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Monday, March 14, 2016

3.14.2016 rambles

AHHH…the journey:

So, it has been only 38 days, and I am definitely in a state of denial—even though I say I am not. 

The rambles, the random thoughts, the questions, the concerns—the looks of sympathy…UGHHHHHH

They all swirl around and around— Then most of them land in 2 places:  the notes section of my phone and the late night texts (to those of you who have stayed awake “talking” to me—I sincerely thank you). 

When the mess-the horrible mess that completely fills my mind-not clouding it, but crushing it—when it has no where to go-- it gazes at bad reality TV and repeatedly listens to the same songs over and over and over-while I just lie on the floor by the fire…pretty much almost every night.

I can’t concentrate to read, and I am paralyzed by all of the things I need to do…ALL THE THINGS…and then there are the notations…

For today:  a glimpse: (just randomly picked)
2.17:  the canvas of Maris on the mantel falls—almost hitting her
2.18:  I don’t want to be the person of pity—so I am going to avoid all “events”
2.18:  my kid has no dad
2.18:  I am agitated at random moments…it’s like:   did I just yell??
2.18:  it’s barely been any time at all…and I am exhausted
2.23:  coffee pot makes a loud noise like it is heating up at 10:30 at night
2.24:  listening to her cry, seeing her tears—not being able to stop the tears
2.24:  will I ever curl up with someone again?
2.29:  the valentine banner keeps swaying
  3.8:  it looks like there are whiskers in his sink

I have yelled, and she has yelled.  She talks about daddy, and I call him MIT.  She looks like him all day long…and sometimes, it is hard to see him in her face.  Tonight (3.14) she said she wished he would come back home.  Me, too.

I have already been judged.  Some say they are proud and in awe of how I have handled all of this, and some say I should look-- hide my life---be the person who hides.  I don’t know how to be except to be me—whomever she may be…

I post on social media my journey, but then I am judged.  I am having too much fun, spending too much time with friends…whatever.  I could also post what I do most every night.  Reading with her, snuggling with her…listening her tell me that I am “the best girl ever”…but really after 11 pm, when everyone is asleep:  NOTHING.  Alone, feeling sad.  1am 2am 3am…

I get all these questions:

What are you going to do?
Are you keeping the truck?
What are you doing with the ashes?
Are you OK financially?
When and are you going back to work…and why not?????
What are you going to do next?  What do you think you want to do??
Will Maris stay in school this summer?
Are you applying for another job?
Are you cleaning out his stuff?
Have you been the therapy?
Is Maris going to therapy?
What do you do all day?
How are you?
How are you?

And the list goes on….

I have some answers, but I don’t have answers for all of them…

 I love Maris.  More than life……She is her daddy’s girl.  Maybe I am not doing it “right,” but after 5 weeks, I know that she is my focus—always.  I cry every single day.  I curse him every single day.  I love him.

And …our fav singer, Ray is coming to Cbus, finally after 3 years..and I have no one to go with…unless I am the “3rd.”  I can’t recall the last time I was the 3rd…bc I always invited the 3rd,, but now….I am the 3rd.

And now…I am the 3rd.
And Maris has no one to help her find the Easter Eggs…

3.13.2016




Wednesday, March 2, 2016

The Parting Words--my words about Tim from his funeral 2.10.2016

This was my speech at the funeral for Tim.  May of you requested it.  It was written in about an hour or so…and it was just the words that poured into my computer in this quiet moments.  I could edit it with dozens more things to tell you (like how he gave Maris her first Depot Dog, fed her sour patch kids on the way to school, touched my backside every morning when got up and was getting ready for work.  He would truly do anything for anyone:  from picking up a friend when the car breaks down, to holding Ella and Audrey to watch fireworks, to picking up the tab, to hugging everyone who needed it…and the list goes on and on.

But, the writing below is what I said on that day to his family, friends, and the community of Powhatan.  It was a honor to speak about my Tim to all of you. 

***Thank you all for coming.  Seeing all of you warms my heart and is a true testimony to what an influence and presence he was in this community.  For those of you who really know me, I love a great memoir, and I can make a lot of lists.  So, here we go: a slice, a snippet, a sideways glance into who Tim was and will always be.

I met Tim when he was up, and I was down at our apartment complex.  This really symbolizes who we were and who are as a couple.  He was my up when I was down, and I was up when he was down, but with a smile like his, he was really never down. 

