I couldn't sleep the other night (big surprise!) so I looking at random things on the Internet. I came across this article and her story really struck a chord with me. I found so many similarities in her story and mine. When the doctors told me that even if S survived, he wouldn't be the same I told them over and over that I didn't care. I would take him any way I could have him. I just wanted him. Now, obviously, our stories ended differently, but in a way her husband died too. He wasn't the same man. He wasn't the man she married anymore. She still loved him, but he was different. I still love S. I will always love S. Nothing that happens after his death will change that. Nothing.
I know people judge her for her decision to marry Allan. 7 months ago I would have judged her for her decision to get married. But now I understand. I am sure it was not a choice she came to lightly.
I also know that people judge me for my choice to move and because I fell in love again. I also feel like it needs to be said (again) that I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't looking for a relationship. I wasn't looking for a man. I wasn't looking for anything, but sometimes the powers that be have plans that we don't understand.
After S died, I was at the funeral home picking out his urn. His friend was with me and asked if two people could fit in the urn I liked. The funeral man said no. Then, he looked at me, and said "but you're young. Don't write off anything. You never know what will happen." I looked back at him and I said "I will NEVER love like this again. I will NEVER get married again. NEVER."
And I meant it. I couldn't imagine loving another man. I couldn't fathom ever feeling that way again.
A few weeks after S died, I called M to tell him. A bit after we got off the phone, he sent me a text message. It said something like "I'll always take care of you" or something like that. My girlfriends and I spent time the next morning trying to figure out what that meant. Did he mean that in a friendly way or was it more than that. I told them that if he meant that in any way other than just friendly it was not okay in my book. I was not interested in anything more than a platonic relationship with him.
But things changed. My feelings changed. My thoughts changed. It got different and at some point I realized that my feelings for him were not platonic anymore
I know this all happened very fast, but I have known M for 14+ years. I fell in love with him 14 years ago and I think that is why this happened so fast. Some of the feelings were already there. Now, that does not mean that there was anything going on between us when S was alive, because there wasn't (and apparently that needs to be said too. I was NOT having any sort of anything with M while S was alive. Nothing. And those who think otherwise clearly really don't know me at all). It simply means that when you truly love someone you never stop.
This move is scary. Picking up my life and moving it half-way across the country makes me totally nervous, but when I think about it, it is the moving part that is scary to me. I'm not worried about anything once I'm there. I am excited to be there. I am looking forward to having a life there. All of that is comfortable. It's just the physical moving all of the stuff in my house and my three kids so far that is scary. But, that is a short moment in time. 4 months from now, we will be living in a new place and I don't think I will feel scared anymore.
I am such an indecisive person. I can't even decide what shoes to wear most mornings without trying three pairs on. When I go out to eat, I always second guess what I ordered. I can't make a decision for anything. Except when I decided to move. I haven't questioned that choice for a second. It feels right in my heart and in my head.
Just like Page brought Robert with her when she moved, we are bringing S with us. He will always we a part of my family. My kids will always know about him and that he was their daddy and how much he loved them. I remind them now, and will continue to do so, of how they are like him.
V is so stubborn and he loves to put things together, just like S. M is a crankpot in the morning and she has the funniest little sense of humor that I know she inherited from S. G doesn't give big belly laughs often, but when she does, they fill the whole room, just like her daddy's.
S will always have a place in my family. And I am thankful that M is not only understanding of that, but encouraging about it. He wants my kids to know all about S and to see pictures of him and to heart stories about him.
After S died, I couldn't see myself ever being truly happy again. I didn't believe happiness would happen for me again, but I find myself happy now. I look forward to my evening talks with M and I am so looking forward to this move. I know it is the right thing for us.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
meeting the man who killed him
Tonight, I met the man who killed S. I shook his hand. I looked him in the eyes and thanked him for meeting with me. I sat across the table from him and listened to his story. I asked him questions. I showed him pictures. I looked him in the eyes and told him I wasn't mad at him. I offered him forgiveness.
I wanted to meet the man who killed S a long time ago. I tried to call him a few weeks after S died, but the phone number on the police report was not a good one. I had questions for him and I wanted them answered. I told the DA I wanted to meet with him. I wanted that to be part of his plea agreement.
So, tonight, S's best friend M and I went to the man's attorney's office and talked with him. I was really nervous, but I came armed with a list of questions for him and some pictures of S. We walked in and met and shook hands with the man and his son. It was very natural. Then we sat down and the attorneys (ours and his) said that they were basically going to sit quietly and just let us talk.
