The Other House - Part 2

As I noted, at the end of January, my renters moved out.

And in that, Mr. X and I have done a lot of time at the house preparing it for new renters.

We had to paint about half the house, install a new over the range microwave, steam the carpets, and some light cleaning.

Well after we selected the new color.

And as we were painting the walls, I started to think.

[Painting does that to me. Maybe the monotony?] 

"Would Roger like this color?"

"What would he think?"

"Wow, would he even recognize it now with all the new colors inside and out?"

And then meeting potential new tenants.  

I miss his handling most of this.

I miss him being in charge of the other house. 

And as another family moves in over the next few weeks, I wonder what he would think of them.

Am I choosing the right people?  

Will they be good to the house?  

Not to mention how this is all happening in February.

Of all months, February.  

At least it is not August.

Never Nervous

Last night Kevin and I were watching Next Food Network Star finale.  

It is one of my guilty pleasures and one of the only reality TV shows I watch.

Mr. X and I watch it together as I got him into it as well.  

One of the finalist talked about her father.

Tears came to her eyes.

She talked about how he was always so calm.

He never got nervous but just with through life with a positive attitude.

He has passed away in the last few years.

Tears immediately starting flowing.

Mr. X was like "Why are you crying?"

For my dad, no.

For missing Roger.  

He was always calm no matter what the situation.

And I loved that about him.

When buying our house, calm as a cucumber.

The day before the wedding, cool and collected.

Nothing seemed to rock him.

I asked once if he ever got nervous or anxious.

"Nope, not really.  I have already ran through all the possibilities and the worse case scenario."

Last night as I prepared for my first day of pre-planning, my nerves were become more and more apparent.

My attention span became shorter.

I could not sit still.

My anxiety was elevating.

My heart was starting to race.

Would my coworkers like me?

Would they be helpful?

Can I really do this job?

Why could I not be like Roger?

Even though I have looked at all the possibilities.

That does not reassure me.

That actually makes my brain go into overdrive trying to solve all of the scenarios.

But thankfully today went well.

I am happy with the decision to work at this school.  

And I am loving my coworkers.  

Yesterday, August 7th

Yesterday was horrid.
It has been a long time since I felt so crappy on an important day.
This one snuck up on me.
I did not know it would be such a big deal to me but it was.
And sadly, I felt so alone.
So friendless.

It felt like everyone, except for Roger's family and me, forgot.
My phone did not ring.
No text messages.
No offers to come by.
Not even emails until I expressed how sad I was.

I cannot predict my grief.
But yesterday was horrid.
And disappointing.

Mr. X tried to deal with the ball of emotion that was me.
He tried to hug me.
Tears just sat on the verge of falling all day.
Maybe they think Mr. X can handle it.
Maybe they think it has been three years and I should get over it.
Some may say it is not even a big deal.

Everyone else went on with their life yesterday.
I stayed inside most of the day except for the brief stent to the grocery store to buy cake making supplies.
My body felt so heavy.
Napped when I could not handle it anymore.

As promised, I made Roger a cake.
With layers.
It was not very pretty but it was done.
And it is yummy.

"Always With You"

Like most people, Mr. X likes Harry Potter.

Both the books and the movie.

I, unlike most people, have never read the books.

Years ago, I watched the first and second movies but fell asleep during the second movie.

I have gone to Harry Potter land here in Orlando but mostly for Mr. X.

A friend of ours was hosting a Harry Potter night last weekend.

He was showing part I of the last movie at his home and then we were going to go see part II at a theatre.  

Now, I was mostly doing this for Mr. X.

And to have social time since I do not see this friend too often.

I was a bit nervous.

Would I be completely lost seeing the end of the series and not the middle?

However, the movie was done well enough that I could keep up relatively well.

Not to mention, I have heard many people talk about it enough times that I know a general idea of what has happened.

I did not expect for grief to come into play.

Yes, I had an idea that Harry died or something.

Yes, lots of other people had died too.

But lots people die in lots of movies.

That is not what got me.

What got me was his mother.

I used to tease Roger when we were not together for whatever reason.

As we were talking online or on the phone, I would say something like: 

"How do you know? You aren't here."

He had the same reply every time.

"I am always with you."

