Hey Ya'll! For anyone still following this blog, I've started a new one.
Its completely different.
I have moved and call myself a farmHer now! :D So the new blog will follow more of a homesteader's journey.
In tonight's entry, Andrew fixes dinner :D.
Thank you all for supporting me always!
Heavenshiddenhomestead.com/blog
New Blog Here
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Ashes To Ashes
Why do the living insist on putting themselves through the self inflicted agony that funerals induce? I understand that we want to honor the deceased and need closure to their lives, but I wish we could find a less exhausting way to do that. When my work on earth is finished and the Almighty calls me home, I hope my family cremates my body and spreads my ashes at the ocean... at least I'll know they took a vacation that year. OK - bad joke.
Today, I attended the funeral of a woman that I barely knew. She was someone I considered family, but in 8 years she never even knew my name. My late husband spoke of his great-grandmother so highly that I longed to know her, but Alzheimer's took her away from her family (mentally) a couple years before I had the privilege of meeting her. This woman was a staple in my husband's childhood. She helped to raise him and was partially to thank for his Christianity. I've heard a million stories about this woman and spoken to her a hundred times, but I never really knew her. Still, I went to her funeral because of the many ways she affected my life.
As I entered the funeral home, I could see myself in a different life. I could feel every emotion that consumed me the day we buried Steven. Why did I insist on going into the same room where I once looked over my husband's dead body? Why did I sit down and glance across the room at a chair I once sat in? A chair that I could see myself sitting in almost two and a half years ago. I could see myself nine months pregnant, wearing a black skirt, and a widow's veil to cover the sleepless, swollen eyes of a terrified woman. I could see myself with my left hand raised high and my eyes closed, listening to a song willing my husband to "go rest high on that mountain" because "his work on earth was done". To everyone around me it probably looked like I was praying. But I wasn't praying. To pray, I would have had to think and at that moment the only thing I could think about was the lump in my throat and how I had to focus on taking breaths because that lump was so big that it was preventing me from inhaling. I wasn't praying. I wasn't even thinking. But I had my hand raised high; silently and unknowingly begging God to pick me up... to lift me up. All these emotions and memories on my mind as I listened to a eulogy about Steven's great grandmother and how she felt the exact same emotions when her husband passed away. She didn't think she could keep living. I knew that feeling too well.
In the last couple of years, I have found peace. I have learned to praise God for the good and to turn my back on the bad. I have learned to trust God in all ways. But I suppose, there will always be moments of sadness and times of trial...
"For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord." -- Romans 6:23
Today, I attended the funeral of a woman that I barely knew. She was someone I considered family, but in 8 years she never even knew my name. My late husband spoke of his great-grandmother so highly that I longed to know her, but Alzheimer's took her away from her family (mentally) a couple years before I had the privilege of meeting her. This woman was a staple in my husband's childhood. She helped to raise him and was partially to thank for his Christianity. I've heard a million stories about this woman and spoken to her a hundred times, but I never really knew her. Still, I went to her funeral because of the many ways she affected my life.
As I entered the funeral home, I could see myself in a different life. I could feel every emotion that consumed me the day we buried Steven. Why did I insist on going into the same room where I once looked over my husband's dead body? Why did I sit down and glance across the room at a chair I once sat in? A chair that I could see myself sitting in almost two and a half years ago. I could see myself nine months pregnant, wearing a black skirt, and a widow's veil to cover the sleepless, swollen eyes of a terrified woman. I could see myself with my left hand raised high and my eyes closed, listening to a song willing my husband to "go rest high on that mountain" because "his work on earth was done". To everyone around me it probably looked like I was praying. But I wasn't praying. To pray, I would have had to think and at that moment the only thing I could think about was the lump in my throat and how I had to focus on taking breaths because that lump was so big that it was preventing me from inhaling. I wasn't praying. I wasn't even thinking. But I had my hand raised high; silently and unknowingly begging God to pick me up... to lift me up. All these emotions and memories on my mind as I listened to a eulogy about Steven's great grandmother and how she felt the exact same emotions when her husband passed away. She didn't think she could keep living. I knew that feeling too well.
