I DID IT!

It's December 1st... I DID IT! I made it through a year without Steven. I have never felt more accomplished and independent and exhausted. In a year, I have learned how to be a widow, a new mother, a single mother, a messenger of the Lord, an optimist. I've allowed the bad days to make me better, not bitter. I have accomplished everything that I was determined to accomplish after Steven's accident. Losing Steven at such a young age taught me to live everyday to the fullest. When I wanted a new car, I bought one without a second thought. When I decided that I could no longer live in the home we had made our memories in, I found another for Andrew and I to make new memories in. When I wanted to vacation, I packed our bags and left on a whim. Every time we went to the store, Andrew got to pick out a new toy. Money can't buy happiness, but it's also useless sitting in the bank. I couldn't begin to count the days when I wondered when the money would run out, but I had also made myself a deal after the accident, to spend it lavishly; you see, Steven was conservative, he saved every penny, and let me be the first to tell you that it didn't do him any favors. He worked all the overtime he could get and often volunteered to work through vacation... and for what? A retirement he never saw? I say this to remind my followers, not to work your lives away. Spend as much time with your family as you can afford.
The one year mark has passed and I intend to be more responsible from this point forward; I'll start by paying off the debt I accrued this year, but I'm guessing Andrew will still get whatever he wants at the store. Also, don't bother robbing me, there's nothing left to take. ;)
I know that God has a big plan for me and I welcome His intentions with open arms. I'm going to focus on being a good Mother and wait for whatever comes next. And if what comes next is nothing more than Andrew and I, that will be alright, because though I may be young, I have lived a full life. I married the man of my dreams and for 410 days after that, I laid down with only him. I was a damn good wife and on the night that he died, I told him that I loved him one last time. Since then, I have given life to the most perfect combination of the two of us. I have laughed and loved. I have smoked and drank and gone to church on Sunday morning. I sing, dance, cuss, sin, and praise God every single day! My life is not easy, nor do I expect it ever will be. But without a doubt, my life has been full and I have been blessed!
With a tear in my eye tonight, I say this: You are only as happy as you choose to be. My heart aches everyday, but sometimes that's how I know it's still beating; that's how I know I'm alive! It is a reminder to live for the ones who can't anymore.

"Though she be but little, she is fierce!" -William Shakespeare

Guardian Angels

I've thought about blogging on this topic a hundred times, but I never wanted to upset my followers. I've always believed in guardian Angels, but I have never believed that Steven was my guardian Angel. Stay with me on this one... it's something I've struggled with since he passed away, but tonight my beliefs have been challenged.
It's difficult for me to believe that our loved ones watch over us from Heaven. If Heaven is a place where there is no pain and no suffering; if it's a place where we spend eternity in peace, how could our loved ones watch over us and not be sad? Since the second that I learned of Steven's death, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Andrew was and always would be my guardian Angel. In the days following the tragedy, he gave me a reason to stay calm. He brought to me a superpower. Giving birth to a healthy child was far bigger and far more important than mourning. After his birth, he needed (and always will need) me to be a strong and graceful role model. Since then, I've met other people who seem to watch over me - Angels walking on earth, dressed as ordinary people, but I could never bring myself to believe that Steven or anyone other than God, was looking down on me from Heaven.
The last few months, I haven't been able to feel Steven the way others do. I now realize that I haven't wanted to. I've wanted to get on with my life. I know I can never forget what happened, but I was so focused on moving forward that I stopped welcoming the memories. On Saturday, I went to visit Steven for the first time since the funeral. I needed to talk to him. I asked him only to help me, believing for the first time that he could. And tonight he did. I was sitting in my car and I saw a shooting star. The first shooting star I ever saw was with Steven, just before he was deployed to Iraq. The stars became an important symbol in our relationship. When I saw the shooting star tonight, I felt Steven. And I realized, after he died, I saw a shooting star, at his friend's birthday party last weekend, I saw 5 shooting stars in one night.... 5. How could I have missed it? He was there. He's been here all along. I just haven't been looking...
Do I believe now that Steven is my guardian Angel? I'm truly not sure. But I absolutely believe that someone is looking out for me; maybe it's my loving husband, maybe it's my loving God. One thing is for sure, I'm going to work a little harder at allowing Heaven back into my daily life and allowing the love of Heaven to guide me.

"I've seen an met Angels, wearing the disguise of ordinary people living ordinary lives!"  -- Tracy Chapman

Is it dementia? Or is it a heartache?

I've been thinking a lot today about time. Time is a funny thing and I realized today that I really have no concept of it. We spend much of our lives looking at the clock and scheduling our days, but for what reason? It's been 10 months since Steven passed away, I'm not even sure how long that is. November 30th - a date that will haunt me forever, but it's nothing more than a number on the calendar. And when I think back to that day it's nothing more than a blur. I don't remember who I talked to on the phone or who sent me a message on Facebook. It's just a day. A number. It's just a bad memory. Someone compared my confusion with time to dementia. There is no better way to describe it. I have many memories built up in my mind, but the time in which they happened is foggy. Andrew is now 9 months old. How did this happen? When did he get so big?