Sometimes he would follow up, "I just have to close my eyes and there you are."

Harry Potter's mother said something similar to him near the end after he died.

Something like:

"I will always be with you.  I have always been."

I started to cry.

Thank God for dark theatres.

It makes me tear up even now.

I am not sure if I truly believe Roger is always with me now.

It is hard for me to digest since I cannot always feel him.

And sometimes I wonder if I am making it up in my head when I do.  

But sometimes it does make me feel better.

Almost

Saturday night my heart almost stopped.
Mr. X and I were on our way to a friend's house to watch one of the Harry Potter movies.
We were on "the" road in a loaner car.
We had just passed the accident scene about five minutes before.
As we approached an on-ramp I saw quite a few cars needing to get onto the highway.
So I did what drivers are supposed to do.
I signaled.
I got into the left lane.

The SUV in the right lane just ahead of me decided to get into my lane.
No signal.
No looking.
Just over.
He was about a foot away from the passenger side door.
The side Mr. X was sitting.
I started honking my horn.
The driver started swerving all over the road.
I was torn between hitting my brakes even though there was a mini-van behind me.
Or driving off the side of the road.
Would I go across the median if I went off the road?
I had to slow down though or we were going to hit the SUV.
The van behind me thankfully saw the situation.
The driver went almost off the road as he saw my brake lights.
The SUV got back into the right lane.
And I tried to make sure not to lose control of the wheel.

It was all over in a matter of seconds.
No car hit another.
No one got hurt.
No one died.
But my heart was seriously racing.
In my mind, I could hear the crashing noise.
That unmistakable sound of metal bending and clashing.
And I was scared of losing Mr. X.

Mr. X offered to drive since I was shaken up.
He told me how well I did making quick decisions and handling the car.
Of course I did not take him up on the offer to drive.
No, I am strong.
I can do this.
But I used the excuse the car is a loaner.

I got away from the SUV as quickly as I could.
Unsafe drivers annoy me so much.
There is no way he looked before coming into my lane.
And no signal for a lane change on a major highway?!?

Please be aware when driving.
Please do not text and drive.
Be ten times more careful when you have other passengers in the car.
And obviously, do not drink and drive.
A car is such a heavy piece of equipment and can easily injure/kill others.

Defending Roger

Roger's Diploma on the office wall (camera phone photo)*

I cannot remember when I took Roger's diploma off the wall in the office.
But at some point I moved it into the office closet.
I had a plan for it.
Not a great plan though according to Mr. X.

Roger's diploma was professionally framed.
It was fairly expensive.
So I thought once I received my own diploma I would open up the back and take Roger's out then put mine in.
About a month ago, I received my diploma and one afternoon I decided to implement my plan.
Mr. X was home.
I told him I was going to go frame my diploma.
He followed me into the office as I took Roger's diploma out of the closet.
"What are you doing?!?"
"I am going to put my diploma in this frame."
"No you are not.  That is Roger's diploma."
"Yes, I am going to take his out and put mine in."
"And then what?"
I was not sure.
Mr. X continued to push for Roger's rights.
"That was a big accomplishment for him.  You should not take it out of the frame.  What will you do with the actual piece of paper? Put it away in a closet? Look at it every five years?"
I really did not think that far in advance.
Mr. X continued...
"We should have it on the wall."
"But where?"
"In here.  In the upstairs bedroom. On a wall. But somewhere, not in a closet"
I asked, "What about my diploma?"
"Just spend the money and get it framed."

I started to tear up.
Mr. X was defending Roger.
Two of them against one of me.
So I gave in.
And agreed to take my diploma to Michael's to have it framed as well.
But then another thought...

"What about our kids?" I asked.
"What about them? They will know Roger. Would you not tell them about him?"
And Mr. X is right. It is not like my house is completely Roger-free.
There is a picture near our bedroom.
Roger's clock in our office.
A few pictures in the office.
More pictures in the workout room.
A trunk full of Roger related items upstairs in a closet.
So he is still here in ways.
And I am really not sure how or when I would tell my children about Roger.
When they ask?
Or as they visit Abuela's house?
And how do I explain death to them?
I guess we'll figure it out as we go but I could not help and think of how to explain this person Mommy was married to before Daddy.

