Big Time First

I've talked about making it through each "first" and feeling accomplished but so far they have all been very small. This Thursday I will be accomplishing a big first. I am flying for the first time since the accident. My Mom and I are going to Mt. Rushmore for my fall break. I'm super excited for many reasons but I'm also kinda scared. Scratch that, I'm frickin terrified.

I have always wanted to see Mt. Rushmore, it's on my list of cool places. Last year, as Q was flying to airventure in his small plane, he took a picture of it with his cell phone and sent it to me. I was very jealous so we decided that we would go someday. That clearly isn't happening. So, whne the dust settled and I started making my, "Make Q Proud Bucket List" this was one of the first things I thought of. I'm excited to go and see something he saw and carry on our plans. I'm excited for a vacation and the opportunity to travel. It's gonna be a blast.

Now to what scares me. Lets start with the less than obvious. I have no idea how seeing something he saw will affect me. I may be fine and enjoy myself completely or I may crumble and cry. I may even do both in a time span of 5 minutes. (What an adventure this will be for my Mom!)

Now to the obvious, I will be flying. Need I say more? I think I'll be fine once we are in the air but the take-off and landing are gonna suck. I have already been stressing about it for a few days. And by stressing, I mean a full blown panic attack. Here's the kicker, I'm flying on skywest. I'm gonna be sitting in the airport watching Q's old buddies get the plane ready. I bet he even knew the pilot that will be flying the plane. I can already see myself sobbing, wishing my "Mighty Q" was the one throwing the luggage on the plane. Seriously...what was I thinking!?

I'm sure I will be fine, I can survive my first flight...right? Maybe...probably....who knows. I will take ample photos and share some of them when I get back. I'll also fill you in on how I did with this gargantuan step. Wish me luck!!!

Almost 3 Months

This Sunday will be the three month anniversary. I am doing this post early because I want it to be about more than just my wallowing. As you can see, the grave marker has been installed. It is perfect. Q would be happy with the way it turned out. For me, it seems like the final piece has fallen into place. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet. There is no more denying reality now that this stone has been set. (Not like I could deny it before)

You know, it's strange the things I focus on to get me through. I try seeing this pain as a gift from me to him, so that he didn't ever have to feel the way I do. I imagine Q sitting in the cockpit of every plane I see, silently guiding the pilots home. Somehow, I feel better about him being gone if he's helping others stay safe. I dream of carrying on his legacy by learning how to fly. I know if I do, he'll be there on my first solo flight. I dream of opening our little deli one day and naming it after Q. When unexplained things happen, he is always my first thought. When I am worried about Parker, I hope Q is there being his guardian angel. I constantly think about my "Eye in the sky". Every once in a while, I feel him with me.

A little history about the eye in the sky thing. When Q was flying on a weekday, he would plan ahead and fly near I-15 around 5:20 and text me to tell me what the traffic was like that day. He would always start those texts with "Your personal eye in the sky here". Now, I feel like he is watching over me and all the people he loves.

I miss my Sparky. I miss everything about him. I miss him so intensely that I find it difficult to breathe at times. Sometimes I feel silly crying over small things. At times, I feel selfish and flat. Like I'm only playing one tune. I feel terrible for those who have been by my side through all this. I am grateful to have so many people supporting me but I feel like I've been neglecting their needs. I have found out who my true friends are and who I can't count on. I feel myself getting stronger. It is like training for a marathon. You can see the progress you've made in your down time but when you are training you feel weary, tired, stagnant and discouraged.

I am far from in the clear. I feel like a 14 year old girl again, crying and not knowing why. I am getting used to strange things upsetting me. I am learning to deal with smelling his cologne somewhere and hearing his ringtone. I used to stop in my tracks and whip around, convinced that he would be there telling me it was all a joke. I am learning to wait before acting to gauge my true feelings. I am learning how to let people know what they mean to me instead of assuming they already know. I am learning how to be happy without feeling guilt. I am learning how to build a good life for myself. I am learning how to be grateful for what I have instead of looking at what I'm missing. I am working on improving myself everyday. I am building a life that will make Q as proud of me as I am of him.

Coincidence? I Think Not

I have always felt that things happen for a reason. That mere "chance" doesn't exist. In the early days after Q's accident I tried to remind myself of this belief. At times I could cling onto the hope that there was a bigger purpose. Other times I couldn't find the strength to believe it. I still go back and forth from time to time. Mostly though, I am back to believing that there is a reason for everything. I am hoping that one day, everything will make sense and I'll realize why.

I've been looking back on the last few weeks and moments we had together and they all point to what happened. It is as if we were preparing each other yet neither one of us knew what we were preparing for. In one conversation, I mentioned that I thought it would be terrible to be in a personal hell while the world continued, unaware of my pain. He helped me understand that each person has to go through hell at some point in their life. He said that the world would have no way of knowing so I shouldn't take it personally if it ever happened to me. Little did I know that I would be going through it less than a month later.

