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