A Little Bit of Happy and a Little Bit of Sad.

This coming Monday would have been my husband's 36th birthday. Instead, it will be the second that I had to mark without him.  All week I've felt the weight of my grief with such intensity.  The disbelief that he's gone. The whys, the if onlys and the its not fairs.

He died in July 2013 and after getting through a full round of all the first milestones, I had pretty much assumed that I'd put the most difficult steps behind me.  However, since then, I've faced the shocking realisation that this is certainly not guaranteed. Because how is it possible to rate degrees of difficulty in days-without-your-husband when it comes to being a widow?  Some are easier than others, of course, but there's no logic or rational scale.

So there I was, thinking that I after getting through his first post-death birthday I would know what to do with myself this year.

Nope.  I'm totally at a loss.

Last year, his birthday was the first of the key milestones (other than Christmas and the day he proposed).  His birthday was the first Big One.  We were seven months in and still in a great deal of shock.  However, with the help of a couple of his friends, I was able to come up with a plan.

I organised a barbecue for family and friends, followed by a fund-raising lawn bowls afternoon at a beautiful venue in his home town of Sydney.  More than 50 of us gathered on this very difficult day and raised more than $1000 for a charity that raises awareness and supports people with depression, Beyond Blue.

It was a difficult day, it was very sad, but if felt like the exact thing Dan would have wanted us to do. To come together, have a few beers, a laugh (and a cry) and support each other.  We we placed a framed photo of him on a table and his favourite football team were even playing on the television t the bowls club.  It was the perfect way to celebrate a man who was loved by so many.

There was talk about holding an annual event, but this year his birthday fell on a week day, people have been busy with holidays, babies and weddings.  I know it may not be the case but it felt to me that life has seemed to have moved on for a lot of his friends, even though I know they think of him often and miss him always.  If I had of tried to drum up some enthusiasm for a get-together I know they would have rallied, but I didn't have the energy myself.

So I'll be in our home, in Brisbane, alone and away from his family and friends.  I have at least had the foresight to arrange for the day off work, but beyond that, I was totally stumped at how to mark the day.

Nothing felt grand enough, suitable enough, solemn enough and happy enough.  This was the day that the world welcomed a very special person.  Even though he's no longer here, it's a day that should be celebrated.  Shouldn't it?  This was my problem - I didn't know whether to give in to my sadness or focus on how wonderful this day was. Nothing felt right.

After struggling all week with what to do with myself, I finally came up with some semblance of a plan.  I will have a quiet morning at home, visit his grave, meet my sister for lunch at a restaurant that he loved and then take myself off for a relaxing and indulgent massage at my favourite day spa in the afternoon.

A little bit of happy and a little bit of sad.  And nothing that can't be cancelled at the last minute if it all goes to shit and I just need to hide under the blankets in bed for the day.  Because as I'm sure we all know, sometimes, regardless of the best laid plans - grief doesn't care about our agenda.  It roars on in and then seeps quietly away on its own schedule.

Embracing the After Birthdays

Birthdays. It's one of the hardest parts. My first birthday in this afterlife was just three months after my fiancé died. I didn't even want to think about my birthday much less have one. We had decided to go to the Grand Canyon that year for my birthday, since I had never been to a national park. Refusing to spend my 30th birthday in bed, I decided to take the trip anyway. So in late September, his mother and I hopped on a plane and headed for Arizona. It felt like exactly the right place to be, and the exact right person to be there with. On the morning of my birth, there we stood, silently overlooking the canyon… both feeling a connection to this deep wound in the earth because of our own deep wounds of loss.

That year, I didn't want to see anyone or speak to anyone on my birthday. I didn't want my friends or my family. I didn't want to gifts or cards or balloons or a party. With the exception of his mother, I wanted nothing more than to be totally cut off from my life and to just sit silently with my heart. So the canyon proved to be the perfect location for that… after all there isn't even any cellphone reception in the park.

Last year, I had a small party with only a few very close friends and my fiancé's family. It was a small step towards re-entering life… towards being able to allow joy in again. Of course it was also full of a lot of sadness and weeks of dread leading up to the day. I was worried constantly about how dreadful the day was going to be. How painful it was going to be. If I was going to have a total breakdown. If I was even going to be able to get out of bed. But all in all, the day was filled with love, and a small party of those who matter to me most.