In the last couple of years, I have found peace. I have learned to praise God for the good and to turn my back on the bad. I have learned to trust God in all ways. But I suppose, there will always be moments of sadness and times of trial...
"For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord." -- Romans 6:23
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Letters to Heaven
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| October 15, 2011 |
Dear Steven,
I can't love you any more. Three years ago, today, we vowed to spend the rest of our lives together. You promised me, I promised you, and together we promised God to love each other until death do us part. On that cool October day, I knew that I would love you forever. When I looked into your eyes, I saw all of my dreams coming true. When you held my hand, I knew that you were the man I wanted to spend my whole life loving. On that day, I loved you more than I thought I could ever love, but I also knew that our love for each other would grow stronger as our lives progressed. On that day, I thought I couldn't love you more if I tried. And then a few months later we found out that I was pregnant and my love for you doubled in an instant. I expected it would always be that way. I expected that on the day of our baby's birth, I would love you more than on the day we got married. I expected that there would come a time in our marriage when we would have to fight for each other and when we overcame our marital challenges, I would love you more for working through them with me. I always expected that I would love you more every morning than I did the night before. But I was robbed of that opportunity. I will never be able to love you more than I did on the day that you died. On the day you met Jesus, I loved you more than I had ever loved before. But that was the end of the road for our love story. Nothing could ever make me love you more than I did on that day. And that leaves an ache in my heart that will never go away. But don't worry about me, my love, because God has this all figured out. In the most heartbreakingly beautiful way, I picked up loving Andrew when our love story ended. Today, I love him more than I ever knew my heart could love and tomorrow I will love him a little more.
Steven, I want you to know how much I miss you. I miss everything about you and I miss everything about us. I also want you to know that you will always be my hero. We fulfilled our commitments. Three years ago, we vowed to love each other until death do us part. You kept your promise and I kept mine. So, on the third Anniversary of our wedding day, I hope you understand that I can't love you any more...
But damnit, I can't love you any less either.
Forever your loving wife,
Caitlin
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| October 15, 2014 |
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Talking to Heaven
This week stamps a year and a half since Steven passed away. I cannot begin to count the ways that my life has changed; every dream has changed direction, every belief has been magnified. I have survived the unimaginable and I have overcome my biggest fears. With God's amazing grace, I continue to live. Because of my circumstances, I am able to live more fully than most people. I understand better than most, how fragile life is and what is truly important.
For those who have followed my story, you know that I have lost friendships along the way. People that I thought would always support me have betrayed me. Tonight, I was struggling with being let down by another one of my husband's close friends. As I was driving home, I found myself listening to Brantley Gilbert - My Faith In You (I encourage you to listen https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Osv6pR6-5ys). Before I knew it, I was pulled over on the side of the road with my hands raised high, praising God and crying. I felt the desire to get out of the car - so I got out. I climbed a fence and ended up kneeling in a hayfield. I guess sometimes I get overwhelmed with emotion. The kind of overwhelmed that cannot be held in. I was talking and yelling and crying out to Heaven. Talking to my husband. I have always felt closest to him when the sky is big above me. I told him that I couldn't keep spinning my wheels, trying to keep everyone happy. I'm tired of worrying about who doesn't approve of my choices and I'm tired of justifying my every move. I'm tired of running Andrew here and there because everyone wants to spend time with HIS SON. My spirit is breaking.
It's something that is hard to explain, but there have been times in my life when I believe I could hear God talking to me. I believe I could hear Steven talking to me. Put me in a straight jacket if you want - but I've learned to listen when most people are busy trying to control their own lives instead of accepting God's will for them. Tonight was one of those times. I felt an unexplainable peace and I could hear Steven's voice. And in the stern way that he use to convince me, he said, "Andrew is not my son, he is our son. You're his mother and you know what needs to happen." And then, his voiced changed. It changed to a sadder side of Steven that few people knew existed. And I could hear him tell me I knew who was loyal to him while he was alive. I knew who always had his back and who disappointed him over and over again. I could hear him tell me, "you know who matters."
