Hard Week

To say the least, this week was hard. Still is hard, and it is taking a lot from me to even write this. I feel so overwhelmed emotionally that I can't even put into writing what I feel. I just want to lay next to you and have your warmth absorb all my pain and sadness away.I feel plagued by so many challenges at one time and haunted by memories of you, both good and bad. Songs, all song, make me sad, and writing this tonight is just too hard. I can't. It's my birthday, and I miss you. I have nothing but tears to share today.

Too Many Decisions

Well, my attorney finally called me about the trust that we set up and your two life insurance policies.  Admittedly, I was dissappointed that we did some things the way we did because it leaves me in a difficult predicament for meeting my needs while meeting the children's needs. The best news, is that the children's needs will be met and there will be money for college, missions and their day to day expenses that exist until Lee Lee graduates college or is 24 years old. The bad news is that at that time, any remaining money is distributed amongst all four kids. The only reason that is bad news is because I really want to stay at home with the kids for the rest of their minority, but if I do that in full, I won't be contributing to investments for myself, so I am afraid I might be up a creek financially in 20-23 years when income for the our family dies and I am 57-60 years old. It won't be easy to just re-enter the work force then, so this makes me nervous.

I am thinking about giving up on law and psychology and getting into teaching. It is not a significant income, but it would give me 20 years of acquiring PERS and would provide health insurance for the kids and I. It would allow me to do almost just put my entire income away for when the kids are all grown-up. I am just not sure what route I should take to do this. Should I just go back to school for elementary education. Stop working all together while I do this - income from the trust would probably pay this, and I'd still qualify for student loans, etc.

It all very confusing and I have a lot of decisions to make. It is late, and I suppose I should go to bed. THANK YOU, for having planned financially with me 8 years ago for such a horrible tragedy such as this. It has truly lightened my burdens. I love you!

Heartbroken Children

Tonight turned out to be a difficult night. Ash is really struggling. Finally realized that his "neck" pain is tension in his neck which causes a sort of headache for him. He also admitted to frequently having stomach aches. The hardest part to hear was that sometimes he gets scared, and when he days, he thinks he hears voices. Voices he thinks he recognizes from people who have died before. We talked about how those voices might be people who are trying to comfort him. That perhaps he should just say out loud, "please stop, you are scaring me." He said later than when he was alone he thought he heard your voice and it really upset him. If it is you, please stop, you are frightening him and I don't find it funny. Like your teasing of the children was annoying to me when you were alive, it is even more annoying now. Please just stop, let him feel you near, your arms and strength around him, and your love and protection. Those are the things Ash needs from you now, not your teasing.

When I took Ash to scouts tonight, I took Lee Lee with me. We went to CVS to fill my prescriptions. They messed up at the pharmacy and forgot to fill one of them, so I had to wait longer than anticipated. Gav admitted to me later, after scouts, and in private that he got really scared earlier tonight but he didn't want to say what. I knew instantly what it was, because I thought it when I was in the store. Stupid me, I left my cell phone at home and couldn't call the kids to tell them that I would be longer than expected. I feared that he and Mo would be afraid that, like you, I was in an accident right by the house. That I too had died. I told him that I thought I knew what it was, because I had the same thought and was mad at myself for forgetting my phone. When I told him what I thought he nodded, and then began to sob. When I told him it was okay to have those fears, that those feelings are normal, he started to stop crying. Not because he felt better, but because he seemed to feel ashamed of crying. I tried to explain how you felt about crying. How sometimes you hated it, but that when you talked about the kids or me, you were often brought to tears. That or your testimony about the gospel and the Savior. Ultimately, you were glad that you were able to feel moved to emotion. That is a gift, use it.

We drove by some Power Co. trucks on our way home. Just before the site of your accident. Ash panicked, "What happened!" I could hear the anxiety in his voice. "Oh love, it is just the power company, not an accident. They are just fixing something with the power."

Ash told me that he made three wishes with the school counselor today. 1. That you hadn't died. 2. That he could see you one last time. 3. That if you were alive, he could go fishing with you. That boy misses you. A lot. They all do, and each is mourning you in their own unique individual ways.

Sorting Through Your Clothes

The boys have been repeatedly asking me what things of yours they can have. This is hard to decide since they are still so young and because I struggle with letting go of your things. Are you really never going to wear or use them again?

Your mom had a great idea to make a quilt for each child out of your clothes. I guess it is a good thing, finally, that you had like 60-80 shirts. We didn't even keep them all for the quilts, but a lot of your saying shirts we did. Then the kids all kept some of your shirts to wear as "comfort" clothes. Pajamas, or relaxing, or whatever makes them happy.