This year however is what I think I will always look back on as the birthday of re-entering life. I had plans for this weekend again with my close friends and family as last year, but then I did something else. Something BIG. At the last minute, I invited a bunch of friends from the gym to come out for dinner and drinks last night. There's a few reasons this was such a big deal. Firstly, because none of us have yet to hang out outside of the gym, so there was a big risk no one would even show up. But more importantly, these are really some of the first new friends I have made since he died, due to the fact that I left Dallas very soon after he died. Yup. NEW people. AFTER people.

You all know how scary and difficult and stressful that transition into letting new people into your world is. They didn't know our person - and we don't quite know how to fit these two worlds together. But, I took a deep breath, and sent out the invite, trusted that it would work out for the best.

The last reason - and biggest reason - that this was a huge deal was the fact that I even WANTED to do it in the first place. That's right. I wanted to celebrate. I wanted to celebrate with new people and old. I wanted to finally open myself up to allowing the new world and the old world to collide a bit. I wanted to embrace joy fully. Holy cow… how did that happen?

Not only did a few people come out, but quite a few. Probably 8 or 10 people showed up, and we had such a fun night. Honestly more fun than I've probably had all year. And to my complete amazement - even despite having quite a few drinks in me - I did not ever get emotional. I stayed fully in my joy the entire night, and never did it even occur to me to actually get upset. By the morning, I was so shocked that I had been so busy having fun that I never had a moment to be sad.

There was something really beautiful about the fact that these people were brought into my life because of his death… because of my moving here right after he died. It made me realize that every step of letting the new joys of life in actually keeps him even closer to me. Somehow it seems to solidify his place in my life even more strongly. Somehow, it is still like he is right in the middle of all of it. And I'm slowly beginning to see that letting more of the new life in doesn't actually mean that any part of me is left behind, but that he comes with me as he brings new people into my world that never would have otherwise been part of it. I'm definitely marking this birthday as a pivotal one in my new life.

Happy Birthday

From our honeymoon, proudly showing off my "new" initials.
Eight years later I am still proud of my last name.

Today is my husband’s birthday. He would have been 35 years old.

This day has been creeping up on me since Halloween.

I found myself having to count backwards to remember just how old my husband would have been.

When I realized he would have been 35 I laughed. I laughed because he would have been “old”.

I was thinking about what my husband would look like when he was 60 years old.. 80 years old.. and as hard as I try to envision what he would look like.. my brain cannot come up with an aged Seth vision.

My brain will always see him as 31 years old.

I was thinking about when we were married and planning on growing old together.. I never was able to see us old and gray.

It’s almost like I knew he would never live to be old.

With yesterday being International Survivors of Suicide day and today being my husband’s birthday.. I find it ironic and painful.

Ironic that my husband’s birthday falls the day after Suicide Survivors day.

Years ago I didn't even know a suicide survivor was a real thing, I would have thought a suicide survivor was someone that attempted and lived through it.. nor did I know there was a day dedicated to suicide survivors.

Years ago I never knew my husband would be dead by 31 years old.. and would be dead by suicide.

Years later here I am.. fully aware what a suicide survivor is. And fully aware there is a day to recognize the suicide survivors among us.

Now I find myself having to do math to figure out how old my husband would be.

Now I have to count backwards to figure out how long it’s been since he died.

Now I find myself dwelling in self care. Trying to get through his birthday. Then Thanksgiving. Then Christmas. Then New Years.

I’m officially half way through my six month slump that paralyzes me every year.

This time last year.. I was a very different person.

I was crippled by my husband’s birthday. I was crippled by the fear of the holidays coming up.

I was crippled by grief and fear.

Fear that I would not live through another year without my husband.

A year later here I am.. looking forward to the holidays. Looking forward to spending time with my family. And not planning on hiding in bed until the day passes.

It’s amazing what passing the three year anniversary has done for me, my life and my grief.

Somewhere along this journey.. Something clicked.

Something clicked to help me recognize my husband’s birthday.. something clicked to stop the paralyzing grief that his birthday brings.

Something clicked that allowed me to say “Happy birthday honey, I love you.”