My destination has never been more clear. Steven told me everything that I needed to hear. It's time for me to stop trying to please everyone else and start pleasing me. I have a beautiful future laid out in front of me. I've fallen in love again; and with a man that I truly believe Steven would have been good friends with, had they ever had a chance to meet. Andrew has started blowing kisses to Daddy in Heaven. I'm making a difference in Coal Mine Safety. My life is good. And I'm prepared to burn the bridges that are no longer safe to walk across.
"'Cause I've been beaten. I've been broken. I've been dangerously bruised, And Lord I never would have made it, if I'd of lost my faith in you!" -Brantley Gilbert, lyrics
For those who have followed my story, you know that I have lost friendships along the way. People that I thought would always support me have betrayed me. Tonight, I was struggling with being let down by another one of my husband's close friends. As I was driving home, I found myself listening to Brantley Gilbert - My Faith In You (I encourage you to listen https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Osv6pR6-5ys). Before I knew it, I was pulled over on the side of the road with my hands raised high, praising God and crying. I felt the desire to get out of the car - so I got out. I climbed a fence and ended up kneeling in a hayfield. I guess sometimes I get overwhelmed with emotion. The kind of overwhelmed that cannot be held in. I was talking and yelling and crying out to Heaven. Talking to my husband. I have always felt closest to him when the sky is big above me. I told him that I couldn't keep spinning my wheels, trying to keep everyone happy. I'm tired of worrying about who doesn't approve of my choices and I'm tired of justifying my every move. I'm tired of running Andrew here and there because everyone wants to spend time with HIS SON. My spirit is breaking.
It's something that is hard to explain, but there have been times in my life when I believe I could hear God talking to me. I believe I could hear Steven talking to me. Put me in a straight jacket if you want - but I've learned to listen when most people are busy trying to control their own lives instead of accepting God's will for them. Tonight was one of those times. I felt an unexplainable peace and I could hear Steven's voice. And in the stern way that he use to convince me, he said, "Andrew is not my son, he is our son. You're his mother and you know what needs to happen." And then, his voiced changed. It changed to a sadder side of Steven that few people knew existed. And I could hear him tell me I knew who was loyal to him while he was alive. I knew who always had his back and who disappointed him over and over again. I could hear him tell me, "you know who matters."
My destination has never been more clear. Steven told me everything that I needed to hear. It's time for me to stop trying to please everyone else and start pleasing me. I have a beautiful future laid out in front of me. I've fallen in love again; and with a man that I truly believe Steven would have been good friends with, had they ever had a chance to meet. Andrew has started blowing kisses to Daddy in Heaven. I'm making a difference in Coal Mine Safety. My life is good. And I'm prepared to burn the bridges that are no longer safe to walk across.
"'Cause I've been beaten. I've been broken. I've been dangerously bruised, And Lord I never would have made it, if I'd of lost my faith in you!" -Brantley Gilbert, lyrics
Sunday, December 1, 2013
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
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
Monday, November 18, 2013
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
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
Monday, September 30, 2013
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
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
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
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
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
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
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...
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
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| 2011 |
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
Thursday, May 30, 2013
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
"She is clothed with strength and dignity; and she laughs without fear of the future." - Proverbs 31:25
Friday, May 10, 2013
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
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
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
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
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
Sunday, April 28, 2013
We Remember!
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| Happy Birthday, Daddy! |
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.
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| Steven's amazing friends! And even more amazing wife... |
Money well spent. Time well wasted. Memories worth making!
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
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
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
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
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".
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
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Thursday, March 21, 2013
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
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
Friday, March 15, 2013
"Thanks for the Privilege!"
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
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Wake Up Older
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
Monday, March 11, 2013
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 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
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
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
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
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