Halloween

In 2006, on Halloween, I proposed to Roger.
His favorite holiday. My second favorite holiday.
He was a wizard that year.
I was a photo booth.

Four years ago today.
It is so hard to believe.
And it sucks.

I ended up canceling my annual Halloween party.
A lot of people could not make it.
A lot of people never replied.
It is just a lot of work to do for a few people.

So sadly it almost feels like just another day.
The costume I planned for almost a year goes into the filing cabinet.
I did throw a quick one together to give out candy to the neighborhood kids.

Mr. X was really sweet and did get down all the Halloween stuff from the attic.
The porch is all decorated thanks to him.
Sadly, the other three huge storage containers are sitting in the living room almost filled with the indoor decor.

I will do the party next year.
Even if it is for me and a few friends.   

Roger & me 2006

Halloween 2007

The Greatest Fear

During my freshman year of college, the university had a big campaign against rape.

They told us how one out of four girls would be raped before Thanksgiving break.

And most likely by someone they knew.

I was scared.

It was my greatest fear.

It was easily a possibility.

I had mace on my key chain.

I did not walk the mile to my car at night alone.

When going out with guy friends, I made sure to keep my wits about me.

I used the buddy system with my roommate.

The fear carried through with me.

I check my car before I get in it.

When I am alone at night, I keep my eyes and ears alert.

I notice people around me.

If someone looks creepy, I try to describe what they look like in my head.

And thankfully, knock on wood, I have not been raped.

But no one told me nor did I really think it was plausible that I would become a widow.

That Roger and I would not make it to our first wedding anniversary because of death.

No warning speech by wedding officials.

No precautions to take.

No what to do if steps.  

Because it does not happen.

Widows are old.

Widows have adult children.

There are not many things that cause me fear.

Fear does not take over as an emotion for me.

But the morning of the accident, the fear was tangible. 

My heart was sinking.

I was praying.

Fear was so intense.  

Now I have still have a fear of rape but I have a new greatest fear.

I fear that I will have to deal with widow-ness again.

I fear more absolutely terrible unfair things may happen to me in my life.  

I fear losing friends in car accidents or freak events.  

I try to push down the fears out of my consciousness.

But it is still there. 

Still there. 

Sweet Relief

On Wednesday I got my will signed.
And it feels strange to have it done at thirty when most people are enjoying married life and kids and trips with their husbands and wives.
But at the same time I feel a bit relieved.

Roger died interstate.
Meaning he did not have a will.
I had to figure out where things went.
Who got what.
What to do with his motorcycle.
What to do with his gym equipment.
What to do with his prized possessions.

For the last two years, I was always afraid of my death.
Not for the normal reasons.
But for all the things that would happen afterwards.
Scared of who would be in control by default since I did not have children or a husband.
It was a constant thought.

But now I feel like I can die in peace of sorts.
At least who I want will be in control.
They can make the decisions.
And since sometimes it feels like we share a brain, I know things will be okay.
They will be able to figure it out.

For everyone who reads my blog:

• Get a will especially if you have kids.
• Get life insurance especially if you have a spouse and/or kids.  
• Make sure someone knows what to do with your organs.
• Make sure someone knows what to do with your body.

A Roger Dream

I am a huge fan of "Grey's Anatomy".
Sometimes I cry a lot as certain topics hit close to home.
This past week's episode got stuck into my head.
A little more than usual.

Roger does not enter my dreams much anymore.
Sadly, I think.
And this particular dream was not my ideal Roger dream.
But I guess he can wiggle his way into my dreams in ways I might not expect.

In this dream, Roger was alive.
Sort of.
The doctors were able to save his soul.
And they put it into a worm.
The worm was kept at the hospital in a cage.
Yes, a cage.
The cage was wire like for a bunny or something.
Why Roger did not get out of the cage I do not know.
I asked Mr. X to help me free Roger.
We broke into the hospital and pried the wire holes bigger.
Roger escaped.
Roger the worm.

Now, I would love to have some normal Roger dreams.
Dreams where I could talk to him.
See him in his regular body.

One request for the writers of Grey's, no more worm episodes please.

Strange Feeling

It is probably because I turned thirty.
It is probably just timing but... I have found myself twice feeling very out of body.

On Monday, I was sitting in class waiting for my professor to start the class.
I looked down at my left arm and looked at the scar.
Roger is dead.
I have a scar.
I just have a hard time believing that he is dead.
It does not feel so raw anymore.
The pain feels so far away (at the moment) so it does not feel real to me.
If I did not see Roger's handwriting and live in this house, I would seriously doubt it was real at all.
Except I have a scar to remind me.
From the day.
Part of me is grateful for the scar.
Part of me hates it.

Yesterday, I was standing in the classroom.
Circulating between the students helping them with the assignment.
And I could not believe I was there.
It felt strange.
Looking down at me and thinking of the past two years.
And then thinking about three years ago.
I was not even married three years ago.

I cannot even put into words how weird it feels not to have the pain so close to the surface.
I tried to explain to Mr. X last night.
I almost want to cry at times because the pain feels far away.
Almost an oxymoron.

So weird.

So Here I Am

It is my thirtieth birthday.
A few weeks ago, after a post, my friend Candice emailed me about her thirtieth birthday.
How it felt good.
And I have to say I agree.
I am glad to turn at least the page to a new decade.
A new part of my life.

In some ways, I feel I cannot really complain about my 20s.
The first seven years of them were pretty great.
I traveled a lot.
Sweden, Australia, England, France, and Holland.
I moved to NYC.
And then back to Orlando.
I have an amazing set of friends that grows all the time.
I met a fantastic guy and gained his wonderful family.
I had a beautiful wedding.
It is sad and annoying that one August day could cast such a bad taste for my 20s.

I am hopeful and praying for a better decade.
This is not where I thought I would be at people.
A lot of people say that, I know.
I am trying not to be depressed about it.
I met some of my goals.
I own my own home plus a rental.
Mr. X and those amazing friends still are still a big part of my life.
Gizmo and Gadget are the best cats.
I am enjoying my education for the most part.
Started my own business.

So I am trying not to focus on that fact I experienced widowness.
That I lost my best friend and husband.

But today is my birthday.
I will be happy today.