm still not sure why I had such a hard time with it, I'll probably never figure it out. That's not the point though. The point is, I am so glad I made that leap of faith. I chose the best person in the world to give my heart to.
I mentioned in that post that I would be strong enough to get hurt and survive. Looking back it seems I was daring fate to test me. I've been sitting here going back through old posts and that line hit me like a ton of bricks. This was not the hurt I was expecting but I realized an amazing thing. I will survive this.
I felt strong enough to trust someone completely knowing that it might not work out. I wish that things turned out differently. But I can't change what happened, now is the time for accepting it. Something that is helping me is that I'm quickly discovering that I was right, I am strong enough. I think part of that is because I was blessed to experience loving someone with my eyes wide open. I let Q in and it was magical. I know that sounds cheesy and cliche but I have no other way to describe it. It was absolutely magical.
I look back on our time together and I just think, "It was so fun!" Everything we did was fun. Working on Q's house, fixing airplanes together, adopting our kitties, road trips, all fun. We goofed off together, pulled faces at each other, sent dirty jokes back and forth. We acted like a couple of kids. Even when we were being grown-ups we had fun.
Maybe I'm biased now but I even have good memories about when we would fight. I used to get mad at him for being so reasonable during arguments. Its actually quite funny. I remember venting to him about something and he was trying to fix it by giving me advice. I said, "That's not the point" he very calmly replied, "Ok, what is the point?" It was so sweet, but so maddening at the same time. I just wanted to be mad dang-it, and he had to go and be wonderful. It was just who he was. He always wanted to listen and be understanding. I love that about him.
I mentioned in that post that I would be strong enough to get hurt and survive. Looking back it seems I was daring fate to test me. I've been sitting here going back through old posts and that line hit me like a ton of bricks. This was not the hurt I was expecting but I realized an amazing thing. I will survive this.
I felt strong enough to trust someone completely knowing that it might not work out. I wish that things turned out differently. But I can't change what happened, now is the time for accepting it. Something that is helping me is that I'm quickly discovering that I was right, I am strong enough. I think part of that is because I was blessed to experience loving someone with my eyes wide open. I let Q in and it was magical. I know that sounds cheesy and cliche but I have no other way to describe it. It was absolutely magical.
I look back on our time together and I just think, "It was so fun!" Everything we did was fun. Working on Q's house, fixing airplanes together, adopting our kitties, road trips, all fun. We goofed off together, pulled faces at each other, sent dirty jokes back and forth. We acted like a couple of kids. Even when we were being grown-ups we had fun.
Maybe I'm biased now but I even have good memories about when we would fight. I used to get mad at him for being so reasonable during arguments. Its actually quite funny. I remember venting to him about something and he was trying to fix it by giving me advice. I said, "That's not the point" he very calmly replied, "Ok, what is the point?" It was so sweet, but so maddening at the same time. I just wanted to be mad dang-it, and he had to go and be wonderful. It was just who he was. He always wanted to listen and be understanding. I love that about him.
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