I always made fun of him:  Mr. River –the girls lined up to date him~waving to all of the teachers-the “classic popular jock.”  The jock who hated football 2 a days.  The guy who wore powder blue to his prom.  He never not smiled, ever.  Everyone says that over and over.

Tim was the kind of kid who was always falling down.  That gray tooth was legit.  He tumbled so many times, it turned gray-all the while his family and friends were chatting on the front porch, “Where’s Tim?’  BOOM BOOM.  He just fell down the steps. 

Did you know that Tim tried to swim to –West Virginia?—That he almost flipped a canoe in the creek rapids? –That he busted his ear jumping the wake?

Tim told me over and over some of favorite moments were when he spent time with his cousins –his many cousins-especially going to Columbus—that was a big deal he told me, and of course, I laugh about that even now. 

Being with his family and his amazing friends was his favorite thing of all…sounds a lot like Maris. 

Tim studied hard in college.  He said he couldn’t get the good grades like Jimmy and Dave.  He wanted to go out, but all he did was study.  I told him over and over that no one believes that baloney because we all know he was at the Greenery drinking from those nasty double dipping buckets of beer.

Tim said the moment that college ended, he packed up his stuff and drove out of there, listening to : “The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades.”  He still loves that song.  And of course he quickly found a job in Maryland.  He showed me that house.  He brought a tree home from there to plant in our yard.  Crap!  I don’t even know if it still there!  #badwife

Meeting Tim taught me to stop being a cynic and to love a little.  I still recall the moment that I knew I loved him.  Sitting at the cooker, looking over his oriental chicken salad, and I thought, “I love this man.” 

Our wedding day was a beautiful blur because the truth is-the wedding is a day, and the marriage in the work. 

We built a house, and it became our home once we walked into the doors despite the raging snowstorm.  I can still recall eating Wendys in the frame of the house before it was out living room. 

Beginning our journey into marriage was a challenge.  I decide to go back to college –my dream of becoming a teacher was going to be a reality.

As we began the journey into becoming parents…it became a beast-one that after many years became a chore.

Having Maris was the greatest joy of our lives.  I recall the moments of feeling her tumbling through my belly.  He loved feeing her move.  I recall the moment that Tim knew she was a girl right before the doctor said it.  Maris Leigh was here!  From that single moment, they became best friends.

Everyone loved Tim.  No one disliked him.  No one.  He always had a smile.  Happy and always singing like Sammie, strong and focused like his dad.  He shared brains with John and Jimmy, and his family.  And you..all of you, his best friends were woven together into his heart.  You know who you are, woven together I have ever know.  And my gosh did we have some CRAZY times.  SHHHHH. 

But here are some things you may not know or have forgotten:

1.    1. Tim is on his last pair of Tevas.  They are ugly and smelly, but they are so “comfortable.”  I was planning to hide them in May.
2.     This snow—it’s him.  He stalks the weather channel—watches other cities get snow, throwing pillows around the room because he’s pissed it isn’t Columbus—not even a flake.  
3.     He’s obsessed with chips.  I can make a 4 course meal, and 20 minutes later, he is eating Fritos. 
4.      He hates to wash cars, carpets, clean the basement, but his lawn, PLEASE!  I have to tell you about the Zero Turn Radius Mower.  Last summer he spent 3 weeks walking around with the Toro ad like it was attached. Then one day he tells me to lie down on the bed next to him.  I think, “Geesh, now?”  He looks at me side by side, face to face, and he looks me in the eye.  “I wanna tell you something.”  I start to get sweaty, wondering “Like what?”  Then he says, ”I’m buying the lawn mower!”  Really!!  “I told you to buy that it 3 weeks ago!”  Tim did not let a single blade of grass ungroomed or, we were going to see lightning strike. 
5.      Every morning, he leaves 2 socks from the night before on the living room floor –it is just too much trouble to take them into the laundry room.  Even Maris says, “There’s daddy’s socks.”  She is starting to do it, too.
6.     He secretly wants to be on Survivor.  I let him dream it.  He hates to be cold.  He would last 48 hours. 
7.      He makes messes everywhere—coffee grinds, shake powder, wine droplets, crud on the stove, on the counter, in the basement, the garage, and his car.  Nests everywhere, and let’s not forget his office. 
8.     But, he does my laundry.  (I’m never going to have clean clothes again!).  He turns down my bed at night, and he changes the light bulbs…and the smoke detectors.  Who the hell is going to unclog the sing with that damn snake?  (any takers?)
9.       He has the softest feet—it’s kinda weird how much lotion he uses. 
10.   He made a smoker out of 2 terry cotta clay pots.  It makes the best smoked pork ever—he’s pretty famous for it.  I’ll need help with that, too.
11.  He insists on trying to get Maris to love classic rock, ACDC, and country, but she just asks for mommy’s hip hop and Adele.  “Play My Song,” she says
12.  He had Maris outside in the fresh November air on the 3rd day of her life –cold with a onesie and mittens. 
13.  Although he tried dozens of times, he never made the perfect ribs, but we went to the Jazz and Rib festival every year—it was a favorite with Maris. 
14.  He has the worst handwriting –in fact his whole family does. 
15.  He is filled with all of these “Tim-isms.”  “Milk makes me sweat.”  “It’s a no-brainer (always about money).”  “Wheat beer doesn’t agree with me (even though we drank Blue Moon for 5 years).
16.  His favorite places were at the bar in his parents’ kitchen where he would put his feet up on the other chair so no one could sit down…and on the Ohio River—“it doesn’t get better that this.”
17.  He spent over a month watching You Tube videos on his beard.  He has dozens of products—I called his beard his “zip code.”
18. In fact our last texts and conversations were about his zip code and the attention it was getting at the bar.  Everywhere he went he became buds with their zip codes.
19.  If we were in the Valley, there’d better be a boat, Corona, Kenny Chesney, and DiCarlos.  I used to get to lay on the back of the boat, but a 4 year old is slowly learning to drive and scoot mommy off the back of the boat.  I used to tell Tim what was mine was mine, and what his was mine.  But, um, I guess Maris will simply say …It’s all mine.  That’s our diva.
20. Tim and Maris race up the stairs every night, and he lets her win.  “I winned,” she says.  She only really wants daddy to rock her, tuck her in, and pet her.  When she cries at night she always wants daddy-Unless he hurts he feelings –then she runs to mommy.  A simple “no” from daddy gives her hurt feelings, and she says, “ Daddy hurt my feelings, and I need a hug.”
21. Tim and I love to cook, listen to jazz and Ray, have fires, drink wine (most often too much).  Maris was becoming a part of that.  He made a great night cap, Moscow Mule, and Bloody Mary.
22. He also sang the Dr. Hook song to me, “When You’re In Love With A Beautiful-It Gets Hard.  Everybody Wants Her.  Every body Wants Her. She’s The Most Beautiful Woman Around.”  It brightened my day every time.
23. He would sing Drake’s “I’m Proud Of You” to Maris.  “Daddy sing my song.”
24. Does anyone know his hand wave?
25. He has the worst rage ever.  When he passes someone who is driving too slowly in the wrong lane, he tells me to give them the “asshole look.”
 
The truth is, I could going forever because behind closed doors there are thousands of tiny moments that will surely stop me in my tracks all day long.

My true prayer for Maris is that I can, with the help of all of you, reveal his smile on her face, fill her heart with generosity, logic, an affection for all things outdoors, and that she’ll be immersed daily in conversations about her daddy-stories that keep his heart alive, stories and tales of who he was and how much she is just like daddy.   She’ll learn to love life like he did-driving the boat, ramping the four-wheeler (OK not too high), chasing the damn geese, braising short ribs, enjoying a fire on the patio, waiting for a “really big snow,” and wearing a ball cap incessantly.  And she will love deeply.  I love you daddy.  I wanna snuggle with your daddy.

Tim, you are my UP forever now.  Every raindrop, snowflake, rainbow, and butterfly will be you.  Every ray of sunshine and fallen leaf will be kisses from you, forehead kisses and pets on your chest.  I’ll hear you say you are the babydoll, beevis, and the best wife ever.  You are the best moments of my life.  “Never say never doesn’t apply to us, “ as we said in our personal wedding vows.  “Because I’ll never give up on you, and I will never give up on us.”  I love you , honeykins.  Arrows.  Arrows.


Thank you.

Monday, February 22, 2016

Just 2.23.2016 Just 17 days

So….Here it is…--the first of...

A friend asked my tonight when my next blog will be.  I said “By this weekend.”  But, if I have learned anything from …well, don’t wait…just DO.

If you are stumbling across this blog, you should know that I type whatever I choose.  Tonight, I will type the whatever of tonight, of the last 17 days…The last 17 days after I lost my husband.

Tim…was a thousand smiles, and in my next blog, I might share the speech I made at his funeral…a speech, a talk, words…in his memory

  I will never regret speaking, but I would have regretted not speaking…not sharing a tiny piece of who he was.  And though many said they could not have done that—the truth is (as the famous quote says), “You never know how strong you are until strong is the only option.”  Strong was my only option. 