In the days following Steven's death, I tore my house apart looking for letters that Steven had written me, a Valentines Day card, a request from the grocery store.... anything! Unfortunately, I've never been an overly sentimental person and I use to throw everything away. I could only find one letter.. one out of hundreds. Remember that Steven was overseas for a year, so there was no shortage of letters. Yet, I could only find one. Last week, the good Lord blessed me more than I ever knew was possible. Not with possessions or anything of monetary value, but with two more letters that I will hold close to my heart forever. Two letters that had been stashed over the years and lost among old bills and paperwork. Tonight I'd like to share one of them with you:

Caitlin,
I was thinking of this letter yesterday when I was hunting. I wanted to write it then, but I didn't have any paper or pen. I was thinking about you and us being married, how strange life turns out and how we are gaining the start of the typical American Dream. We don't get to spend the amount of time we'd like too together, but we still have a good time when we get a chance, I guess destiny is real afterall, we never planned on being where we are in Jan 2007, but it happened regardless. I know I pick on you and get agitated from time to time about your "unique" way of doing things, but deep down that's what makes me love you, without you I may still own this house and my possessions, but I'd never have the home we do now, you make everything worthwhile, I love you very much and I really do appreciate all you do for me.
Love you always
Steven

"But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day."  - 2Peter 3:8

My Testimony of Faith

It's hard to believe Steven has been gone just over 8 months now. For much of his family, it seems like he just stopped by to visit yesterday, but for me it seems like he's been away for many years. Maybe because I'm so much closer to his absence than they are. I spent every day with him and they saw him 3 times a week. Never-the-less, Andrew and I are well! We've been to revival several times this week with the gentleman I've been seeing. And as revivals go, I am on fire for the Lord! Tonight, God laid it on my heart to stand up and tell my story, so I did as he told me to! I realized however, that everyone needs to hear my testimony! Maybe this is God's purpose for my life?

My name is Caitlin and 8 months ago I lost my husband in a tragic accident. I was 9 months pregnant and I could have given up on God. I could have washed my hands of religion and given up, but I DIDN'T. Instead, I got down on my knees and I prayed. I prayed hard! I asked God for help. I begged him to give me what I needed to keep moving. I told him that I wanted to trust in him, but I didn't know how. If you don't know the power of prayer, let me be the first to tell you it works. He answered my prayers that evening and he continues to answer every day. I had lost my will to live. But now, with God's amazing grace, I wake up every morning and I am so thankful to be alive. I praise God for another day on Earth to protect my baby boy. Every morning I am reminded that this is God's plan for my life and that it is my job, as his messenger, to stand up and tell the world what my God has done for me. He took my husband, but he also gave me a beautiful baby boy.... and bigger than that, he sent Jesus Christ to die (a brutal death) for me! I'm nobody, just a sinner. But my God loves me so much that he sent his only Son to die for me, so that I will one day get to see my husband again... so that one day, my innocent baby boy will get to meet his wonderful father and live in eternal peace with him! It doesn't get any better than that! My God is awesome!

If you haven't met my God, I challenge you to talk to him. He knows your heart and he'll give you what you need, but first you'll have to ask.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." -John 3:16

Moving Day

After the funeral, I was 9 months pregnant and all alone. Left with an empty house in the middle of God's country, I realized quickly that it was in my best interest to move closer to my family. I packed up the important stuff; documents, pictures, and everything of financial worth. Since then, I have been back only a handful of times. Tonight I sit on the front porch of a house I once called home and write this entry. I came back to pack up the rest of our belongings and to clean up, in hopes of selling. I realize now why I haven't been here. It isn't because I don't have time, though I have been convincing myself and everyone else that's the reason. It's because I'm angry. For a while I thought I might have skipped over the anger phase of grief for the most part. Sure, I've had my moments, but over all I haven't been angry. I was wrong. I've only learned to avoid the anger. But, unlike most grievers, I am not angry with God. I'm angry with Steven...


2011

My yard has become a hayfield, because the man who mows the grass hasn't been here. There are trees down, because the chainsaw master hasn't been around. My kitchen smells empty, because I have no one to cook for. The bedroom where I once made love to my husband, in hopes of growing our family, has nothing in it but a bed frame. Steven left me with this mess, but more than that, he left me with broken dreams.

Have you ever noticed how much your mind wanders when you're alone and in complete silence? Yesterday, I found myself thinking that I could probably siphon enough gas out of the four-wheeler to burn the house down and just walk away. Today, I looked around and then looked to the sky and asked God,"Why, me?" SCARY! I've never been one to question God's plan! One thing is for sure, I have to face reality and sell the house. Knowing that it is the place my anger stems from, I need to walk away from it and never look back. Steven and I made many beautiful memories in this house, but the house itself is nothing more than an earthly possession. I carry the memories in my heart and wherever I go, they will follow.

"He who angers you, conquers you." -Elizabeth Kenny

Counting Blessings!

Today marks 6 months since Steven passed away. It feels like so much longer. If I had no way to tell time or count days, I would guess it's been years. So much has changed in my life since he died. In the days following the accident I had only one consistent thought, "I have a baby to focus on. I must have a healthy baby". Nothing else mattered. Andrew kept me focused. He kept me moving forward. He is still blessing me with that same focus six months later. Every day I wake up and I thank God for another day with him. It's the first blessing I count in the morning and the last blessing I count at night. I no longer take my life for granted. I may not have everything I want, but I am blessed beyond measure. Andrew is the inspiration behind everything I do. I bought a new house. One that I can see him growing up in. A house with a beautiful view of the mountains and river. A house full of windows and sunlight. A house that I see us being very happy in. I intend to sell the home Steven and I made. It's not something I want to do. It's something I have to do. Being in that house only brings me agony. Andrew and I have gone on a few vacations together where we laughed and played and took a million pictures. I intend to start a nonprofit support group to help families who lose loved ones in the future. God has put a wonderful man in my life. A man whose faith is as strong as mine. A man who welcomes me to talk about Steven. He listens when I need to talk and understands that I miss my husband everyday. He's good to my Son and that, in itself, is more than I ever expected to find. In fact, I didn't find him. I assumed there would never be anyone who would willing come into our lives and accept my long list of non-negotiables, but God sent him to me. I've fallen head over heals for him and I cannot begin to explain why. I've been blessed with in-laws who support my journey, though I would understand if they couldn't. Together Steven and God gave us these things and for that I will be eternally grateful. I always knew that Andrew and I would be alright, but now I know that we will be more than alright. We are going to continue moving forward and smiling through every struggle. We will do this, because I choose happiness and I believe with every ounce of my soul that God will show Andrew the way, just as he has showed me. More than anything, Steven has given me an incredible faith. He has brought me closer to God. He has saved me.