Today I received my diploma back.
So on the wall it went.
And Mr. X hung Roger's as well.

*I purposefully blurred out Roger's formal name and inserted "Roger's name".

The Other Shoe Has Dropped

Yesterday I received some heartbreaking news.
I knew this would happen.
I almost knew this was true.

A few years ago my sister was diagnosed with some clotting disorders which have caused her to miscarry several times.
Being sisters, I knew I may have a risk of also having these genetic disorders.
About a month ago at my yearly check-up, my own OB/Gyn insisted that I get tested now since there may be some contraindications of taking hormonal birth control and having these disorders.
So on May 13, I gave eleven tubes of blood.
I prayed that everything would be normal.
I prayed I was not broken.
That somehow my genetics would be completely different than my sister.
By some miracle.
Don't I deserve a miracle?

Last night I saw my doctor's name and number appear on my phone.
I have been trying to get the results back for the last week like a mad woman.
I answered the call to hear my doctor's voice on the line.
She confirmed my gut.
Yes, I have both MTHFR mutation and protein C deficiency.
No more hormonal birth control for me.
And hard pregnancies in the future.

I have been on hormonal birth control this time for about eight and half years.
It has kept my PCOS under control.
Which I have no idea how that is going to play out now.
Mr. X and I were not planning on trying for children for at least two more years but now it looks like that may get pushed up a year if it is going to be harder for me to get pregnant and harder to stay pregnant.
Something I did not even want to do until almost two years ago.
Part of me wishes I still did not want children.
At least maybe then the heartache would be less.

Why can't I get a break?!
Why can't things just be easy from now on?!
Can't I get some sort of immunity from bad things happening?
Ugh...

I'm Getting Married, Again

[I tried to write this post over a week ago before going on vacation but blogger was being weird.  This is part II of this post but it has been more than ten days now so...]

Mr. X has been telling me how much he wants to marry me for some time now.
He has even revealed that he thought of proposing last July but did not.
But in March of this year, he said he would ask me to marry him by the end of the year.
All my friends said it would be while we were on vacation in Alaska.
I thought it would be while I was in Alaska.
But he surprised me a bit.

Over two weeks ago, Mr. X and I were at home on a Friday night just relaxing.
He had just sold some things on eBay.
He turned and told me to find a ring I loved.
We had looked at rings over Christmas and I even tried on a few.
Orginially I was going to go with the traditional diamond engagement ring.
But about a month ago, I decided I did not want another diamond ring.
I had a diamond ring.
I am not a huge bling person and why would I another diamond ring?
I wanted something different.
Something other people would not to compare to the first ring that I still wear on my right hand.
So I asked for a blue sapphire.
A sapphire would match my right hand ring.
And Mr. X and I both love blue.

I found a couple of rings online that we could go see that night in person.
Mr. X told me to get my shoes on.
He was buying me a ring.

We went to two stores.
The first ring was amazing.
But I had to try on the second one at a different store.
I decided the first ring was the ring.
Lo and behold, the lady who helped Roger and I with my first diamond was the only one available to help us.
What are the chances?!
She did not recognize me.
As the girl I was in 2006.
Or the new widow I was in 2008.
Or at least I think not.
At least I hope not.

Mr. X had a plan to present me with the ring the next day with a nice speech after my return home.
But the ring was not ready in time.
We both went to pick up the ring instead.
It started to pour.
I tried the ring on to make sure it fit and gave it back to Mr. X.
It is beautiful.
It is so unique.

We ran back to the car.
Mr. X gave me a small speech that I only remember one specific part.
He said I made him feel like he was at home.
Same thing Roger said to me in the love letter I read after the accident.
I said yes.

A widow getting married.
The Talking Heads song that inspired the title of this blog instantly filled my head.
But I like it here.

The Last Ten Days - Part I

The last ten days have been a huge emotional roller coaster.

Graduation was probably a climax of grief.
After my dad died in January, I was thrown into a highly stressful and busy time of my life.
And as any person who has suffered loss knows, grief does not just go away.
It builds and waits. And builds some more.
Like a volcano waiting to explode.
On the day of graduation, that volcano erupted.
Two grief volcanoes really.
Roger and my dad, simultaneously.