I started by telling him that I am not mad at him. I told him I have never been mad at him. I told him I knew it was an accident. He looked relieved when I said that to him. He apologized for killing my husband. He said it was an accident. He told me he thinks about S every morning when he wakes up and every night before he goes to bed. I am sure I looked relieved when he said that.
He seems like a decent man. He seems like a good person. He seemed honestly sorry about what happened. He told me he wishes he could switch places with S. I honestly believe him.
I had a few questions I really wanted answers to. I had one question I wanted a particular answer to.
I wanted to know when he saw S. He didn't until he hit. S hit the man's van right on the front tire. The van was totalled. He wasn't sure how he fell off the bike, but he said that S was laying on his back and the bike was next to him. He said his 13 year old grandson was in the front seat and screamed at him to stop, but it was too late.
I asked him if he went to S. If he tried to comfort him. If he told him help was coming. If he did anything. I wanted so badly for him to tell me that he ran to S. That he told him he was sorry. That he tried to offer him some comfort.
But he didn't. He said he looked from a distance to make sure he was breathing (which he was) because he said that was the most important thing to him. He said no one went to him until the emergency crew got there. I wanted so badly for him to tell me that S wasn't alone. I had hoped for so long that he wasn't alone in those moments. I had prayed that he wasn't alone. But he was. That makes my heart hurt for him so much more. No one was there with him. No one. (though the ADA later told me that he is fairly sure someone who called 911 went to S).
When the man told me that I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to ask him why. But I didn't. I couldn't.
Why? Because I have learned a lot over the last 7 months. I have learned not to judge people so quickly. I have learned that you really don't know what you would do in any given situation unless you have lived it and even then, you don't know for sure because you haven't lived it as that person. As much as I wanted him to tell me that he ran to S, I knew I couldn't judge him for not going to him. That wouldn't be fair.
I feel bad for him. I think both sides of the table suck in the situation. I don't envy him.
I knew that meeting him and talking with him wouldn't bring S back. I knew that it wouldn't make losing him any easier. I knew that it would be hard, but I hoped that I would feel a peace when I left. I didn't cry the whole time we were in the room with him. I wanted to and I had to fight back tears a few times, especially when I was showing him pictures of S and when he was describing what S looked like laying in the street. I didn't cry in front of him, but as soon as I left the room, standing in the lobby of the lawyer's office, I broke down. It was like all of the emotions of the day filled me and I couldn't hold it in anymore.
I don't like to cry anymore. I used to be a crier, but now, since S died, I don't like to cry. But I cried. S's friend held me and I cried on his chest. The ADA told me I was strong. I felt better after crying for a few minutes, but I didn't feel peace.
In the car on the way home, I told S's friend that I didn't feel at peace at all. Not even a little. I was pretty disappointed in all of it. It wasn't anyone's fault really that I was disappointed, but I just wanted to badly for him to answer my questions the way I wanted them answered. I think that would have given me that peace. But that wasn't the case.
Still, I am glad I met with him. I am glad I have the answers, even if they aren't the ones I wanted to hear. I think the meeting brought him some peace as well. He said he worried that I was mad at him or that I was going to sue him. I hope knows that I am not helps him to sleep a little easier tonight.
His wife passed away in 2004. He knows what it is to lose a spouse. I know he is sorry and for that I am thankful.
I wanted to meet the man who killed S a long time ago. I tried to call him a few weeks after S died, but the phone number on the police report was not a good one. I had questions for him and I wanted them answered. I told the DA I wanted to meet with him. I wanted that to be part of his plea agreement.
So, tonight, S's best friend M and I went to the man's attorney's office and talked with him. I was really nervous, but I came armed with a list of questions for him and some pictures of S. We walked in and met and shook hands with the man and his son. It was very natural. Then we sat down and the attorneys (ours and his) said that they were basically going to sit quietly and just let us talk.
I started by telling him that I am not mad at him. I told him I have never been mad at him. I told him I knew it was an accident. He looked relieved when I said that to him. He apologized for killing my husband. He said it was an accident. He told me he thinks about S every morning when he wakes up and every night before he goes to bed. I am sure I looked relieved when he said that.
He seems like a decent man. He seems like a good person. He seemed honestly sorry about what happened. He told me he wishes he could switch places with S. I honestly believe him.
I had a few questions I really wanted answers to. I had one question I wanted a particular answer to.
I wanted to know when he saw S. He didn't until he hit. S hit the man's van right on the front tire. The van was totalled. He wasn't sure how he fell off the bike, but he said that S was laying on his back and the bike was next to him. He said his 13 year old grandson was in the front seat and screamed at him to stop, but it was too late.