"She is clothed with strength and dignity; and she laughs without fear of the future."  - Proverbs 31:25

Coincidence? I think not.

As of today, I have now reviewed and analyzed both the State and Federal accident reports, the ambulance report and the autopsy. As difficult as it was to relive Steven's final moments, I am glad I did. I finally feel at peace. I am no longer left to wait for answers. I have all of the answers that I will ever have. I know now that if Steven suffered, it wasn't for long. I also know how I can get more involved to help families, similar to mine, in the future.
This week has been eye opening for me. I can feel God pushing me in the direction that he wants me to go and I am taking the path without hesitation. I have realized that moving on with my life doesn't mean that I love Steven any less. It's just something that I have to do for myself and for our son. I have been praying hard for the Lord to show me the way and to make it obvious enough that I cannot miss it. He is doing just that. I couldn't sleep one night and was fighting with something that one of the reports said (I wish I could explain, but I cant). So, to pass the time, I started looking through my phone at old photos. Right there, in front of me, was the answer I needed. A picture that I didn't remember taking, of a section of mine safety law. There has been no shortage of these occurrences. About a month after the accident, I received a handwritten letter in the mail from someone I hadn't seen since high school. The letter was beautifully written and I have been carrying it around with me ever since. I couldn't pinpoint why, but the letter seemed to bring hope on even the worst days. Last week, I ran into this person. As I said before, I hadn't seen him in 7 years or more. I do not believe in coincidence. I believe completely that God reunited us. Don't misunderstand me, I am not ready to jump back into the dating pool, but he has given me hope. Hope that I wont be alone for the rest of my life. Hope that God doesn't expect me to be. Hope that there is a man out there who could accept my past, understand that I will always love Steven, and acknowledge that he will forever be a part of our lives. Hope that there is still room in my heart for happiness.
Every day I turn a new page in the book of life and every day I learn something new about myself. I'm blessed beyond measure. And though my life may not be turning out the way I had once planned, it is turning out the way God intended.

"Just because Fate doesn't deal you the right cards, it doesn't mean you should give up. It means you have to play the cards you get to their maximum potential."  - Les Brown

Milestones and HOPE

I realized something today: If not for rain, we wouldn't have flowers.

Steven would have turned 28 years old today. It also marks 5 months since Jesus called him home. 151 days since I last hugged my best friend. 3,648.5 hours since I last saw his smile. Today has been a milestone.

Despite the agony these numbers have brought, I learned something. The day started out gloomy, looking like rain with no sun in sight, but as it progressed the sun began to shine and temperatures hit 76 degrees. I love spring. It's a time of renewal and hope for a beautiful tomorrow. Caterpillars become butterflies and behind every fence, there are baby animals finding their feet. The old saying says, "April showers bring May flowers". Isn't this the true spirit of hope?? Though it may rain today, the sun could shine tomorrow. The same is true in times of tribulation. Today may be the worse day of my life, but if I can just get through it, tomorrow might be the best. Looking back on the days following Steven's death, I now understand how important it is to hold onto hope. Steven passed away on November 30, 2012 - it was the worst day of my life. But, I kept moving forward and exactly 3 weeks later, our Son was born - which will forever be the best day of my life. I'm learning to appreciate the rain and to HOPE for a more beautiful tomorrow!

"Three grand essentials to happiness in this life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for." - Joseph Addison

We Remember!

 

After weeks of planning and nearly $1,500.00, Steven's Memorial Celebration was an absolute success! Going into the idea of "celebrating Steven's life" was tough, but it had to be done. I know many still have not come to terms with the ugly truth that he's gone and for this reason we expected that his birthday would be devastating. When one of Steven's family member's said to me, "Steven's Birthday is coming up." I knew that I had to throw him an amazing party and I had to make sure the tears were kept at a minimum. He loved to be with his family and friends, he loved to be outdoors, and he loved to eat - so that's were I started planning.



Happy Birthday, Daddy!

I rented a bounce house for the children, made plans for my Dad to man the grill, and his family helped to make the potatoes, baked beans, hot dog chili, and macaroni salad. My mom ordered a beautiful cake and his friends brought the beer! After dinner, everyone was given a balloon and permanent markers were passed around. Some of us told Steven happy birthday, some of us told him we missed him, and some of his buddies drew pictures (though I wont go into detail on that). When all were finished, we sent the balloons to Heaven. It was a beautiful sight and I would imagine that everyone who saw it experienced a mix of emotions. Releasing the balloons was the hardest part of the day, for me. Andrew and I said, "We love you, Daddy" and the words burned straight through my soul. It's strange how one minute I can be strong, happy, and full of life, but with 3 words that can all change and suddenly I've never felt more fragile.

Thank God for Steven's friends though, they must have noticed the tension and next think I know they are shooting rifles and everyone is gathered around watching. As it started to get dark, the boys started a bonfire and the drinking began. Everyone who came, left with a t-shirt and a key chain that said, "In Loving Memory of Steven O'Dell" with his picture.


Steven's amazing friends! And even more amazing wife...

I think if Steven could have seen us, he would have been proud! And if he could have been there, he would have had a blast! I'm very thankful that I planned the party and that everyone attended despite thier anxiety about it. It was nice to have everyone together and even nicer to see so many smiles.

Money well spent. Time well wasted. Memories worth making!