I then put everything else in boxes. It just hurts too much to see them everyday in your closet. Truth is, it isn't really your closet anymore.

I sent some of the shirts I didn't know you'd kept that had sweat stains in the collar to the D.I. And some other things that I just didn't see the need to keep. To be honest, I was surprised that you hadn't parted with them already.

Then came one of the harder parts. . . my lingerie.  Honestly, I just don't see the point in keeping any of it. When will I ever wear it again? It saddened me to let it go, because it was so much a part of our intimate life. They were all more about you, than about me. About how you wanted me to feel sexy, beautiful, attractive, desirable. You wanted me to feel the way you felt about me. And it worked. So I just don't see why I would keep them since you aren't here to be intimate with me. Ironically, there were 3 that I just couldn't part with yet. The first lingerie you ever bought me, the pink one that I bought and loved so much, and the one that we bought just a few months ago. I remember trying it on in the dressing room with you. I don't know why I kept them, I will never wear them again. But some pieces of you, I just don't know how to let go.

Have you heard me talk to you today? Admittedly, I don't really even feel crazy for it. It feels natural and normal. It would seem crazy I guess if I heard you answer. But not crazy to think that you can hear me.

I love you. Hope all is well in Paradise.

Another Day Without You

Well, the good news is that Lee Lee is eating more again. I was getting worried about her because she hadn't been eating much or very well. She even started giving me kisses again last night and today. She had been stingy since your death, but I think she is adjusting in her own way.

The older three were not very happy with me last night after I told them that the goal was to go to school all this week AND to sleep in our own rooms this week. I know in so many ways you are laughing at me for having let so many of them sleep in my bed after your death, but we all needed it, especially me. At least I can admit that even my own actions only support my theory of bed sharing with children.

Ash struggled to go to sleep and tried to have a major attitude with me. It "feels" like no one in his life loves him. He admitted that he knew there were lots of people that do love him, but it still "feels" that way. He couldn't explain why.

And like normal, I was the worst mom in the world this morning when I told the boys they had to shower. Gav took so long that I had to just tell Ash he'd have to get it done tonight. I don't know how to be this supermom that I have to be.

Lee Lee wanders the house saying "da, dad, dad, da." She is such a joy and relief right now. I suppose I have you to thank for her being such a lovely child, so happy, and void of regular fit throwing. You are the one whose been home with her the most up until now.  I am so glad the two of you got that, but sad that she will soon forget it.

Sending all my love to you.

There are no words

For the first time since your death, our house is quite. The boys are with your sister, and Mo is with friends. Lee Lee is fast asleep. I suppose I should be also, but I wanted to start this blog in private.

I am not sure how to pick up our life and continue with it. A part of me feels like I am suppose to be starting over, but I just don't know how. I look for you across from me on the couch, and I feel across the bed in search of your warmth. But you aren't there.

A part of me feels like I should be angry. Angry at you, angry at God, or just angry at someone. But the truth is, I don't know how to be. I have loved you for twelve years. Years that once felt like they were going by quickly, and now just feel short and incomplete. Our life was generally not easy. And you know what I mean. It wasn't the everyday problems that all couples face; we had unique and troubling challenges. I know there were many who never fully understood our relationship; but we did. We shared a love that lots of couples never have. We shared each other's trial and tribulations. I felt your pain in the week before you died. I knew how scared you were to face your recent diagnosis of bipolar. I saw your fear and the agony you felt at the thought that this was a lifelong illness and that you were heartbroken at the pain it had already brought to the kids and I. Your fear of never being able to end it was not lost upon me. And while I was nervous and apprehensive, not knowing how our life would play out, I wasn't ready to give up. I have always believed in you, and have always known the depth of your love for me. I know that your love continues, as done mine. I also know, that in death, you found what you struggled so hard to find in life.  You found peace. I can feel the quiet of your mind and the peacefulness of your soul. I know that the troubling thoughts, racing mind, and turmoil you felt in this life are over. And while I may be crying as I write this, there is still a part of me that rejoices in what you have found. A small part of me that finds peace in knowing that many of your life's goals were met on that fateful night when your life on this earth with me ended. But, admittedly, right now I am overwhelmingly saddened by my loss and the loss of our children. Even knowing that our life was never going to be picture perfect, it was a life that I chose to have over and over again. It was a life that I wanted with you.

Now, I don't really know what life is. My focus is our kids and making sure that they grow to make you proud. It is a heavy burden to raise them by myself. But for you, I will do my best. Please remember to look in on us every now and again. We need you much more than you need us now. I love you.