I asked him if he went to S. If he tried to comfort him. If he told him help was coming. If he did anything. I wanted so badly for him to tell me that he ran to S. That he told him he was sorry. That he tried to offer him some comfort.
But he didn't. He said he looked from a distance to make sure he was breathing (which he was) because he said that was the most important thing to him. He said no one went to him until the emergency crew got there. I wanted so badly for him to tell me that S wasn't alone. I had hoped for so long that he wasn't alone in those moments. I had prayed that he wasn't alone. But he was. That makes my heart hurt for him so much more. No one was there with him. No one. (though the ADA later told me that he is fairly sure someone who called 911 went to S).
When the man told me that I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to ask him why. But I didn't. I couldn't.
Why? Because I have learned a lot over the last 7 months. I have learned not to judge people so quickly. I have learned that you really don't know what you would do in any given situation unless you have lived it and even then, you don't know for sure because you haven't lived it as that person. As much as I wanted him to tell me that he ran to S, I knew I couldn't judge him for not going to him. That wouldn't be fair.
I feel bad for him. I think both sides of the table suck in the situation. I don't envy him.
I knew that meeting him and talking with him wouldn't bring S back. I knew that it wouldn't make losing him any easier. I knew that it would be hard, but I hoped that I would feel a peace when I left. I didn't cry the whole time we were in the room with him. I wanted to and I had to fight back tears a few times, especially when I was showing him pictures of S and when he was describing what S looked like laying in the street. I didn't cry in front of him, but as soon as I left the room, standing in the lobby of the lawyer's office, I broke down. It was like all of the emotions of the day filled me and I couldn't hold it in anymore.
I don't like to cry anymore. I used to be a crier, but now, since S died, I don't like to cry. But I cried. S's friend held me and I cried on his chest. The ADA told me I was strong. I felt better after crying for a few minutes, but I didn't feel peace.
In the car on the way home, I told S's friend that I didn't feel at peace at all. Not even a little. I was pretty disappointed in all of it. It wasn't anyone's fault really that I was disappointed, but I just wanted to badly for him to answer my questions the way I wanted them answered. I think that would have given me that peace. But that wasn't the case.
Still, I am glad I met with him. I am glad I have the answers, even if they aren't the ones I wanted to hear. I think the meeting brought him some peace as well. He said he worried that I was mad at him or that I was going to sue him. I hope knows that I am not helps him to sleep a little easier tonight.
His wife passed away in 2004. He knows what it is to lose a spouse. I know he is sorry and for that I am thankful.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
he remembers!
One of my greatest fears is that my kids won't remember S. I know that G won't remember him. If he were to walk in the door right now, she would have no idea who he was. It breaks my heart. I feel like V and M have at least a shot at remembering their Daddy though. I ask them about him a lot and lately I have been trying to get them to tell me what they remember about their Daddy. All V would say for t he longest time was that remembers him and that he remembers him pooping. Yes, pooping. V is going through a stage where poop is the coolest thing ever. Ugh. Anyway, M just mimics her brother so it was getting no where.
Then, the other day, I decided to ask them if they remembered specific things instead of leaving the questions so open ended. I asked V if he remembered making pizza with Daddy. He said yes. Then I asked him what the weather was like when they made the pizza (it was a blizzard and S stayed home from work). He said he didn't know. I was so disappointed. He didn't really remember making the pizza. Then, he went on to say that Daddy used the rolling pin, but wouldn't let him use it. But he let him punch the pizza dough. He remembered! He remembers little bits of his Daddy. I so hope he is able to keep those memories.
I have a terrible memory. I really do. But S had a good one. He remembered all sorts of things. V is like his Daddy in that sense I think. He remembers things I have forgotten. I hope he stays that way.
Then, the other day, I decided to ask them if they remembered specific things instead of leaving the questions so open ended. I asked V if he remembered making pizza with Daddy. He said yes. Then I asked him what the weather was like when they made the pizza (it was a blizzard and S stayed home from work). He said he didn't know. I was so disappointed. He didn't really remember making the pizza. Then, he went on to say that Daddy used the rolling pin, but wouldn't let him use it. But he let him punch the pizza dough. He remembered! He remembers little bits of his Daddy. I so hope he is able to keep those memories.
I have a terrible memory. I really do. But S had a good one. He remembered all sorts of things. V is like his Daddy in that sense I think. He remembers things I have forgotten. I hope he stays that way.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
my love story
the love story of my life really starts way back in 7th grade. I started "going out" with a guy who was a jerk. He was abusive and controlling, and it was really hard to get away from him. When I did, I felt free and I swore I would never let a boy treat me like that again. I knew I deserved better.