Manipulating time

I've been avoiding my blog for a few weeks now, mostly because I don't have much to say. Most days I just feel empty and when I do have something to say it's not positive. I've always had an optimistic personality, so when my cup starts getting empty, I don't really know how to handle it. I've been trying really hard to channel my anger and emotion in a positive proactive direction - doing things I enjoy and getting my house in order. Andrew and I went on vacation to Florida with my family and though I thought I was getting away from the grief, I actually wasn't. It became more of a reminder of the things Steven is missing. I'm also trying to let my mind wander more - whereas, before, I avoided my thoughts as much as possible. I've been thinking a lot about my time with Steven, as a whole. I've gone through the motions of our relationship; the ups, the downs, the break ups, the deployment. I started thinking, if I could go back and change anything, would I? If I could manipulate the past, would I? After playing around with these thoughts for a couple weeks, I decided the answer is yes. Let me first say that it takes more vulnerability to put the following thought on paper than anyone could ever imagine:
Steven knew that I loved him. He knew that I was happy. He knew that I supported him, that I trusted him, that I admired him, and that I respected him. He knew that my biggest aspiration in life was to be a good wife and mother and that I looked forward to the family we were starting. We fought hard, but we loved hard too. Our battles made us stronger and even though we spent time apart, the distance would later become a reminder that we could conquer the world together.
I wouldn't go back and reassure him of any of that, because he knew. I wouldn't trade the ups and downs, because they gave us an unbreakable bond.
I'm sure someone is wondering, would I give up my life to save his? It pains me to say no. This is a battle I fight everyday, because as much as I want to say yes, it simply isn't the truth. I was pregnant. To give up my life would mean giving up Andrew's too and as much as I loved Steven, I love our baby so much more.
But, if I could manipulate time, I would. I would have been there when he took his final breath. I would have been by his side. I would have held his hand. I would have prayed with him one last time. He wouldn't have been alone.

"People spend too much time finding other people to blame, too much energy finding excuses for not being what they are capable of being, and not enough energy putting themselves on the line, growing out of the past, and getting on with their lives."  - J. Michael Straczynski

Slop and Tator Tots

So many of my followers look to me for inspiration and strength, but I refuse to sugar coat my emotions for their benefit. The truth is that the last couple weeks have been really difficult. I'm fighting with my faith and I'm fighting to understand something that can't be explained. That is the uncensored truth. My favorite quote has always been: "I'd rather have 5 minutes of wonderful, than a lifetime of nothing special!" It is still my favorite and it is still the truth. I will forever be grateful for my time with Steven. My anger, however, comes in to play when I realize that my son - my sweet, innocent, untainted, baby boy, didn't get 5 minutes. He didn't even get 5 seconds.

The memories that drag me down are the same memories that get me through the day. It never fails; everyday I am reminded of Steven's quirks. Today, it started with tator tots. I was with my in-laws when Steven's sister, Cari, was making her grocery list. She mentioned that she had tator tots in the freezer and I immediately smiled. You see, Steven was a meat and potatoes kind of guy. He liked his meat on one side of the plate and his potatoes on the other. Under no circumstances should the two be mixed together and mentioning the word casserole might as well have been a sin. One night, I asked him what he wanted for dinner. He said he didn't care, so I told him I had hamburger thawed. I reminded him that we had spaghetti the night before and I really didn't want hamburgers or tacos, so I was going to throw some stuff in a dish and call it a casserole. He thought I was kidding. An hour later, I called him to come in the kitchen and fix a plate. The look on his face was priceless. He said, "I ain't eatin' this slop! What is it anyway?" Smiling I said, "I'm calling it hamburger casserole and if you don't want any, there is a Hungry Man in the freezer - help yourself." Steven picked up a spoonful, dropped it back into the casserole dish, and about that time I heard him say, "Wait a minute.... are those tator tots? I like tator tots."
He was always funny like that. We were constantly in a power struggle. He was the King of our castle. If he wanted meat and potatoes, I'd give him meat and potatoes, but he got them however I felt like cooking them. Actually, I just decided on a name for that dish - it will forever be called "Slop".

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief... and unspeakable love."   - Washington Irving

Stage 2

It’s official, I moved passed denial and ran head first into anger. Actually, I’m not angry. I’m more than angry, I am pissed off!

Tonight, I read Andrew a story from a children’s parables book. The story was based on the Parable of the Persistent Widow; Luke 18: 1-8. I should have known better. I should have skipped it and gone on to the next. The story was about a little girl whose father dies and she prays that God will send her a new father. We finished the story and as always, I grabbed Steven’s picture, we said our prayers, and told Daddy goodnight. It was then that I realized the picture is of Steven’s head on my pregnant belly and that is as close as he ever got to Andrew. It was then that I realized Andrew will never know the sound of his Father’s voice or see the look on his Father’s face when he was determined to figure something out. I lost my cool, not because I was sad, but because I was angry. I just don’t understand why.

The people around me have noticed this change. I know this, because I keep getting the fifth degree. I also know the exact moment when the denial turned to anger. It was Saturday night, I was out having a few drinks with some friends for my birthday. It was closing time, the DJ started playing slow, sad, country music and I went to the bar to retrieve my tab. There, I bumped into someone I hadn’t seen or talked to in a few years, someone who did not know the hell I have been through. He asked how I’d been? I told him I had a new baby and pulled out a picture to brag. He asked why I tensed up? If I tensed up, I didn't notice. While pointing to the picture, I said, “His Daddy died. I don’t want to talk about it.” and I left the bar. My girlfriend later told me that she knew something had happened, she just didn’t know what. I haven’t been the same since. I’m not sure why though. I don’t know why that was the mind altering moment. I cried all the way home and continued crying when I got there. It took nearly an hour for me to get myself together to go pick up my son.