Through Your Eyes

source

Yesterday, my 6 year old turned into a 7 year old. Like any birthday, I can hardly believe it. But birthdays after loss can be so much more bittersweet. Bitter for the every moment that Jeremy is missing out on his daughter's life, and sweet that in spite of the great tragedy of losing her daddy, Faith is growing into a beautiful young girl. I'm so proud of who she is and the heart she carries with her.

While I am always proud of my children, I've also recently taken notice of what a spectacular thing it can be to stop and look at them through Jeremy's eyes. It's like I can see his smile and hear his voice in the same way I heard it for days on end after Faith was born saying "she's so beautiful." Or see him sit back in his chair with arms crossed in satisfaction at Caleb when he makes something amazing with his legos. I can almost hear his amusement when I get a belly laugh out of Carter. Somehow, my chest sticks out a little farther to take pride in them for the both of us.

I've often wondered what purpose Carter was to serve in my life, having never had the chance to meet his daddy face-to-face, and then had to come into the world with a mother who was broken hearted and didn't have a clue how to put one foot in front of the other. I often call him the boy who saved my life because he literally forced me keep going, not for myself but for him, because he depended on me for survival. But I questioned God's purpose in his birth so many times, because it was so painful to endure. Then, the other day when I was having a bad day, upset on the couch, he came and brought me a blanket and pillow and even brought me an ice pack (cause he thought I was hurt) and then laid with me and patted me with his tiny little hands chanting "it's ok mama"........this guy just turned two. What kind of 2 year old has the sense to take care of his mama like that? It's like he knows. He's my protector. And suddenly I got the sense that maybe he sees me through Jeremy's eyes sometimes too.

I know my children's futures have unending potential, but I think maybe part of their purpose in this world was to show me how to see more of the world through Jeremy's eyes and to recognize how Jeremy saw me. What a gift that truly is.

I continue to remind myself to stop and look at the world through his eyes, not only to keep him close to me but also to feel the passion for the things he loved....which just so happen to include the people I love. Sometimes, the change of perspective is all I need to remind me to keep going.

One Year Older ......

                                                              source

...... or not.

Monday was Jim's birthday.  He wasn't here, of course, but it was still his birthday.
I wonder if anyone else remembered?

I almost forgot ...... for a while.
I mean, I knew it was coming ..... I always know that it's coming.
But last week I was in the middle of moving to NYC (part time) and in all of the flurry I didn't think about it while I was there ...... until Saturday.  When a widow friend, our kids, and I were walking around the city, talking about big dates ...... like birthdays.  (And no, B, that was not a bad thing. :)
And then it surprised me to remember that his was just a couple of days away.

I imagine that most of you, being newer on this road than I am, cannot imagine this.  I also imagine that you won't like reading it.  I get that.  I understand that you cannot, for the life of you, think there will ever be a time when your every thought will not be of your loved one.
And that you never want to not think of him/her.
I really do get that.
And I remember feeling/thinking those exact same feelings/thoughts.
Just try to bear with me.
Please.

I also wonder if some widows/widowers would feel guilty for "forgetting" for a while?  Maybe earlier on this road I would've.
But not today.  Not now.  I refuse to let those negative emotions even rear their head around me.
And even if you can't imagine feeling this way,  I think that "forgetting" ...... for just a while ...... is a good thing.  I think that means that I really am moving forward and enjoying life more.
That in no way means that I'm leaving him behind, but it does mean that he, and his death, don't consume my every moment, my every breath, and my every thought ...... the way they used to.
Five, four or even three years ago I could not imagine this ...... but for that I am very, very grateful.

What's more ...... when I'm in NY I think about him, and his death, far less than I do when I'm here, at home.  It's like a completely different existence ...... where there are no closets, no books, or no garage that hold concrete reminders of him ...... and his absence.
That may sound horrible to a widow who's new on this road ...... because she doesn't want to stop thinking about her husband.  But after 5 years of more pain than good, I have to say that feeling good definitely outweighs feeling all of that pain.  Calm waters vs. the constant tsunamis that threatened to constantly drown me ...... are a welcomed experience.
Besides, it's not forgetting.
It's moving forward.

He's in my heart.
He's in my children.
He's in our memories.
He can never be forgotten.
Or left behind.

He can only be carried with us.

