Love and Admiration

Saturday night was rough.

Shaun was at drill for the weekend and out in the hills of Yakima cell reception is scarce.  The lonely days of single parenting catch up to me quickly. 

I had these pangs.  I miss Chris. 

I am not sure what started it.  Maybe an email I had been thinking about for over a week.  I knew what his response would be to it.  Truly I should have "listened" to him.  I didn't, but that's another issue.

I sat that night thinking about Jeremiah.

Last Monday I brought Owen to Maya's swim lesson which I don't often do since he wants to swim so badly, I feel like it's cruel.  Owen spotted his uncle sitting around the corner and off he went to see him.  I'm not sure what exactly causes the tears to well up when I see the two of them together...maybe it's the similarities the brothers have, maybe it's that this is the closest biological connection Owen has to his dad, maybe it's the pain I see in Jer's eyes.

Saturday night I thought about how much Chris loved and admired Jer.  He was his friend and his brother.  I've never known how to convey this but I have a feeling of urgency about it.   

The second year, almost half way through.  Some things are difficult to face...

I was looking through pictures with Maya and saw a picture I took of Chris' van the day his coworkers came to get it.  I can hardly remember it being in our driveway or the way it sounded when he back it in. 

Yet, every morning as I shower the scene replays in my mind as if it just happened.  It's the cruel aspect of a traumatic experience.  At times it overwhelms the happier moments to make itself known in very ugly ways.

Moving forward there is so much happiness and love yet the pain is excruciating.  There is so much to communicate, talk through, overthink ... and sometimes it just isn't as reality driven as you think.  But it's life as I know it.

Shaun and I talk frequently about the complications our life entails, there are so many aspects to wrap our heads around and three little people on three different paths because of two separate events that need the guidance and love of so many.

At the end of the day, I look into their faces and see the reality of it all.  They love and are being loved fiercely and truly love is what makes this ride worthwhile.  

New Families

As I am accustomed to, we have many deep conversations doing every day mundane activities.

The other day I was out pushing the kids on the swings when Maya began talking about my and Shaun's upcoming wedding after asking why grandma and papa don't spend the night anymore.  (They stayed for over a month after Chris died).  I went on to explain I needed a lot of help then because I was very sad and had two kids who needed lots of love.  She went on to comment on my "other husband" dying.  She then chattered on and I listened intently, always trying to monitor where her thoughts have been and where they are going so I can help her navigate the road only to be suddenly stopped in my tracks.

"And Chris is going to have a new family too."

Huh?

I simply said, "What, sweetie?" attempting to swallow back the tears in my voice.

"Chris is going to get married to and have a new family too."

"Chris, your daddy?"

"Yup!"

My heart skipped a beat, sweat beads appeared on my forehead and my voice caught in my throat.

"Maya, we are his family, even if he isn't here.  He isn't going to get married to anyone else in heaven or have any more kids.  You are the lucky ones.  He's still your daddy and you're still his daughter no matter where he is...even in heaven.  Daddy's life in heave isn't like our life here."

It was silent and I tried to catch a peak of her face as she swung back and forth in front of me. I'd like to say I saw relief, but I couldn't catch a look long enough. 

"Oh.  Will you push me super high?" 

April 9th

Today, seven years ago, I married Chris at the Hollywood Schoolhouse in Woodinville.

I watched him, flushed from nervousness as I prayed he wouldn't faint.  He hated being the center of attention.

Seven years ago began an amazing, crazy, unimaginable journey.  It was an adventure I thought would take me from wedding to wife then onto motherhood and into middle age.  I had a journey in mind.  My path was clearly laid before me.  Together we had enormous dreams and we set out to accomplish them.

Today it's difficult to put into words my feelings.  I listened to this song and I smiled... it reminds me of Chris' attitude about life.

We played this song after Chris' service.  I still love the idea that he is over the rainbow, thinking about what a wonderful life it was.  Chris was so light hearted; it's what first attracted me to him.  He loved so easily and had an enormous heart.  Ok, now I'm crying.  That wasn't the plan.  I think it perhaps was a little too brave to open that song to play in another window.

Today I stopped frequently to mentally pen what I might say about this day and what it meant to me.  I seem to have lost all eloquence.

Seven year ago it was the beginning of a wonderful journey.  Six years ago it was the beginning of parenthood...ok so not human parents but doggy parents.  Five year ago I was on the verge of having our first child and we were so nervous.  Four years ago we couldn't believe we had a one year old and tried to celebrate at a B&B on Orcas only for Chris to fall ill with a high fever for the weekend.  Three years ago I was pregnant with our son, completing our family.  Two years ago I was registering Maya for preschool and looking at Owen's first birthday coming up and we celebrated with a weekend in Seattle.  One year ago I couldn't believe my loss, devastation and I was even shocked at my ability to move forward, one step at a time.

The other night I was reminded of what a great laugh Chris had when Maya wanted to see our old videos.  I love both of these following videos.  They remind me of our happiness.  They remind me of how much he loved those kids and most of all they remind me that my life was real and not this blur of a memory, as if it passed way to quickly to really ingest the gravity of the little moments. 

Tonight, on the seventh anniversary of the day we married...I raise my glass to an amazing guy, one whom I was proud to share my life with and who lead me on so many of my greatest adventures in life thus far.  Rest peacefully.

Videos

Maya reminded me of the "Blanket Boy" video that Chris recorded about a month before his death.  She used to watch is quite often.

She wanted to watch it so me, Maya and Owen snuggled into the big computer chair and watched old videos for a half hour and even ended listening to Chris' voicemail message I recorded. 

"Can daddy come back some day?"

Tears...and the to Maya that death is permanent. 

Oh yeah....she says.  I love daddy.  {smile}