Needless to say, I have spent the majority of this week with my nose in the Bible. I keep hoping - and praying- that somewhere, I will find the answers I need. I feel my faith taking a hit, so I push myself to keep reading. I bought a book called “When Women Walk Alone” and all it has done is piss me off further. It basically says that when women are left alone, it is so their relationship with the Lord can prosper. I hope my Christian friends can forgive me for this: But, what a load of crap! Our relationship is not prospering, I am fighting to keep the relationship! So, I ordered a devotional journal that was written specifically for a Widow, by a Widow. There is no other way to describe what I am feeling - just angry! A little bit angry for me, but mostly angry for Andrew. If there is one thing that I learned from tonight’s Parable, however, it’s that if I keep praying, God will answer. He may not answer as quickly as I’d like, but eventually, he will answer.

Excess of grief for the dead is madness; for it is an injury to the living, and the dead know it not. -Xenophon

 

"Thanks for the Privilege!"

It’s been a while since I had to get up and start my day with the sunrise. I forgot how beautiful the world is in the morning, but as always I start my day thinking of Steven. This week has been more difficult than most, though I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the effects of my birthday and the death of yet another miner. I know that I have been in denial and I believe that I’m starting to come out of that phase of grief. I knew it would happen sooner or later and I have expected that one day it would hit me like a ton of bricks that Steven is gone. Forever. I also expected that it would break me. I’ve been spending more “me-time” lately, going out with friends and doing things that I enjoy, but it never fails; on my way home, I feel guilty. It’s hard to explain, but I almost feel like I shouldn’t be having fun. It’s like when I am carrying on, laughing, and enjoying my life, I am somehow doing an injustice to my marriage and to Steven’s memory. I know I can’t feel this way, but I do.

This morning I have been thinking about Steven’s morning routine. Now remember, that his morning was about 6:00pm, because he worked night shift most of the time. Every evening when he woke up I would fix him a cup of coffee. Usually, I fixed his breakfast, but ALWAYS the coffee. He would go straight to the couch when he woke up and I would deliver his coffee cup to him... always the black mug, because coffee tastes different in a white mug. Did you know? He used to jokingly tell me to thank him for the privilege and I would. I miss those quirks. More than anything, I miss that stupid coffee mug. Every single day, he would leave for work and that coffee mug would still be sitting on the end table. I know he did it just to irritate me. I told him once that if he died before I did, I would miss that damned coffee mug. I just didn't expect to miss it so soon. It's ironic to think that I knew, even then, that I would miss it. And I do. I wish I could tell him, just one more time, "Thank you for the privilege, Honey!" and then of course, whisper under my breath, "pain in the ass..."

"When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive - to breath, to think, to enjoy, to love."  - Marcus Aurelius

Wake Up Older

I guess tomorrow I will be another year older. As if getting older isn't bad enough, it will be the first birthday I have spent without Steven in 6 years. He was always good at the birthday thing. My favorite birthday gift of all time was the 357 revolver he gave me... even though he wouldn't let me have the pink one I wanted. I remember him giving me a speech about how no one was afraid of a pink gun. It didn't take long for me to figure out the real reason I couldn't have it -- he wouldn't be able to take it when I wasn't looking. Funny guy.

This year I will do everything in my power to look at my birthday in a positive way. I may be getting older, but that only means I am one step closer to the final destination; Heaven. I am one year closer to seeing Steven again. This must be difficult to understand for anyone who doesn't have someone special waiting for them to get there.

For those who are curious, I will be 24 this year. I have lived a lot of life in 24 years. In fact, I do not feel 24 at all. I feel 34. I'm not the same person that I was a year ago. I'm sure that girl is still inside of me somewhere, but she's been covered up with responsibility and disapointment. I have been forced to grow up; partially because of conscious choices I have made and partially because of my circumstances. In less than two years, Steven and I bought a house, moved in, got married, got pregnant, he died, and I was left to have a baby, alone. Being a single Mother was never part of my plan, but they say life is what happens while we are busy making plans. I have no regrets. I loved Steven as much as a woman can possibly love her husband and I was a good wife! Now, I will carry on and be a good Mother. This year, Steven has given me the ultimate gift. A gift that I could never give myself. A son.

So, tomorrow, I will wake up older. But, I will also wake up thankful.

"We have to be able to grow up. Our wrinkles are our medals of the passage of life. They are what we have been through and who we want to be." - Lauren Hutton

Normal

On Sunday, I recorded the season premier of Army Wives, and just finished watching it. If you have never watched the series, it is brutally heart wrenching at times. This particular episode was all about the death of the General's Wife. Needless to say, I struggled through it. When the General and his daughter were sent to view the body for the first time, I thought I was going to be sick. It brought out emotions that I thought I had smothered, like a flame without oxygen. It brought up tears that I didn't think I had left. My mind instantly went back to when I saw Steven's lifeless body for the first time. The funeral director put his hand on the small of my back and led me into the room. Instant agony. I have never felt pain like that. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart, shredded even. My body felt so heavy that I couldn't lift my foot to move forward. All I wanted to do was vomit, to scream, to hit something. I put my hand on Steven's hand and it was as cold and as hard as the wedding band on his finger. When the director brought in Steven's grandmother and sister, I had to leave the room. Cari screamed the most blood-curdling scream I have ever heard. She kept screaming, "No! No!" All I wanted to do was run. I wanted to go home and crawl in bed next to my husband, but I knew he wasn't there. I had just seen him. I had touched him. He was never going to be in our bed again.