Happy Birthday, Honey.
I miss you more than one would think possible ...... and love you more than that.

Back in the anger stage

The heart volcano my nephew drew for me.

Yesterday was Seth’s 34th birthday.
Or would have been, I guess.

Yesterday as I was slowly waking from my sleep, I heard crying.
As I slowly open my eyes, the tears were flowing, and realize the crying I heard was me.

It’s not the first time I have woke myself up crying. But it also hasn't happened for a while, so I was caught off guard.

I sat up in bed, wondering “What the hell is wrong with me??”

My mind slowly and gently reminded me that it was Seth’s birthday. And he is still dead.

His birthday is a horribly rough day. All I want to do is make him nachos, buy him his favorite beer, and do whatever his lil heart desires.
But I can’t.

I normally release balloons to Seth on his birthday. This year would have been 34 balloons.
But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
I thought – he doesn't see it, so it doesn't even matter.

After some thought, I realized - I am angry.
I am back in the anger stage, for the billionth time.

I am pissed as shit that my husband isn't here. I am pissed that he took his own life.
I am pissed that I had to face my birthday, Thanksgiving and his birthday, without him here.

A friend told me to be strong. I thought about it, and thought to myself “Forget that, I am done being strong. Today I am going to be pissed and weak. After all, I deserve that”.

I can only be strong and not angry for so long before I crumble under the pressure.
Sometimes I am too weak to be strong any longer.
Sometimes I am too mad to tell myself to calm down.

It’s ok to allow myself to be weak. It’s ok to allow myself to be angry. Angry with Seth. Angry with God. Angry with the life that I didn't sign up for.

Thanksgiving came and went, with few grief moments.

As I was getting ready for my family to come over, I found myself grieving over doing the shopping and cleaning alone.

Everything now seems so much harder. The shopping and cleaning seems extremely hard now.

I’m not sure if it’s because I do it alone or if it’s reminder of being alone.

The things that were so simple in the “before” life are like pulling out my own teeth now.

I got to babysit my nephew and niece overnight on Thanksgiving night, so my brother could go black Friday shopping.

The kids and I were laying on the floor and coloring.

My nephew suddenly says “I’m glad you don’t live in the old house anymore”.

I was completely caught off guard. While trying to control the lump in my throat and preparing myself for the answer, I asked “Why?”

He says “Because the old house was scary”.

I fought back tears and had to excuse myself to gather my feelings.

My nephew doesn't remember Uncle Seth.

I was pretty shocked that he remembered “the old house”, let alone brought it up.

Especially since I just passed the one year anniversary in the new house.

It was pretty shocking to hear my nephew say the old house was scary.

I thought the fear I felt in our house, was my fear alone.

Little did I know that my 5 year old nephew was scared of it too.

I loved watching my niece and nephew.
They are so fun.

They also remind me how simple life really is.

How I need to slow down, and enjoy the simple things in life.

The simple, teeny, tiny things.

Such as coloring, snuggling and laughing.

My nephew also reminded me to follow my heart.

That my fear was not mine alone, and if I am consistently scared, to make changes to soothe myself.

After all, at end of the day, the only person to comfort me, is me.

My Birthday + Halloween = Life Insurance

Halloween 2004, two months after we got engaged

Today is my 32^nd birthday.

Its official, my birthday is the hardest event or holiday I go through without Seth.

Seth’s birthday is on the 24^th, so we always did a big, combined party.

It’s my 3^rd birthday without my husband.

My friends and family threw me an amazing party at my favorite bar.

The bar Seth and I always celebrated both of our parties at.

And even with it being my 3^rd birthday without Seth, I still expected to walk into the bar, and see his smiling face.

I walked into the bar, and was smacked with the reality, all over again, that my husband is dead.

He’s not here to celebrate with me.

I can’t throw him a huge party and spoil him with his favorite candy and beer.

Seth was always 2 years and 20 days older than me.

I am now 1 year older than him.

It’s so weird when I think about Seth’s age. He will always be 31 years old.

And I will always get older with each passing year.

We got our first snow fall in Utah. I walked outside at 6am, saw the snow, breathed in the cold air and let out a huge sigh of relief.

I have never been so happy to see snow and winter.

Summer was always my favorite time of year. Seth and I were always off doing something. Camping, backpacking, boating, playing at the lake for days.