The first one I was almost expecting.
I knew the semester end and graduation were going to be a trigger for me.
I was mostly fine before graduation.
I was mostly fine minutes before I walked across the stage.
Excitement and elation filled my soul.

As I walked across the stage, my lips began to tremble.
The stairs exiting the stage seemed enormous.
Tears started to well up.
As I walked back to my seat, I was still a little shaky.
But no tears fell, thankfully.

After graduation, my friends and Mr. X met me outside.
We were throwing a party to celebrate my graduation.
There was still lots to be done.
Unfortunately, my friends could not come back to my house with me.
Mr. X and I were on our own to complete the party set up.
Suddenly I was stressed.
We had four hours to get everything done and there was a long list of things to be done.

Mr. X and I were working hard and fast to get everything done.
We prioritized the list and some extra things were cut.
I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to hosting parties.
As I was working on some food for the party, the onions Mr. X had so kindly prepped the night before were too big for the recipe.
Grief raised its ugly head.
I burst into tears.
Tears that consumed me for the rest of the afternoon.
Everything became a calamity.

I cried because this is not how I planned my life.
I was a smart teenager and should have finished my formal education years ago.
I was supposed to be married now and celebrating my third anniversary.
Roger and I were supposed to be planning vacations and talking about kid possibilities and when to start trying.
My dad was suppose to be calling me.
Telling me how proud he was.
But none of that was true.
None of that was happening.

Mr. X was being awesome.
He was trying to comfort me.
But it was pretty useless.
I cried for three hours.

After most of the list was complete for the party, I took half a bottle of champagne, went to the bedroom,
shut the door, and cried some more.

I finally surfaced from the debris of grief and tried to celebrate my accomplishment.
One of my widow friends came later to rescue me.
Let me cry.
Let me say all the things I can't say aloud to most people.

The next day I was still recovering from the eruption.
I still miss Roger.
I still miss my dad.
Those things will not go away ever.
But life is improving.

Part II soon...

Perfection

I referred to Two Kisses for Maddy book yesterday.
As I continue to read, I continue to remember.

Yesterday while I was reading, Matt refers to how in those 27 hours between his daughter's birth and his wife's death his life was perfect.
He felt so incredibly happy.

I know that feeling.
I know that exact feeling.
The morning of our accident.
I was finishing up the packing.
Roger was still showering.
He got out of the shower and proclaimed how he must love me.
"I must love you. I just shaved against the grain at 4 something in the morning."
I smiled.  We were on the way to my ten year high school reunion.
Life was perfect.

We had our house with the perfect layout.
Four bedrooms and a big room over the garage.
Three car garage with one of the bays in front of the other.
Nice neighborhood with good schools.

I had an amazing husband.
He was kind and funny.
Had a wonderful family.
Married life was going well.

We had good friends.
I was happy.
I was loved.
I was in love.

But then the most important piece of the puzzle was gone.
In an instant.
Because of something so stupid.
And life was not perfect anymore.

Part of me is afraid to feel this again.
To be completely happy, again.
To be completely in love, again.
I do not want to be crushed, again.

The Wedding Video

About ten days before the wedding, I booked a videographer.
My best friend from childhood was not going to be able to make it to the wedding.
She was in Zambia, Africa with a newborn.
She could not travel but she wanted to see my wedding.
And I wanted her to have at least a little part of it.
Roger and I had just filed our tax return with an unexpectedly large refund.
"Please can we get a videographer?"
I found someone for $600.
Not the best around but he was available and cheap.
We met him the night before the wedding for the first time.
It was a haste decision but I am so glad for it.

After the wedding, Roger and I watched the video once.
It was nothing spectacular.
But it was nice to see the wedding in motion.
To see our friends and family.

Since Roger died, I have not watched the video too often.
Not that many people truly watch their wedding video more than a few times.
On Wednesday, I wanted to watch the video.
I wanted Mr. X to see it.
To see my wedding and meet Roger in a way.
It is always a strange experience for me.
When I see myself on the screen, I do not see me.
I see everyone else as themselves, but not me.
That is someone else.
After the huge weight loss, I thought it was because I looked so different.
But now, that I am fat again, I still do not view the person who looks similar to me as me.
It is a very, very strange feeling.
And in a way, it is not me in that video.
It is a different person at that wedding.
A person I will never be again.