A friend on facebook shared my blog a while back, calling me a "real-life wonder woman," She was wrong. I'm just like everyone else. I hurt and I cry. I go outside at night and I talk to the sky, even though I know he can't hear me. I lay in bed and ask God, "why?" even though I know I'm not suppose to. I show our Son pictures of his father and wonder how in the hell I am ever going to make this okay for him. I pray that God will give me every ounce of his pain, so that he will never have to feel it.

I just don't show that vulnerability in public. In fact, I rarely show it anywhere other than this blog. I simply don't want to talk about it. It hurts too much. Not to mention, most people don't know what to say to me anyway. Awkward. Here's the thing: I don't need people to feel sorry for me. I don't need a pat on the back. I need to feel normal.

"We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey."  -Kenji Miyazawa

A Perfect Plan

The last few weeks have been crazy. Andrew was sick with RSV, I got the adult version, my grandfather passed away, we went with my Mother to Maryland to pick up my Grandmother.. well actually, we picked up her ashes and toted her to Florida for a final visit (morbid, I know :)) while we tied up my grandfather's affairs, and tomorrow we head up to New York for the funeral.
Andrew took his first ride in an airplane and loved the sand at the ocean. He's grown so much in the last few days, finally getting control of his hands. There are no words to describe the joy I felt when he first got ahold of the toy on his car seat and made it crinkle. Pride. I am blessed to have a healthy, intelligent baby. I know many people aren't able to experience these simple pleasures. I also know that many people aren't able to recognize these blessings.

Losing my grandfather hasn't been easy. As with Steven, I wish he could have met my little stud. This is yet another reminder to live every day to the fullest. Never wait until tomorrow to do something you could do today.
I am understanding more every day that God has a plan for me. A perfect plan. On the flight to Florida, I was seated next to a perfect stranger. After some small talk, I discovered that he is a Superintendent for a mine in WV. He knew of my husband's accident and agreed to take me underground for the purpose of better understanding the production in a coal mine. I believe doing this will help me to better fight and make changes for the benefit of other mine employees. Ironic? No. It's more than ironic. I was supposed to meet that perfect stranger. My grandfather put me on that plane. Steven put me on that plane. GOD put me on that plane!

I do find myself laughing, sometimes. Steven had a ton of respect for my "Pop-Pop". I can still hear Steven saying, "is your Pop-Pop going to dinner?" Hilarious to hear a grown man saying. He used to joke that he just knew my grandfather was in the Mafia. Pop-Pop's name was Don. He always had his hair gelled back, wore a bulky gold ring on his right hand, was slightly shorter than most men, and spoke with a stern New Yorker accent, on top of driving a luxury vehicle at all times. I imagine, they are laughing about it in heaven. I know they are both there, with the rest of our loved ones. Waiting, on me to finish my work on Earth, or God's work rather.

"Pray as though everything depends on God. Work as though everything depends on you." -Saint Augustine

Call Me Geo...

Just before Steven passed away, he was looking for a new work car. The old work car had taken it's last breath and he was temporarily driving my brand new Jeep to the coal mine. If you've ever been near a mine, you know how filthy they are and it's the last place you want your new car to be driven. We had discussed a budget and I was annoyed with the subject. He knew I was tired of taking the Jeep to the car wash and it was becoming a regular argument, but he was struggling to find a decent vehicle. Long story short - the issue was weighing heavy on us both.

You have to know the above information to understand tonight's story:

One morning, Steven came in from work. I was getting ready for the day and he was getting ready for bed. Out of the blue he says, "You know, you're like an old work car." Not knowing exactly where he was going with this statement, I replied dryly, "Uh huh? Explain." He continued on, "You know.. you're like an old work car. Your miles are getting a little high and it's time to trade you in on something a little newer." As you can imagine, I wasn't amused. Steven continued on, "You don't buy a work car thinking it's going to be your life long companion... you just buy it to use for a little while. When it starts falling apart, you get something else. And every now and then, when you are out looking for a Cavalier, you get lucky and stumble across a good deal on a Corvette." At this point, I likely said something along the lines of "Cool it" or "Take it easy." I was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing lotion on my ankles. They were swollen due to pregnancy and I guess Steven saw an opportunity to keep going. The next words out of his mouth were, "...and it looks like you need a new set of tires."

I have to admit, I was amused. He was always picking on me and I liked it. I guess it's the way I was raised. My Dad has always picked on my Mother in the same way. I remember Dad telling Mom she was asinine a couple years ago and Steven laughed for days over it.

Anyway, the conversation had ended and after thinking about it, I went back in the bedroom and said to Steven, "You're a real asshole, you know that?" Without missing a beat, he responded, "Yeah. Well. You're a Geo Tracker!"

"Humor does not diminish the pain - it makes the space around it bigger."  - Allen Klein