And then I met M. I went to a friend's house and she was talking to three boys on AOL (yes, this was way back in the day of AOL instant messenger). She had met these three boys when she was visiting her dad. I started talking to them online too and they eventually called us. I felt an instant connection to M.
A few weeks later, we arranged to meet at the mall. I remember the first time I saw him. He was standing in front of a raised garden, wearing big baggy JNCO jeans, a big baggy t-shirt, he had big earrings and long hair. I thought to my self "I am going to marry him one day." I was 14 years old and about to start my freshman year of high school.
He and I started "going out" (as much as you can when you live 45 minutes from someone at 14). We talked on the phone nearly every day and we saw each other on weekends. He was such a sweet guy. He would call me and ask me what I did that day (just being friendly) and I would shoot back with "none of your business." I was so afraid of being controlled like my ex-boyfriend that I was terrible to him a lot of the time. He saw something special in my though and stuck by my side. He soon became my best friend.
Then my family moved to Oklahoma. He and I were devastated. Like any 15 year old kids in love, we swore we would stay together. We wrote weekly letters to each other (I still have his and they melt my heart to this day) and he came to visit me about 3 months after I moved.
Shortly after that we broke up, but stayed friends. After I graduated from high school, I went to see him for a week over the summer. When I came back, I started dating S again, and M and I stayed friends.
S and I got married, and M and I just slowly stopped talking. There was no big anything, it just sort of dissolved. I never stopped thinking about him though. I always wondered what he was doing and where he was in life. I was happily married to S, but I wondered where my friend was.
Then, in June 2009, I searched for him on facebook. I found him and sent him a message. I told him I was married with a son and another baby on the way. He told me he was getting married in the next year and I was really happy for him. We never messaged each other again and that was the end.
Then, in March 2010, he found me again and sent me a friend request. I accepted and that was that (he didn't get married). I would occasionally comment on his posts and he on mine. Then, in June 2010, he posted something that I posted on and he replied and we had a little conversation going. He sent me a message and asked me to call him.
S was outside working in the garage. I went outside and told him that M asked me to call him. I asked him if I should and he said yes. That first night we talked until the sun came up. We mostly just reminisced about high school.
S and I were not in a good place in our marriage at that time. We were fighting a lot and talking about separating. We never talked divorce, but we knew that something in our marriage had to change. He later told me that he realized how happy I was when I talked to M and it made him mad. He started being nicer to me and me to him and our marriage changed 180 degrees. The last 12 months of our marriage was by far the best.
M and I talked every couple of weeks after that and it was strictly platonic. S knew about it and it didn't bother him a bit. He knew that I was head over heels for him.
A few weeks after S died, I called M to let him know. After a few weeks, I realized that my feelings for him were changing. I never stopped loving him (because I beleive that if you truly love someone, you never ever stop loving them), but I thought I might be falling in love with him again.
I wasn't looking for a relationship. I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't looking for anything, but it started happening.
Before I went to bed, I would tell S how much I loved him and I started asking him to help me figure out my feelings. One night I told him that I was having feelings for M and asked him what I should do. That night I had 2 dreams (I haven't had more than a few dreams since S died). Those two dreams were basically S telling me that he had laid all this out for me and I was a fool if I didn't just let it happen.
So, M and I kept talking. And we talked more and more. And our feelings got stronger and stronger.
He came to visit me a couple of weeks ago. At the end of his visit, we knew that one of us was moving.
After he left, my heart physically hurt that he was gone. We talked about it at length, and decided that it just makes more sense for me to move to him, so we are moving.
I know this seems totally fast and totally crazy, but I have loved him since I was 14. Still, my love for him does not change the love I had/have for S. I sort of describe it like I do my love for my kids. I loved V when he was born. And when M was born, I loved her too. But my love for her didn't change my love for him. I love them both. It is sort of the same thing with S and M.
It just feels right with M. My heart tells me this is where I should be. I learned a lot from S's life and his death. I know now how short life is and I don't want to waste time wishing I was somewhere else with someone when I can be. I really feel like this is what S would want for me and for the kids. I know how much he loved us all and I know that he would want us to have happiness.
We are all so excited for this new chapter in our lives!
And then I met M. I went to a friend's house and she was talking to three boys on AOL (yes, this was way back in the day of AOL instant messenger). She had met these three boys when she was visiting her dad. I started talking to them online too and they eventually called us. I felt an instant connection to M.
A few weeks later, we arranged to meet at the mall. I remember the first time I saw him. He was standing in front of a raised garden, wearing big baggy JNCO jeans, a big baggy t-shirt, he had big earrings and long hair. I thought to my self "I am going to marry him one day." I was 14 years old and about to start my freshman year of high school.