Now summer is the hardest, most depressing time for me. Everything about summer reminds me of Seth. Reminds me of the times lost.

Winter has now become my favorite time of year. I guess it’s because I don’t have to deal with the death date, going camping without Seth, going to summer parties without him.

Winter doesn't remind me a whole lot of Seth. Sure, Christmas and Thanksgiving does, but nothing like summer time.

Halloween got me thinking about all the people that have passed. It got me thinking about what’s left in the wake of someone’s death.

It got me thinking about life insurance, and how badly I struggle financially.

I know what you are thinking. “Oh, I have $20k” in life insurance, we are fine!”

“We are too young to worry about life insurance”.

You are wrong. Dead wrong.

If you are married or have children, you need life insurance. And far more than $20k.

Please check your policies. Most of them have a suicide, drug or alcohol rider on them. Seth’s did.

Even if you think you or your loved one won’t die from suicide, drugs or alcohol, I would have your policy reviewed and possibly get a new one.

When I took out the policy on Seth, I didn't expect his death to be suicide. I also didn't think I would be widowed at 29 years old.

I never thought I would find myself in a position where when people ask me what I want for my birthday, I say “food”.

It was embarrassing and heart breaking. Despite my best efforts, financially, it’s a juggling act.

I wasn't prepared for a pipe to break and flood my neighbor’s basement. Leaving me scrapping together any cash I can find.

Looking back, I wish I knew. I wish I knew I would REALLY need that life insurance policy. I wish I wasn't naive enough to think that $20k was enough and that I wouldn't need that money any time soon.

Boy could I use that money now!

Please don’t leave your spouse or children in a position of where they have to ask for food as their birthday present.

Please.

Facing my birthday without my husband, scraping together money I don’t have to fix my neighbors basement, and having to ask for food for my birthday, add it all on top of each other, and it was a lot more then I could handle.

I have been in tears all week. Waiting for my party to arrive. The anticipation of knowing Seth wouldn't be there was extreme.

Knowing I would be walking into a party with friends and family, showing me pure love, but knowing the one person I wanted to see most, wouldn't be there.

Another birthday passed without my love.

Another night of fully enjoying myself, only to come home to an empty house and bed.

I have learned the difference between feeling alone and being alone.

The tough days

Birthday Candles (Photo credit: Chealion)

Tomorrow is Miss K's birthday.
She will turn 10 years old.
I can't believe she is already in double digits as I swear I only gave birth to her two years ago.

Except I didn't.

Two years ago was when I became both mother and father to Miss K and her younger brother.

Of all the wounds of widowhood, grieving for my father-less children has been the hardest.

Miss K was 7 and a half when Greg died.  Mr H was 5 and a half. 
Too young to have lost their father.

For the most part, they cope OK - much better than I could have dreamt of two years ago.

But that may be due to them being oblivious to the loss which is blindingly obvious to me: they simply don't know any different whereas I know what Should Have Been.




Recently, H asked me: "Did my Daddy like riding his bike as much as I do?" 
"Of course he did - don't you remember him riding along beside you on the bike track?"
"Not really Mum.  I don't remember him that well."

That kills me.
KILLS me.
This beautiful baby boy of mine does not remember the tower of love that was his father.

His memories come from photographs and half-remembered dream-like moments from his first 5.5 years of life.

This is despite me talking about Greg All The Time.
Making and reading memory books All The Time.
Telling them stories about their Dad All The Time (you get the picture).

But nothing replaces having a Dad who is right there with you.

Miss K remembers more about her Dad, but then, she was older when he died. 
Certain things are etched in her memory.
Most of them are good, but some of them are for the times she was "naughty"..... she was cranky that last morning and she has that memory burnt into her brain. 


....and I feel sad for all the things that he is missing.
Does he know that our beautiful nearly-10-year-old girl is growing up? 
Does he know how clever she is? 
How beautiful?

Does he see that our boy has his engineering brain? 
Does he know how proud his son is of his perfect hero of a father? (in H's mind, his father is the greatest superhero ever).
Does he hear him tell anyone who will listen that he will grow up "Just Like My Dad"?

I'm guessing that he does..... after all, what  is heaven if not to be able to see your loved ones .... at least that's my idea of heaven.