60 Days Later...

Two months ago today, I had been in Beckley, at a meeting for the Friends of Coal Ladies Auxiliary. I was planning to start a chapter in Nicholas County. Steven was not a fan of my constant volunteer work, because it meant I was home less in the evenings, but he fully supported my desire to get involved with the Friends of Coal and advocate on their behalf. After all, we were a coal family! I left the meeting and called him on my way home. Of course, he was hungry, so I offered to stop and grab a couple sandwiches at Subway. His usual; BMT. I got home just in time to help him pack his lunch bucket and tell him about my day. 20 minutes later he was out the door and as always, I met him there with his bucket and a kiss goodnight. He was in such a good mood that evening and as he galloped through the garage toward his truck, he hollered, "Love you, Cock-Monkey! See ya in the morning." I responded in routine, "Love you. Be careful. Watch for deer."
Little did I know those would be our last words. The last time he'd ever pick on me. The last time I'd ever tell him I loved him... and I was worried about the stupid deer.
He usually left around 9:00. So about this time I would have been picking up the house, doing the dishes, and heading to bed. I fell asleep quickly, but at 3:00a.m. my phone rang. I looked at it and thought, 'that must be a butt-dial' and rolled back over. It rang again. I answered and a dear friend said, "Caitlin, I'm in the garage. I need you to let me in." I ran to the door, swung it open, and immediately asked what happened?. My friend responded simply and calmly, "There's been an accident at the mines. You need to get dressed." Without another word, I went toward the bedroom and dropped to my knees. With my elbows on the bed, I prayed.
"Dear God, Please protect my family. If it is your will, Lord, please send my husband home safe."
It wasn't his will.
My husband was already dead.
On the way to the hospital, my friend explained that her husband had called her and asked her to come pick me up. Steven had been in an accident and likely had a few broken bones. We were to meet them in the Emergency Room. In addition to working together, her husband and Steven were also good friends. They grew up together and being 8 months pregnant, he didn't want me driving alone in the middle of the night.
He was protecting me from what was about to become a harsh and painful reality.
I called the hospital on the way and the ER doctor insisted that he couldn't speak to me over the phone due to current HIPPA laws. At this point I knew that it was far worse than I had been told.
We arrived at the hospital and the doctor took me into a small, quiet room. He motioned toward a chair. I sat. I knew. I wanted to vomit.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. O'Dell. Your husband didn't make it."
My worst nightmare. Every Coal Miner's wife's worst nightmare. He was lieing. He had to be lieing. It wasn't Steven. They got it mixed up. How did a couple broken bones turn into 'he didn't make it'?

I am beyond thankful that my last moments with Steven were happy ones. If I can give one piece of advice to my followers, it would be to never leave the house without saying 'I love you'... even if you follow up with a dirty word. :) Be the bigger person. You never know when your loved ones will leave and never return.

Steven's having a baby and I'm pretty sure it's mine!

Hard to believe my baby boy is a month old! Where does the time go? Seems like just yesterday I was jumping around on the bed trying to wake Steven up to tell him we were pregnant. He was so excited! Of course, Steven had some strange opinions about pregnancy. For example: A baby isn't a baby until it's born. He would insist that our growing fetus couldn't hear me and that I was crazy for reading to my belly at night. Trying to get Steven to feel the baby kick was challenging at first. He thought it was weird and instead, would watch my stomach bounce around from a distance. He refused to find out the sex, even though I was dying to know and when I made the appointment for a 4-D ultrasound, he wanted nothing to do with it, claiming, "You shouldn't be able to know what babies look like until they are born. It's not natural." As time went on he warmed up... slightly. The morning before Steven passed away, he came in the door from work. I was still in bed and pretending to be asleep (because if Steven knew I was awake, he would have wanted me to fix him something to eat). He quietly came through the bedroom and on his way to shower, he stopped. He pulled back the blanket and kissed my belly. I didn't move. He kissed my forehead and said, "Good morning, honey." That's the thing about Steven. He was the sweetest when it wasn't expected... when no one was looking. I'll miss those small moments. Steven would have been an incredible father. He constantly talked about all of the things he wanted to do with his kids and there is nothing in the world that he wanted more than a son. I believe Steven and Andrew met. Not on earth, but in some realm between life and death. Some days I even wonder if they still see each other. I don't believe that Steven is our Guardian Angel, but I do believe that Heaven is bigger than any of us can understand. And I do believe we will all reunite one day.

 

A man's desire for a son is usually nothing but the wish to duplicate himself in order that such a remarkable pattern may not be lost to the world.
~ Helen Rowland

Snow Daze

Hello All! I'm back at it after taking a few days off. I'm struggling to find balance in my life. Part of the problem is a lack of schedule, but with a newborn, trying to create a schedule is a losing battle. None-the-less, I am trying to balance out time spent between my family, Steven's family, and our friends... as well as the time I spend alone with my precious angel. Some days I feel completely lost, like I can't figure out what I am suppose to be doing. I joked with my girlfriends yesterday, that I think I am losing my mind. I feel like it's time for me to establish a plan for the future, but where do I go from here? I was working as a Realtor prior to the accident and loved it, but now it seems like that is a part of my "old life" and I can't go back. I don't want to go back. Remembering my old schedule is too difficult.
It's snowing this evening and that brings back so many memories. I keep thinking about the blizzard we had in October. Steven had spent every bit of 4 hours trying to dig us out of the driveway, before finally giving up and calling out of work. We were literally snowed in. We spent several days with no power, no internet, dead cell phones, and minimal food, but somehow we were content. Steven loved monopoly - mainly because no one could beat him. With nothing better to do, we must have played 10 times and I lost every single time, but sitting by the fireplace and goofing off with him will forever remain one of my most recent and happiest memories. So often we would lay on the couch and watch a movie together or go out to dinner, but rarely did we ever sit in silence and talk about the future. Those are the moments worth treasuring.

One story that everyone seems to love, is the story of Frosty:
I was getting ready for work one morning - 8 months pregnant and as big as a house. Steven had just gotten home from work and was taking a shower. I was closing on two different houses that day and needed to look nice, but trying to find clothes that fit was becoming a struggle. I put on a pair of dress pants and a WHITE sweater. When Steven got out of the shower, I spun around and asked him how I looked. His response: "You are one ball away from looking like Frosty!"

I have to say that I got the last laugh... during the funeral, I placed his monopoly piece in his hand. It's my way of antagonizing him for eternity, because the last time we played, I WON! He was a real wise-ass, but I will forever be the monopoly champ!