Seeing Roger was a strange experience once again.
Hearing his voice was unfamiliar.  I always forget his voice.
I heard his accent which I do not think I even realize existed.
His fingers were long.  I forgot this.

Then as I watched him touch this person who used to be me something strange happened.
I remembered that day.
Remembered those small moments.
I could remember how he touched me.
His hand on my back.
Holding my hand.
The scruff of his face on mine.

It was like muscle memory.
Thank God for the video.
Thank you Andrea for pushing me to get it.

Ten Years or Six Months

A few weeks ago one of my family members asked me if I would have another wedding.
I started to say "Yes, since Roger and I were only married six months but if we had been married ten years..." when this person said, "Yeah, it would have been harder to move on if you had been together ten years."
I interrupted them.
"No, it is not that."

Obviously I will never know what it would be like to be widowed at ten years of marriage to Roger.
I pray to God I never ever know what it is like to be married ten years then widowed.
But for me, it was more about my future and plans were gone.
I never had a chance to have Roger's babies.
To plan anniversary trips.
To decorate our house together.
To fight about how much money to spend on Christmas.
To get to the point where we finished each other's sentences 100% of the time.
And that among other things was so hard.
I never even made it to my first wedding anniversary.

Would Roger and I have been closer after ten years?
Yes!! Absolutely.
But was only being married six months then widowed or being married ten years with all those plans completed worse??
I don't know.
But I am shocked still that people can think this road is easy because it was only six months of marriage.

Oh people...

New World Record

Growing up my family moved a lot.
My mom and step-dad did not even own a place until I was a sophomore in high school.
In kindergarten alone, right after my biological parents separated, I went to three different schools before Christmas.
Between 1999 and 2003, when I was on my own, I moved twelve times even staying one location for 18 months.
So yeah, I am more accustomed to moving then to staying.
I can move an entire house and do it well in about a weekend.
Another skill I can add to my growing resume.

Yesterday however I realized something.
I have not scoured the grocery or liquor stores for boxes for almost four years.
I have not thought "Man, I do not want to have to change that after I leave."
I do not believe I have ever lived forty-eight months in the same location in my thirty years.
A new world record for me.
The house is different of course.
And wow has life changed.
But there is something comforting in staying in one place and having a real home.
In going to the same grocery store and driving on the same roads in the same direction.

Of course, with all these nice comforting feelings, I had to realize how if I have been in one place this long, it means Roger has not.
It means I have lived in this house for over three times longer than he did.
It means Mr. X has lived in this house about half the time Roger did.
And will surpass his time here before 2011 is put on the shelf.
It means that one day, Roger will only be a sliver in this house's history.
And all of that is kind of weird for me.
A lot weird for me.

Out With the Old & In With the New

Like a good blogger and a reflective person, here is my 2010 to 2011 post.
Yes, three or four days late depending on the count.

First, 2010.
Wow, I am glad another year is down honestly.
Finally I feel like it is okay to be happy.
Outsiders surely expect me to be by this point.
Most days, I do.
I see myself laughing.
Smiling at old memories.
And at times when I do cry, I am better at giving myself a break.
I feel more accepting of my life and myself for the most part.
There are still moments of complete disbelief but as I understand, that will always happen.
That's the way the human brain works fortunately/unfortunately.

2010 was good to me.
The business is up and running.  It is going fairly well with more and more strangers contacting me for sessions.
I entered my third decade on earth with friends and family with a surprise party.
Mr. X and I became more serious.
As far as education goes, I passed several certification tests and have only one semester left.
The holidays this year were not as bad as they have been with almost a touch of Christmas spirit I have not felt in years.
As a present for myself and increasing my home value a little, the patio was screened in.

For this new year, I feel like one of my major life goals will finally be complete.
I will finish my degree in May.
I am slightly disappointed that it has taken me thirteen years to get a bachelors but I am glad to finally be getting my piece of paper.
January is already looking like a good photography month with seven sessions so far.
I am going to start advertising this year with a few ads placed in local publications.
And as I mentioned in my resolution post, I will love me.