Strong was my only option because I was not only speaking for Tim, but for his entire family…and quite frankly, the community of Powhatan.   He was so proud of his roots, and I knew I had to respect and honor his hometown and the people who lived there—and HIM. 

So, I decided very early into this HELL—and I will call it HELL because that is where my emotions are…(I wrote in previous blogs that I do not believe in “choosing happy,” and for crying out loud—what the F is happy about this???  What is a choice of an emotion when someone dies?  Really??)  So, I decided that I wanted to blog my journey…so if you will join me, I will take you through my year.  My blog is called “A Year In and Of The Life.”  So…here we go.

My husband was killed in a car accident on 2.6.2016.  I spoke and texted with him past midnight on the 5th, so I know this happened on the 6th.  I chose, and I will forever choose NOT to know the details.  I know him.  I know that he was with his “boys” doing what they had done since they were 14.  I will never blame anyone, but I will curse his fucking ass over and over….for leaving us.  Us, meaning me and his 4 year old daughter.  Damn him for leaving us----for leaving HER.

In the moments before I knew, I drove fast/furious to his hometown.  I drove thinking he would be in a hospital with months of physical therapy ahead of him.  I drove with silent and vehement prayers.

But when I arrived in his hometown, my worst fears were true.  How dare he leave me, but hell…how dare he leave the apple of his eye—the one about whom he said over and over, “I love her to pieces.”  I screamed and yelled.  I cried.  It’s not funny, but in the days that followed, I tried to be my jovial self by saying that I trumped Sally Field in Steel Magnolias.  Oh I did.   

I am grateful for the community of Powhatan.  People were instantly at my side, as we cried, for not only Tim, but for 2 other men of this town.  These 3 men were not only residents….they were a legacy of their own families that spanned generations.  These men were MEN.  They were the kind of men that people speak of when they say, “He was a good man.”  They were.  They were great men…They will always be great men.  I had a great man…a man of integrity and “that smile.” He will live on…in the smiles of his girl….our incredible miracle, Maris. 

The days that followed…all I can say is that…my friends and family saved me.  I may choose to write more of this, but tonight, I simply want to share that this community was not sad, not devastated, not numb, not angry, not in denial, not any of these words.  They were, as I was…a word that does not encompass how we felt.  Tears weren’t enough.  Yelling was not enough.  Staying silent was not enough.  Pretending was not enough.  Cursing the hell out of them was not enough.  The word…to describe our emotions does not exist.  It simply does not. 

Tonight, I simply will write this….We are not too busy.  We are not that pissed or angry at those who have “wronged” us.  We are not really ready to shut the door on those whom at one time might have been our closest friends for some “reason.”  We are not that damn fucking bitter.  We are not better than others.  We are not really “loners” thay don’t need anyone.   We are not …we are not more than those who surround us, uplift us, make us smile, get us a coffee, make us laugh, hug us no matter what the situation is, laugh with us, cry with us, let us lie on their laps while they pet our hair, and say I love you.  Screw all that. 

We are all going to die.  What are you waiting for…what????  You can’t connect when you are gone.  You can’t pour a glass of wine with your friends, and watch bad TV when you are gone.  You can’t go hiking, go to happy hour (even with a kid), to the park, to listen to jazz, to eat food truck food, to sing songs in the car at the top of your lungs, to go sledding, to build sand castles, to drink beer in a little glass, to watch reality TV, and to hug, to love, to hold each other…when you are gone.  YOU CAN’T!!!!  You simply can dream it, wish it, but you can’t do it.  …Not when you are gone…when a person from your walks of life are GONE.   

GO DO IT.  Hold each other, eat the cake, pour the wine, play in the grass, and hug, and hug, and hug, and hug…Just take a moment to hold on…

Maybe this post seemed like a ramble, but that is where I am on day 17. 

*** a quick side note of gratitude to you (you know who you are…the close and not close—the friends and those who are just reaching out)….thank you.  Thank you. 

Just hold them close.  Call that person you are at odds with…Make a new friend.  Smile.  Smile.  Smile.  That is what he did.  Smile. 

I sit here sipping on a little bit of bourbon because he always wished I would order one “neat.”  Here you go, honeykin.  I am pissed at hell, but I love you endlessly.  Through all of the almost 16 years of marriage…I have loved you each day.  I miss you. I miss you.