But this coming week of birthdays (H's is the following Monday) is tough .... for me more than them I think... they are young enough to only dream of presents and cake and not dwell on Who Is Missing. 
But me - I've lost the person who can remember the moments after they were born and who loved them as much as I do.
The memories are now only mine.
There is no eye I can catch and know that we are sharing the same memory of birthdays past, or the perfect pinkness of their newborn faces.  Nobody to remember the exact tone of their one-year-old voices stringing sentences together.  Nobody to marvel with at just how amazing they are....

....and it hurts.

But I smile and wrap presents and make preparations to make this a happy birthday for each of them. 
....and I hope that when I tell them that their Daddy is here too, looking over their shoulders and giving them big birthday hugs that they can feel the certainty in my words and know he is really there.

Aging Gratefully

I am filling in for Jackie today because her computer is in the shop...but she will be back next week!

 Today is my birthday. I am 42 years old, three years older than Phil was when he died six years ago (crazy to think he would be 46 right now!). My first birthday without him I remember wishing time could just stand still. I didn't want to age without him;I didn't want to celebrate being alive with birthday songs and presents; and I didn't want to continue on a forward path that moved away from the life I loved with Phil. Overall, December 29, 2005 was not my best birthday.

Truthfully, finding a way to appreciate the opportunity to live another year took some time. I moved from being down right pissed off about my repeating birthdays to being a bit ambivalent about the passing of time to finally accepting the fact that until my number is called my job is to seize the day.

Seizing the day is a broad concept that, for me, includes both taking as many opportunities for adventures as possible, and also taking time to cuddle a baby without looking at the clock. When I am living my best life I say what I mean, and I follow those words with actions. Making the most of the time I am given is a goal that is never far from my mind, and is firmly planted in my heart, because I know that one person can make a difference. Phil taught me that. But I didn't know how huge his influence on me was, until it was too late to tell him. I try to remember that the words I use may become an enduring memory for someone I care about, and I try very hard to speak words of both praise and gratitude. I may have only one chance to utter them. Time is something I no longer take for granted.

In fact, time is now something I relish in ways large and small...I love giggling with my kids, and running with good friends. I've discovered that Alaska has rain forests, and that Texas is actually huge. I've both cried, and laughed uproariously, with widowed people from all walks of life. I've witnessed both births and deaths and found them both to be an amazing honor. Over the past six years I walked on beaches on the opposite side of the earth from my home, hiked in majestic mountains, and looked over my shoulder for bears while trekking through the above mentioned rain forests. I spent New Year's Eve in New York City, and have driven alone on country roads from Ohio to Indiana. I've walked with friends through cancer, divorce, the loss of a home, and the pain of losing a baby. I have not been just an observer of life, I have rolled my sleeves up and jumped in with two feet time and time again. Because life is short. You and I know that better than most. So now I choose not to waste a single day that I could be making a difference.

President Abraham Lincoln suffered through the deaths of three of his four children, and was well known to be prone to depression. Having come through one particularly dark period, a good friend told Mr. Lincoln that he had been afraid his despair would swallow him whole. President Lincoln responded:

"I have an irrepressible desire to live until I can be assured that the world is a little better for my having lived in it."

Cheers to another year full of opportunities to improve the world, one small bit at a time.



**If you believe that Widow's Voice, and the programs of Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation, have made a difference for you, we'd be honored if you would consider us for a tax-deductible, year-end donation of any amount. SSLF is a non-profit organization that creates and maintains communities for widowed people around the world. We believe in the power of shared experience to heal, to inspire, and to lead the way to a hope filled future for widowed people everywhere. Thank you for sharing your widowed journey with us all year long. Donate now in support of SSLF. We are so grateful for the many ways in which you all support our mission.

more birthday

two saturdays ago,

a whole bunch

of people

came together to

celebrate madeline’s

first birthday.




her actual birthday was

on march 24,

but this was the

first time we could

get (almost) everyone together

many of our

family members flew in

(two even drove from the mn)

and a lot

of madeline’s friends

showed up.

it was an

amazing day

for the humans.

in that backyard

that sold

liz

on the house,

we celebrated all

that is good

in our lives

even though we

were missing

the one person

who would have

had the biggest smile.