He and I started "going out" (as much as you can when you live 45 minutes from someone at 14). We talked on the phone nearly every day and we saw each other on weekends. He was such a sweet guy. He would call me and ask me what I did that day (just being friendly) and I would shoot back with "none of your business." I was so afraid of being controlled like my ex-boyfriend that I was terrible to him a lot of the time. He saw something special in my though and stuck by my side. He soon became my best friend.
Then my family moved to Oklahoma. He and I were devastated. Like any 15 year old kids in love, we swore we would stay together. We wrote weekly letters to each other (I still have his and they melt my heart to this day) and he came to visit me about 3 months after I moved.
Shortly after that we broke up, but stayed friends. After I graduated from high school, I went to see him for a week over the summer. When I came back, I started dating S again, and M and I stayed friends.
S and I got married, and M and I just slowly stopped talking. There was no big anything, it just sort of dissolved. I never stopped thinking about him though. I always wondered what he was doing and where he was in life. I was happily married to S, but I wondered where my friend was.
Then, in June 2009, I searched for him on facebook. I found him and sent him a message. I told him I was married with a son and another baby on the way. He told me he was getting married in the next year and I was really happy for him. We never messaged each other again and that was the end.
Then, in March 2010, he found me again and sent me a friend request. I accepted and that was that (he didn't get married). I would occasionally comment on his posts and he on mine. Then, in June 2010, he posted something that I posted on and he replied and we had a little conversation going. He sent me a message and asked me to call him.
S was outside working in the garage. I went outside and told him that M asked me to call him. I asked him if I should and he said yes. That first night we talked until the sun came up. We mostly just reminisced about high school.
S and I were not in a good place in our marriage at that time. We were fighting a lot and talking about separating. We never talked divorce, but we knew that something in our marriage had to change. He later told me that he realized how happy I was when I talked to M and it made him mad. He started being nicer to me and me to him and our marriage changed 180 degrees. The last 12 months of our marriage was by far the best.
M and I talked every couple of weeks after that and it was strictly platonic. S knew about it and it didn't bother him a bit. He knew that I was head over heels for him.
A few weeks after S died, I called M to let him know. After a few weeks, I realized that my feelings for him were changing. I never stopped loving him (because I beleive that if you truly love someone, you never ever stop loving them), but I thought I might be falling in love with him again.
I wasn't looking for a relationship. I wasn't looking for love. I wasn't looking for anything, but it started happening.
Before I went to bed, I would tell S how much I loved him and I started asking him to help me figure out my feelings. One night I told him that I was having feelings for M and asked him what I should do. That night I had 2 dreams (I haven't had more than a few dreams since S died). Those two dreams were basically S telling me that he had laid all this out for me and I was a fool if I didn't just let it happen.
So, M and I kept talking. And we talked more and more. And our feelings got stronger and stronger.
He came to visit me a couple of weeks ago. At the end of his visit, we knew that one of us was moving.
After he left, my heart physically hurt that he was gone. We talked about it at length, and decided that it just makes more sense for me to move to him, so we are moving.
I know this seems totally fast and totally crazy, but I have loved him since I was 14. Still, my love for him does not change the love I had/have for S. I sort of describe it like I do my love for my kids. I loved V when he was born. And when M was born, I loved her too. But my love for her didn't change my love for him. I love them both. It is sort of the same thing with S and M.
It just feels right with M. My heart tells me this is where I should be. I learned a lot from S's life and his death. I know now how short life is and I don't want to waste time wishing I was somewhere else with someone when I can be. I really feel like this is what S would want for me and for the kids. I know how much he loved us all and I know that he would want us to have happiness.
We are all so excited for this new chapter in our lives!
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
over
Yesterday marked the end of the holiday season for me. January 3rd. It would have been our 8th wedding anniversary. It was a fine day. The kids and I went to a friend's house and the kids got to play and I got to chat. It was a fun morning.
On the way home, the girls fell asleep in the car, so we let them sleep and V and I played outside. He wanted to play catch and it was so weird to me, remembering S teaching him how to throw and catch over the summer. V told me I am not very good at that game (he wasn't lying either!)
After the girls woke up, we all played outside a bit and then came in and did our normal evening routine. It really was just a fine day, but I am glad it is over.
On the way home, the girls fell asleep in the car, so we let them sleep and V and I played outside. He wanted to play catch and it was so weird to me, remembering S teaching him how to throw and catch over the summer. V told me I am not very good at that game (he wasn't lying either!)
After the girls woke up, we all played outside a bit and then came in and did our normal evening routine. It really was just a fine day, but I am glad it is over.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)