Three Years

Three years ago, this picture was taken.
I was giddy.  Roger was sick.
Three years ago, we moved into this house.
I finally had the stability I needed.

I had dreams of Christmases to come with family and friends.
Of Thanksgivings with the Jimenezes.
Of July 4th parties with all our friends.
Of Halloween parties.
Maybe some neat flowers and gardening.

I wanted to make "our" place.
I wanted to paint the rooms.
Decorate in "our" style.
We had the perfect niche for wedding photos.
Roger dreamt of having a personal gym at home.
Maybe one day of teaching some small groups again.
We had our offices.
We had tons of room to grow together.

And Roger's mom had dreams too.
She wanted to hear the pitter patter of feet as she stated during her Thanksgiving grace prayer.
The one and only Thanksgiving we had together here.

And as I have stated, I reflect a lot.
I reflect on then and now.
It is not a new habit for me.
Quite an old one actually but it is a bit more melancholy now.

I started thinking of how different my life is now.
I live in the same house.
A small feat for me as I have not lived in the same house for more than 2.5 years since I was in middle school.
A girl who in the span of ten years moved about twelve times or more.

And although my address is stable.
This is not the life I thought I would have standing on the lawn of our new home that day, smiling from ear to ear.
I have a roommate again.
A situation I did not foresee ever happening again.
I am not with Roger.
I am with Mr. X.
I am not working.
I am in school full time.
I am not a software analyst consultant.
I am going to be a teacher.

Yes, I have our place.
But now "our" is a different pair of people.
It is scary to me to see how different my life has become.

What will the next three years hold?
What will the next year hold?

Lifetime Friends

In the last almost two years, I have lost a lot of friends.
It is something a lot of widows will tell you about.
Some old friends. Some more recent friends.
Some that I knew for about eight years before.
Some that I met right before the accident.
Some that I met after the accident.
For one reason or another, we are no longer friends.
Sometimes there has been a "conversation".
Other times they just drift.

I was starting to get self conscious about it.
I was starting to wonder if I was the common denominator.
I was starting to think something was wrong with me.
I was starting to wonder if eventually I would be standing at a street corner completely alone.
I was starting to get depressed.

But after my "little" announcement a couple of days ago.
And in just small things over the last week, I remembered something.
I still have a load of friends who love me and care about me.
And who have loved me for a long time and short amounts of time.
And who are truly happy for me.

One friend, Stacy, I have known for almost ten years.
We met when his friend and I were briefly dating.
We have all remained friends.
I remember seeing him at the hospital.
I remember seeing him at my house after the funeral. He is one of the few people I remember unfortunately.
And in the last almost two years he has been here for me like an older brother.
He called me the other night to invite me over.
And in the conversation he told me how he was happy for me.

I had another friend who asked if he needed to "talk" to Mr. X.
A friend I inherited from Roger.
A friend I am glad I did not lose when Roger died.
But he is happy for me as well.

I should not expect every friend to stay around forever.
Obviously people die.
And I guess I am realizing now that sometimes friendships die too.
No fault of anyone I guess.
It is just life.

Now, it is not that I live in the same backyard as I grew up in.
So I should have known and realized this sort of thing happened in life.
I am almost thirty years old for Pete's sake.  I moved away from my hometown eleven years ago.
But I think there has been a definite weeding out of friends in the last two years.

I am happy with those that have stuck around.
For those that attached in the last two years as well.

Changes

A change is about to occur here in my house.
Next month, Mr. X is going to be moving in with me.
We have been dating for almost a year and I feel like it is time.
We feel like it is time.
Time to step up our relationship to the next level.
On May Day, it will become our home.

I was nervous about announcing this.
I am sure some people will be shocked that in less than two years since Roger's death I am ready to have someone else move in.
However, I felt like I was stalling my decision for the sake of what other's think.
For other's feelings.
For society's rules.
For what others deem as normal and good.

But that was not fair to Mr. X.
It was not fair to me.

It is a scary change.
Commitment-phobia is slightly engaged.
Death-phobia is highly engaged.
But it is also exciting.

However, I hate the term "moving on".
No, I am not moving on.
I am moving forward.  Life moves forward.
"Moving on" sounds like I am forgetting Roger.
I still think of him.
Every. Single. Day.
I still have tears that gently roll off my cheeks every once in a while.

I still love Roger.
And I love Mr. X.
Amazingly, I can do both.

Unfair

I know every person who has ever lost anyone says: "This is unfair" or "Life is unfair" or some similar sentiment.
And this post is not directly related to my grief but it reinforces that feeling.
I feel like I am angrier because of grief.
Because life has been unfair to me.

Back in 2005, when I decided I had to quit my traveling consultant job, I tried to find a new job in New York City where I was living at the time.
I looked at Monster, Career Builder, and some other sources.
Every job I found that would work for me wanted a bachelors plus experience.
I had the experience.
But not the bachelors.
"Oh, you do not have a bachelors you cannot even apply."

It made me feel like I was subpar.
Like something was wrong with me.
Like I was not smart enough.
Like I was not good enough.
Like my experience, my core values, my work ethic, my entire being was not good enough.
I knew that given the chance I could have done any of those jobs amazingly.
But they would not give me the chance.

In November 2008, after Roger died and I decided I would return to school full time, I enrolled at University of Central Florida.
I thought, "I will finally have my bachelors.  I will finally be with the other 'good' people of the world."
And I erroneously thought, "People who are in college have similar core values and work ethic as me."