Since I love lists.
What I will do to love me:
1.  Lately, I have not cared so much about my appearance.  Apathy was the name of the game most of the time.  However, I do not want to be so apathetic.  Yes, my appearance does not define me but I will care more.
2.  Like most (maybe all) people, I want to lose some weight.  But in a healthy way.  Not a fad diet or magic potion, but I want to start exercising more.  I want to run again.  My daily schedule should be more stable so I can stick to this better.  Maybe even complete a new 5K this year.
3.  I will accept me for who I am.  Not what my friends expect themselves to be.  I will grade myself on my own standards, not theirs.  Isn't this what the 30s are suppose to be about?
4.  I will try harder to stick to my budget but not hate myself for going over.  I have done extremely well for not working.

Here is twenty-eleven.  May it be exactly what I need.

Wedding Dreams

When Roger and I got engaged, they came.
Wedding dreams and nightmares.
Ones where I was pregnant.  Ones where the catering never came.
Ones where things went terribly wrong.
But none of those came true.
The wedding went off flawlessly (at least from my view).

After the wedding, I had wedding dreams and nightmares too.
So did Roger.
Of course it was too late for those to come true.
I had new real nightmares awaiting me.

Last night, I had a new wedding nightmare.
But...
It was not a wedding with Roger.  It was a wedding with Mr. X.
[Interestingly enough I referred to him as Mr. X in the dream.]

In this particular dream, I was in my hotel room getting ready putting on my dress.
But for some reason, all my bridesmaids were gone.
It was just me.
"Why am I alone?  Where is everyone?"
Then I realized I had forgot to book a room for the wedding night for Mr. X and me.
The bridesmaids were going to be sleeping in this room.
Mr. X and I can't sleep in this room with my bridesmaids on my wedding night!
So I decided to drive back to the hotel I had stayed at with my bridesmaids a few nights before.
As I am about to leave the hotel, I see Mr. X.
I tell him he needs to drive me to the other hotel to see if I can get a room for us and he agrees.
The wife of my photographer mentor (and former wedding photographer) was working at that hotel and I asked her if she could hook me up.
We drove back to the hotel where the wedding was to be but I had not done my hair or my makeup.
As I am about to go up to my room, I see it is time for the wedding to start.  I ask Mr. X to stall the crowd so I can finish getting ready.  "It will only be five more minutes, I promise."  He smiles and agrees.
The coordinator spots me and the bridesmaids have already gone down the aisle.  Everyone is waiting on me.  She says it is time to start and that I look fine.  No need for makeup or my hair today.
I beg for more time to get ready.  My hair is in rolled into an everyday bun.
"I need to look my best. There will be pictures of this day."
She insists that I walk down the aisle now.
I concede but insist that I will be putting on makeup before the formal pictures.
I start to walk down the aisle.  My bouquet is magically in my hands.
My heart starts to beat fast and loud.  It feels like it is going to beat out of my chest.
I feel lightheaded. (I wonder if my heart was beating this fast while I was sleeping?)
Midway down the aisle, I see the wife of my photography mentor again sitting in the audience.
I run over to her.  I need help.  I feel so alone.
I plead to her to help me.
She tries to coax me.  "You can do this.  It is going to be okay."

I woke up.

I laid in bed a few minutes before getting up.
On my new wedding day, at some point in the future, I cannot be alone.
Someone must stay with me the night before.
And I will probably need a good friend to walk me down the aisle this time.

My Holiday Check-in

You can't see it but there is a superman underneath the white shirt.

I almost feel like I owe a posting about how I am doing this season.
"All widows & widowers report your status please."
So here it goes...

Putting up the Christmas tree was hard this year.
About half my Christmas ornaments are from Roger.
So the process of decorating the tree was pinged with a bit of sadness.
Scoobie Doo. Coke bears. The Hulk. Clark Kent outfit.
I tried hard to be happy for Mr. X as he adores Christmas.
But Christmas has never been a great holiday for me.
I think my growing up beat it out of me.
My mother was hardcore about decorating.
Starting immediately after Thanksgiving.
Christmas threw up everywhere on everything.

Then I was in choir from the fourth grade through the twelve.
We sang Christmas carols and inspired music from August till January.
Needless to say, I had enough Christmas for almost a lifetime.
Then throw the dead husband thing on top and I could almost not have Christmas and be okay.