"When it snows you have two choices; shovel or make snow angels."    - Author Unknown

Choices

"I DO" on October 15, 2011

I can't help but think about how much my life has changed in the last year and a half. I married the love of my life, lost him, and gave birth to another. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent or a sibling and I hope I don't have to endure that kind of loss for many years, but I imagine that losing a spouse is one of the hardest experiences a person could ever suffer through. Marriage is a choice we make... a conscious decision to spend your life with another human being - you aren't born into their family, you choose to be a part of it.
What many of you don't know is that Steven and I had broken up for 7 months just prior to getting married, but I made a choice to go back to him. To spend my life with him. To start a family with him. We bought a house, made it a home, and said our vows. When I recited the words, "'til death us do part" I never could have imagined that it might only be 14 months until those vows were fulfilled. Obsolete.
But that was my choice. A choice that I would make a hundred times over if given the opportunity. A choice that has changed my life forever.

"I'd rather have 30 minutes of wonderful, than a lifetime of nothing special."  -Steel Magnolias

Clogged Drains and Firearms

I started thinking today about all of the things Steven taught me over our 6 year journey together and how I often had no interest in learning. Steven was a jack of all trades. There was nothing he couldn't do.. or to clarify, if he didn't know how to do something, he would find the "how-to" video on YouTube and teach himself.
Just before we got married, I had gone on a candle making extravaganza and to make a long story short, a little too much wax got poured down the sink. When Draino wouldn't work to unclog the mess, I asked Steven to get involved. I remember getting so irritated when he insisted that it was my mess and he was going to teach me how to clean it up. Forget it! Not happening! After a 10 minute argument about calling a plumber, I crawled under the sink. Such an easy task! Who knew? All I really wanted was for the man in my life to unclog the drain, but now I am beyond thankful that he taught me how to do it - he probably saved me a ton of money over the course of a lifetime.
More than anything, I am grateful that he taught me how to shoot a gun. And not just how to shoot, but how to reload and clean firearms. I really had no interest in target practice until he came into my life, but he made it look like so much fun! Now with Steven being gone, I find comfort in knowing that if Andrew or I are ever being threatened, not only do I know how to shoot a gun, but I'm a damned good shot!
I've always joked that I don't need a man. Turns out I was wrong. I do need a man... one man... and his name is Andrew. <3

"You know, I feel like young girls are told they have to be this kind of princess and be all delicate and fragile, and it's bullshit! I identify much more with the idea of being a warrior... and being a fighter. I think women are scared of feeling powerful and strong and brave, and I think that's something they've got to embrace." -Emma Watson

Locked in the Bathroom

Today was the first day since Steven's accident that I did absolutely nothing. Andrew was acting strange last night - needy, like he just needed "Mommy-time" - so, I decided to skip church and Sunday dinner with the in-laws and just cuddle with him! Easier said than done. I was quickly reminded of why I have kept myself so busy and constantly on the run. Memories. When I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off, there is no time to remember. I like it better that way. It hurts less. I started thinking about the many reasons that I loved Steven... and his sense of humor takes the cake! He could make even the toughest crowd double over in laughter. Sometimes a tad on the offensive side, but always hilarious!
Pizza Hut always seemed to be the restaurant of choice when he wanted to get all of his friends together and there was always one constant when dining there - prank phone calls. This juvenile tradition began many years before I came into the mix and would likely have continued well into his old age, if time would have allowed. He'd always call Pizza Hut (from his cell while sitting at one of their tables) and when the unfortunate employee answered, he'd tell them some rendition of "I'm locked in the men's room, can you send someone to get me out?" The funny part came when the employee hung up the phone. We'd watch as he or she looked around, questioned other employees, and eventually went to the bathroom to find no one there. Even after 10 years of this same call being made monthly, they still fell for it... every single time. Most recently, Steven had taken this prank to a whole new level. He had come home after being out with his friend. I had stayed home, as I was 8 months pregnant and exhausted. After asking about his night, his response was short and sweet: "My arm got stuck in the toilet at Pizza Hut...."

"The secret to humor is surprse."    -Aristotle

Never Surrender

I'd like to say that I am humbled by the support that my son and I have been given, but humbled is not a strong enough word. Even today, more than a month after the accident, we are still receiving cards and gifts in the mail. Deposits are still being made into his savings account (which will be transferred to a trust fund as soon as his social security number is established) and I cannot even begin to keep up with my facebook page.

The one thing I keep hearing over and over is that my supporters admire my strength and find me to be an inspiration. I have always considered myself to be a strong and independent woman, however I'm not sure where my recent vitality comes from. Perhaps, having a child whose livelihood depends on me, plays a role. Perhaps, I learned from my father that sometimes, in the midst of agony, a good joke can change the spirit of an entire room. Or maybe, just maybe, the Lord gives us exactly what we need. What if in the bigger scheme of things, I am being used to make a difference in this cruel world? What if my entire purpose is to bring another person to Christ or to improve an unsafe work environment? The way I see it is I can mope around, focusing on the things I don't have and the things Andrew will never experience with his father.... Or I can get up and get on with the day. What it comes down to is my own happiness or lack there of, because at the end of the day Steven will still be gone and there is nothing that anyone can do to change that.

"Strength does not come from winning. Your struggles develop your strengths. When you go through hardships and decide not to surrender, that is strength."    -Arnold Schwarzenegger

Resolution: Recovery

It's been just over a month since my husband passed away and I'm told the loss will get easier to deal with, but so far that isn't the case. I thank God for allowing Steven to be a part of my life long enough to give me a son. Our precious baby boy gives me a reason to get out of bed in the morning. He is an Angel and he is my saving grace.

I have made a conscious decision to heal. In fact, doing so is my New Year's resolution. Steven O'Dell was one of the funniest people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and our relationship was somewhat less than ordinary. I intend to tell his many stories through this blog, in addition to documenting my recovery, our son's growth, and the fight to preventing another family from experiencing such a tragedy.

I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me.       Philippians 4:13