Unfairness strikes again.
People in college are not good people.
At least the sixty percent of them I come in contact with.
They cheat on exams.
They cheat for money.
They cheat for bonus points.
They cheat for their friends.
They cheat and cheat and cheat believing as long as it is helping themselves or a good friend it is okay.

People in college are lazy.
I have been involved with so many group projects with four people where two of us did all the work.
Despite complaints to the professor, they get away with it.
They get a good grade too.
And sometimes a similar grade as me.

So being a good person in life or in college does not pay off.
They will get their piece of paper.
They will have a bachelors.
They will be deemed "good" by potential employers.

Life is unfair.
The good guy does not always win.
The hare wins.
The hare wins despite what they tell you.

A New Birthday Cake

This is somewhat of a repeat emotion but...

Yesterday was Mr. X's birthday.
I was super excited to celebrate with him.
I wanted to make the day special for him.

I bought him a couple of gifts.
Made us dinner (except it did not taste very good).
And I made him a birthday cake.

And then this morning, I felt this fear.
I am really happy with Mr. X right now.
There are some big things happening for us (a whole separate series of blogs there).
But yet, I am frightened.
Beyond just normal relationship fears.
I guess it does not help that Roger died three weeks after his birthday.

As I become more and more happy with him, this fear that he will disappear keeps coming up.
And not just "disappear", but worse.
I am attached to him.
I am happy with him.

I was happy before.
I was attached before.
The true disappearing is that I feel scared Mr. X will die too.
And I know eventually he will.
Everyone dies.
But I am so afraid that as we get closer and closer, it will happen sooner than later.

The selfish part of me what to die first this time.
I do not want to be a widow again.
Please dear God do not let me be a widow again.

Thirty

This year I will be thirty.
I do not care about the actual age.
I do not feel old in most ways.
I do not feel like thirty is the end like some people may.

But there is this weird feeling down deep.
A bit of sadness.
Not for losing my youth.
For losing the life I thought I would had by now.
For losing the plans I had set into action.
For doing things the right way but yet still feeling like I failed.
So a bit of sadness mixed with a bit of personal failure.

I used to say I did not want to be thirty and divorced.
I accomplished that I suppose.
I guess I should have said I did not want to be thirty, divorced and/or widowed.
I would have been fine to have been single till thirty.
Not this.
Not this at all.

I feel like I did not meet my own goals.
I am still in school.
I do not have a bachelors, only an associates.
I am in the middle of a major career change.
I am (mostly) single, at least in the IRS definition.
I have not been out of the country in so long.
(The islands of the Bahamas do not count when I live ninety miles away).
The website Roger was helping me with two years ago is still sitting on the old computer.
My photography is still very amateur.

The last few days I have been in a bit of a funk.
With a slight depression coming on.
I feel like I am being left behind in the life train.
Yesterday I was speaking to a good friend who is also a widow when she commanded me to be kind to myself.
She told me to look at all the things I have accomplished.
It is just so hard right now.
It is so hard to look beyond the big gaping hole.

In the Future

One day in the future, I hope to have a child.

Maybe even more than one.

If it does not happen, I will be fine.

But I do think about it quite often.

Last week, I was watching this new show on television.

It is called "Who Do You Think You Are?"

Celebrities go on a search to figure out their family history.

To me, it seemed like an infomercial for ancestry.com.

Not a very good show at all in my opinion.

But on last week's episode, Matthew Broderick talks about how he did not know much about his father's family.

How his father did not talk much about them.

And he went on a hunt to find out more.

And I wondered, what about my children?

I do want Roger's family to always be part of my life.

But will they want to be part of mine?

Especially as I re-marry.

And then have a potential child.

Will they want to know my child?

Be part of my child.

How strange will it be for my child to know I was married before?

Will I talk with them about it?

Will my friends mention it?

Sigh...

Crazy Dreams

Last weekend and early this week, I did not sleep well.

How do I know?

I kept talking in my sleep.

Sure sign of mine that I am not sleeping very well.

It is probably a little bit of stress.

It is the only thing I can really think of.

There were not any super big days going on right now except for normal 23rd and 28th.

So it must be stress.

It started last Thursday night.

Mr. X had to wake me up in the middle of the night because he said I was whimpering.

Very loudly.

Enough to wake him up.

I do not really remember what I was dreaming except all day Friday I kept replaying Roger die.

I even cried a bit on my drive to school.

Then Friday night.

Saturday night.

And Sunday night, Mr. X was awakened by my mumbling.

On Monday night, I remembered one of my dreams.

I am not sure if I mumbled or not since Mr. X returned back to his house, but the dream was very vivid.

To the point that I still remember it today, four days later.

In this dream, I was having my yearly Fourth of July party, also my very most favorite holiday.

I was really bummed because no one except for a few people were at my house and it was already an hour after the party was scheduled to begin.

So I went to my room to cry.

I opened the blinds and saw the most amazing sight.

Snow! Gently falling.

The most beautiful white snow covering my yard and the streets.

So this is why no one was at my house.

It was a miracle. Snow in Florida. In July.

I was so happy.

Snowflakes were gently crashing into my window.

And then... I saw a cardinal.

A bright red cardinal flying through the air.

It was a beautiful dream.

And for some reason very comforting.