We had conversations about life and death. We talked about what we thought heaven was like. We watched "The Five People You Meet In Heaven" together. We talked about how we wanted to go and how we wanted to be laid to rest. I told him about my hatred for carnations and that if any were on my casket I would come back and haunt him. He said he'd be sure to have all carnations if that were the case. Then he told me he wanted to be cremated. We were talking about seemingly random things that have so much meaning now.

The day of the accident was different somehow. He was different, we were different. We stayed in bed really late and he didn't mind. (He hated wasting the day away in bed) He held my hand and played with it as I drove to lunch. (He didn't hold my hand very often) He told me he wanted to stay home and just hang out with me, that he didn't care what we did besides being together. (He never shirked his responsibilities for any reason) At the time, I thought these differences were because we had finally finished moving me in. Now I think it was because I needed those last moments to be special. I will carry them as my final memories for the rest of my life.

I don't know how, but Q knew he needed to be very affectionate that day. He probably didn't consciously know it, but I think something was telling him to do be that way. I choose to believe that God was getting us ready for what was about to happen.

I am so grateful that I have wonderful memories to get me through the hard times. I cling onto them when I'm crumbling from the weight of my pain. I laugh at them when it's a good day and something pops into my head. I cherish them.

"Love lost is still love. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken, another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it. Life has to end. Love doesn’t" --Mitch Albom

Change: The Good Kind

I noticed something about myself today, I am comfortable in my own skin. I'm not sure when it happened but I like it. Today, I joined in a class discussion and I didn't get nervous or care if people thought what I said was stupid. I've been making friends like crazy too. I've started a study group for one of my classes and I'm talking to complete strangers. These are all things I've never done before. I can only guess, but I think it's because of my experiences. I know that I will survive no matter what happens. I will come out of it intact. I may be a little flustered and bruised but I'll be intact.

There have been other things too. I laugh more, smile more, work harder and play harder. I have made an effort to make connections with the people around me. I still have a lot of bad moments, more than I'd care to admit. But I am doing my best to take them in stride and lean on the people I trust for support. That's another thing, I am trusting people. I am able to trust them because I trust myself. I even stayed calm today when I noticed a spider crawling on my leg. Talk about incredible, huh?

There are a lot of things I would like to improve on. Giving people the benefit of the doubt before judging them is a big one. I'll get there someday. I'll eventually accomplish the goals I have. I will have the kind of life that would make Q proud. I will do it for him but more importantly I will do it for me. As terrible as all this has been, I have been given a new perspective on myself and the world around me. I like this new way of seeing things. I like being confident in myself. I like this new life I'm building for myself.

Turns Out....Ignorance Really Is Bliss

Fall semester is in full swing. I am once again walking the tight rope between homework and having a life. I used to hate that I was so busy, now I don't mind it. If I have a free moment I try to fill it. I have been getting a maximum 6 hours of sleep a night so by the time I reach the end of the day, I'm too tired to lie awake thinking about my life.

I was sitting in my Intro to Literature class the other day, we were discussing famous poems & quotes. My professor asked a girl what she thought of Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay. (I've included it below for reference) I had a sort of imaginary conversation with this girl and it went something like this:

Girl: It made me sad
Me: (thinking to myself) Um, yeah. That's kind of the point
Girl: Unnecessarily sad. This is why I hate poetry.
Me: Wait, what? You're an English major and you hate poetry?
Girl: I don't understand why this is so sad.
Me: Well, it's about how fragile mortality is. You don't get it do you?
Girl: I guess I can find beauty in it if I really try, but it's just so....depressing! (she said it like it was a filthy, rabid dog. Full of contempt.)
Me: Wow, you really don't get it! It's an outward manifestation of the inner turmoil that is grief. He is using his words as a gift for those like me. Lost in the trenches of despair, wondering if we are the only person to feel this way. He is giving the gift of companionship by showing that other people have felt the same way I do.
Girl: I guess that's what I got out of it, that it's a really sad poem.
Me: Psssh, that's poignant. You must be a genius or something!

At this point I was so annoyed at her ignorance that I was ready to leave class. I looked and saw that I still had 45 minutes left. Crap! I sat the rest of the class half sulking because of her ignorance, half smirking because of her amazing lack of eloquence.

Since then I keep thinking about it. I love that poem, it speaks to me. Probably because of what I've been through. For her, it really is just a sad poem with no meaning. She dismissed it so easily because she didn't understand it. Now I envy her. She has no idea what this feels like. It would be so nice if I was ignorant like her. Not too long ago I was.

I remember discussing this same poem last fall. I didn't understand it then the way I do now. It was a lovely poem, but it meant nothing to me. I dismissed it just as she did. I am jealous of this girl. I want to live in a happy, ignorant world. I want to go back to when I didn't understand this pain.

I suppose there's no point in obsessing with that old life. I'm only torturing myself. I need to pick myself up again, dust myself off, and keep moving. I can do this.

Nothing Gold Can Stay
Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.