Oh.Yeah.Right.

When I became a (very unexpected) widow, I wasn't really sure where to turn.  My daddy passed away 5 years ago, but the circumstances were quite different.  He was sick.  Very, very sick.  We didn't want to admit it to ourselves, but we all knew it was just a matter of time.  We had the time to have conversations with him.  Tell him how much we love him.  Thank him for being the best daddy anyone can ask for.  My brother and I were also adults.  We were devastated, but we had time to prepare ourselves mentally.  I didn't have this "luxury".  I was married to a man that barely ever got a cold.  I would always be walking around with the latest virus, and he had the most amazing immune system.  He never called in sick from work.  I was POSITIVE he would definitely out live me.  I was the one with the chronic back problems, asthma, etc.

When Rick left for work on April 1st, he mentioned that he wouldn't be calling me like he usually did on his lunch break because he was having a goodbye business luncheon for a co-worker that was moving on to another company.  He would call me as he was leaving work.  Okay.  Have a fun lunch.  So when I saw his cell phone number on the caller ID during his lunchtime, I figured he snuck away to check up on Lucas and I.  Boy, was I wrong.  He sounded a little off, but not terribly so.  He told me that he wasn't feeling well, and his boss was taking him to urgent care.  I thought to myself "this man is finally getting a cold".  Oh how I wish.  I will go into the entire phone call that will haunt me for the rest of my life at another time.  Let's just say, by the end of the call, he told me he was scared, and that "you better come".  I started heading to the Chanhassen urgent care where he told me he was going to be, only to end up speaking to his boss who told me he was being rushed to HCMC.  Never in my worst nightmares could I possibly imagine that before I even made it into Minneapolis, he was brain dead.  This couldn't be happening to me.  Not to me.  Not to Lucas.  Not to us.  NO. But, here it was.  Happening to me.  Happening to Lucas.  Happening to us.  I felt like I literally got run over by a Mack truck.  I didn't get to say goodbye.  I didn't get to thank him for making my life SO very happy.  I didn't get to tell him what a wonderful daddy he was.  I didn't get to tell him how much I loved him.  I told him anyway.  I stood over the man that I dreamed of marrying when I was a little girl, and knowing that he was brain dead and in a coma, I told him everything.  I hope somehow, someway he heard me.  I was numb.  I couldn't feel any part of my body.  I waited so long for him.  How could God do this to me!

Getting back on topic, I found myself staring at my ceiling at 3:00 in the morning a few nights after Rick died.  Who can understand the ugly things going through my mind?  I grabbed the IPad and googled "young widows".  I was shocked.  There were so many online support groups and websites.  Oh.My.God.  How many people are going through this pain.  As it turns out, the answer to that is way too many.  Even one would be too many but from what I saw, it's in the hundreds of thousands.  The young widowed community are fiercely loyal to each other, always there for each other. Mostly though, we are clinging to each other like we are each a miniature life boat.  I've blogged about these amazing women, so I won't go into detail again, but you get to know certain widdas (as we like to be called, because widow is far too painful) better than others, and you become their friends on Facebook.  I am proud to call many widdas my friend.  Yesterday, one of my Facebook widdas posted something that made my heart skip a beat.  A very simple post.  Some widdas have taken on the "positive" role of we can get through this! (happy face, hugs, heart, blah, blah)  Some have really cried out for help  big time (Why am I still alive, I don't want to go on....) but most are somewhere in between.  I love them all.  After all, as I learned, grief is very different for each person.  There is no wrong way to grieve, there is no right way to grieve.  What I try to do. is be there in whatever capacity an individual widda needs me in.  I laugh with some, I cry with some.  My emotions are a literal rollercoaster.  I will tell you one thing, we ALL develop a very warped sense of humor.  Sometimes it's about death.  It makes "outsiders" very uncomfortable.  I for one own and WEAR a tee-shirt that in very beautiful cursive, plainly says death sucks.  My brother asks me if I really have to wear that in public.  I laugh, and tell him to stop being so damn embarrased of me, but I always embarrass him, so what the hell, right??

Back to this very simple Facebook post.  This is what she wrote (though I don't remember the exact wording).

Hey Hun,
We're out of milk, and I'm so tired.
Can you stop at the store and pick some up?
Oh.Yeah.Right.

Most of you reading this are going to say huh? This is what made your heart skip a beat, and tears pour out of your eyes??

Yes.  In four small lines of text, she has summed up our lives.  We are alone.  We no longer have our other half to run to the store, to help with the chores, to be a parent to our children.  How many times have I called Rick at work to ask him to run to Costco on his way home.  Taking it for granted that I didn't have to drag the baby from home to car to store to car to home.  How many times since he passed away have I almost picked up the phone to call him to tell him something and then realized.......

Oh.Yeah.Right.

Rest well baby doll.  I love you for eternity.

Forging on.........

Hi all. It's been a long time since my last blog post. I foolishly allowed somebody to silence my voice. As I grow a teensy bit stronger day by day ( and fortified with Zoloft) I realize just how wrong it was for said person to want to silence me, and how wrong it was that I let it happen.

You see, a friend of a "friend" didn't care for one of my posts and publicly called me a bitch on Facebook. This person then "dared" me to write a blog and use their name in it. I won't give them that satisfaction. Let's just say that this person owns a business and probably wanted some advertising. Said person also believes in "happily ever afters" and should have been a little sensitive to my situation. A bitch. I was highly offended, but what is a bitch anyway? A female dog? This is what I got offended about? After all, I don't know this person. Sadly, they are polluting the state that I used to call home with their presence. The positive of this being they.Don't.Live.Here.

I will never be silenced again.

I started this blog to help others as much as to help myself. This blog is part of my heart, and my son's legacy. It is part love story, part fairytale, part tragedy, part humor. It is frank and honest. It is NOT a happy ending as much as I wanted it to be. The words come from my soul. Who would want to silence that?

So I'm forging on. I will add a small disclaimer.

*This blog will never mention anybody by name unless I have their full approval. If you want to assume that I am speaking about you, that is your assumption. Chances are, I'm not. Even if I am, nobody will know unless you freak out and start telling people. I am an adult, and if any of my readers have a problem with what I write, you can come directly to me with your issue. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, and certainly do NOT have your friends do your dirty work for you. After what I've been through, that's laughable. I never have, and never will intentionally hurt anybody. I'm sorry if you do get hurt. I've been so hurt, and it's not a good feeling. If I do hurt you, I'm terribly sorry. Please see above sentence about approaching me.

End of disclaimer.

It has been 9 months since the love of my life went to heaven. Something that should have never happened at the age of 40. Not to me. Especially not to Lucas. Lucas's therapists are teaching him to label pictures. I gave them a picture of Rick. Every time they show him the picture and say "dad" my heart tears a little more. Dad shouldn't be a picture. Dad should be the love of my life, walking in the door after work. Throwing Lucas up in the air. I should be hearing fits of laughter coming from both of them while I set the table for us. This is what life should have been. This is what life is not. Dad is a picture. My heart aches for what we lost.

As unbearable as it seems to me, I'm forging on.

Rest well baby doll. I love you.