But after that small emotional incident with the tree, I have not felt overly sad.
A few good happy memories have found their place in my head.
Not necessarily Christmas oriented but it has been nice to smile instead of cry.

But I have also been busy.
The semester ended last week and getting there was a challenge.
I took a required state exam yesterday which meant I was studying a lot.
[I passed by the way.]
Not to mention Lil Paperia photo shoots and shopping for gifts.

I do wonder how the actual day will be.
And New Year's Eve.
It is always hard for me to enter into a new year.
Further and further away from 2008.

So far so good really for me.
I am in shock I feel this "good" in ways.
Parts of me thought I would never be able to enjoy the holidays again.
Alas I am.  Alas.

Flashing Back

I am not sure if the flashbacks will ever go away completely.
They certainly are not as raw but still linked with emotion for me.
Sometimes they came out of left field but sometimes they are linked to just a trigger to remind me.

On Saturday night, Mr. X and I went to have dinner with his parents.
We had a nice dinner and then sat down to watch a movie together.
"The Family Stone" was on regular TV and I was the only one who had seen it.
I like the movie as I think it is pretty humorous at times.
I also knew there was sad ending to the movie.

The tears came.
And came.
And came.
Thankfully no one, except Mr. X, could see my face.

At one point in the movie, the oldest daughter lays down with her mother as she is napping.  She wraps her arms around her.
As Roger was being pulled off life support I just wanted to crawl up into the bed with him.
Especially once they pronounced officially gone.
I wanted to wrap my arms around him.  Pull him close to me.
But I couldn't.
Because he was donating his organs, because I was donating his organs, he had only a few minutes before we had to let him go.
Or at least it felt like a few minutes at the time and to me.

At another point, the husband's face as he crawled into bed with his wife truly expressed my feelings.
After I knew Roger was going to die, crawling into bed was painful.
Knowing he would never come home to me.
Knowing he would never crawl into bed with me.
I remember those moments so vividly.
Memories are linked to emotions and emotions were certainly high.

At the end of the movie, you see the entire family for their first Christmas without their mom.
Although my first set of holidays were not too bad, my second set hurt a lot.
I was no longer numb.
Emotions were at the surface.
Roger was truly dead the second set of holidays.
The first set he was just not here.

I do not know why I am surprised at how weepy I became.
From the outside, I want to laugh at myself.
Did I really think grief was done with me?
Did I really think I would not think of Roger as the holiday season madly approaches?
At least this year, it does not feel like a boiling pot of water ready to come over the top of the pot.
This year, at least so far, it feels like a few bubbles coming to the surface sporadically.
It reminds me of the sulfur springs in St. Lucia.

Sigh.

#515

I cannot think of a cohesive title for this one.
It may end up being a rambling of thoughts.
But...

I met my best friend Holly in the summer of 2007.
A year before things went down.
We met while in the midst of wedding planning.
We clicked pretty much right away.
Since we both worked in front of a computer screen, we would chat for hours as our day ticked by.
Honestly, it was one of the things that helped me get through my job.

At my wedding, she and her fabulous husband Scott helped do some of the set up.
It was part of a barter deal.  They helped us and Roger and I helped them with their set up.
She got married about three months after me.
We were all husbands and wives.
We did dinners together and hung out.
I just knew the four of us would be friends forever.
Just like the movies.

I called Holly the morning of.
One of the three people I called first.
I do not really remember my thinking but I wanted my Holly there.
And she came.
And she did not leave me for days.

Yesterday morning I logged on to my chat program to see if Holly was online.
And she was.
We chatted a few minutes.
Later in the day, I was thinking about my friendship with Holly and how thankful I am for her.
Then I realized something.
Something I knew would happen eventually.
Someone I had met after Roger was around longer than him.
Holly and I have been friends for over three years now.
And Roger and I were just short of three years together.
I know it does not seem like a big deal.
But a part of me coiled at the thought that I could know someone longer than Roger even when I met them after Roger.
Yes, I still get to know Roger third hand after his death.
But not from Roger.
It feels unnatural for this to happen.
Weird.

And I know there will be a day when I know Mr. X for longer than Roger.
Maybe this is a rehearsal for that day.

Sigh...

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.