9 Months...

It takes about 9 months for a new and beautiful life to form inside a mother's womb. New beginnings, excitement and anticipation usually surround the eager parents. They cannot wait for the arrival of that first flutter; to hear the sound of a heartbeat on a sonogram monitor; to feel the first kick; to hold the first picture of the greatest blessing from God captured on that ultrasound screen; and eventually to experience the first time they meet and hold their new life in the palm of their hands.  Many first time parents read all the literature, like What to Expect When You're Expecting; they watch online videos; they do their research and are very cautious and meticulous with taking careful steps to ensure a healthy life with a new baby. 

But even after reading all that information and following the best advice, parents have to learn their way through parenthood. Things happen after you've prepped and prepped and prepped for those 9 long months, for which you can never be prepared. Babies choke on formula; you fight fevers and gas; you are exhausted beyond all measure; you find yourself placing your finger under their nose while they sleep just to check for breathing; your body aches in places you didn't know it could. You can't learn good parenting from a book; you can get advice and tips sure, but there is no one perfect way to be a parent. You develop a "normal" life that works for you and your family after only 9 months. 

It seems insane to me that 9 months ago MY life was normal, and I still struggle daily with accepting my new life that took literally a second to change. There was no being ready or prepared. I have read several widow blogs and books, but they have left me no more prepared than a new parent. There is no preparation for widowhood. And I don't care what anyone says or thinks...there is nothing "normal" about life after losing a spouse. 

It was a normal day of me cleaning in my pajamas, moving in a frenzy to get the house put back together after all the Christmas festivities. My little boy was playing with toys and watching tv, even occasionally using the bench and kitchen chairs as a fort. Nothing in my life was broken. Nothing about my day was unusual or different than most days spent at home during Christmas break. We were safe and healthy and happy, all of which are in our daily prayers. 

But in the blink of an eye and with one phone call, normal was gone. Safe, healthy and happy were obliterated. 

And here we are 9 months later. We have not developed a new "normal" because there are still so many things we've never done without Mike.  I have read and researched and read some more. I don't know any better how to muddle through widowhood than I did on day 1. And I'm betting that in 9 more months or in 9 years, I'll still be figuring life out without Mike. 

Some people might think that sounds ludicrous, but it's not.

I was happy just 9 months ago. I had my life where I'd always imagined it would be. My family was safe, healthy, happy and WHOLE. 

Can you imagine for just a moment what it would be like without your number one partner? Can you take time to actually stop, turn and look at him or her and imagine all the things you love about him or her just vanishing? Can you fathom the thought of never seeing your one true love again? Never hearing the voice that calms you in the night? Never kissing those lips that melt you? Never holding that hand that brings you comfort? 

I had never imagined those things and here I am, living them. And it is torture. It is terrible and gut wrenching and sad and lonely and ridiculous. 

I miss my husband so much that sometimes I can't even put it into words. 

BUT, I also want to tell you about the support that we still get on a daily basis, even 9 months later. This support is what is getting us through every day of this new life. 

Conner has struggled at school several days already this year. The support we have received from the school counselor, nurse and others is immeasurable. The support I have received from some of my staff members, my secretary, and my fellow administrators is immeasurable. I randomly receive texts from friends and family just checking on us, and a couple of friends message me weekly, never missing! My sister messages me all the time and emails me at work; in addition, my mom stays with us a few nights a week. The support is limitless and I'll never be able to give thanks enough. 

Today was a difficult day. Work was busy; Conner cried a few times; and I'm just worn out. But God and Mike sent me what I needed all day. 

I had one of my teachers tell me that he knew God had put me in the position of being his high school principal, a job for which he himself applied, for a reason. He told me that I am doing a great job and he knew I was put there because it was what I needed in order to focus on something other than losing Mike. 

Another teacher told me that she adores me and is so happy to come to work everyday because of the way I run our school and support my staff and students. 

A fellow administrator volunteered to supervise a ballgame so that I could have an evening off. 

Another of my teachers stopped by after our staff meeting just to check on me and see how things have been going. 

Today God put people and circumstances that I needed in my path to make it through the 9 month mark. So now, enjoy a few pictures of my life I used to love so much. 

Conner and I are making it...with the support of others and by the Grace of God. I cannot wait to tell my husband all about the wonderful people in our lives, old and new, who I know are in our lives to help us survive this. You all are awesome and loved. 

I hope by taking a look at these pictures, you are moved to tell those you love how much you love them, need them, want them, and don't know what you'd do without them. 

I love you baby and miss you with every fiber of my being. NFAxI...

#stillhis

Love, Veronica 

It's Just So Hard...

It's just so hard to find joy in very much now without Mike. 

Conner and I drove into town this morning to purchase our hunting and fishing licenses and tags; I bought us both new rubber boots (dropped a small fortune) to go gigging tonight; and after a day of being depressed and doing nothing around my house, we are now in the woods waiting the arrival of a big buck. 

Doubt it happens. It's too hot. Conner is too sad but doesn't want to admit it and I'm definitely sad and miserable. How do I find joy again in the little things that were so normal and fun for us before? 

I've just been struggling so much lately. I want to cook chili for my boys while they hunt. I want to wear my camouflage and pull up my rubber boots and stand on the front of the boat as a team with my husband. He would gig from the left side and I would gig from the right. 

I want to clean house and relax while they spent the day in and out of the woods. I want to load up the cooler and the boat and join friends for a fish fry after gigging. 

But instead I do it all alone right next to my little boy, on whom I am trying my best NOT to push my sadness. I think it's a futile attempt. 

I have always hunted and gigged, but Conner has always had his dad to hunt and gig with him. Now it's just me. And I suck at it alone. I just don't feel it. I don't feel the joy it used to bring. I don't feel the joy that anything used to bring me. 

Mike brought me joy. He brought joy to all things we did together. Please don't get me wrong and think that I'm being terrible and neglectful and unappreciative of what and who I still do have. I don't mean that at all!

My son is the ONLY one who CAN and DOES bring me joy still. The only one. He is the best thing to ever happen to me. But I can't help but see his dad in him every time I look at him and that makes me miss Mike enough for both of us. I don't just miss him for me. I miss him for all the moments that should be "normal" little moments to big huge moments in his son's life. 

And that makes me so angry and sad and lonely. It sucks. And it's just so hard. 

Every Little Thing...

The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.
The way his smile filled a room.
His chuckle that was so cute and contagious, that I teased him about it.
His hands.
Scarred from years of hard work.
Gentle when he held me.
Patient when he was showing our little boy how to do something for the first time.
The way one eye was more green than the other.
His dimples that usually were hidden by facial hair.
His random decision to shave a Fu Manchu even though I hated it.
The way he wanted to look nice for me on date night.
Date nights.
At home, or out and about...didn't matter to me.
The way he would dress in a suit and go to prom with me even though he hated it.
Slow dances in the kitchen.
Sneaking up on him to listen while he was singing to our son when he was a baby.
The raspy tone in his voice.
The way he told me I was beautiful every single day.
The way that he meant it.
How tough he was.
His strength both physically and mentally.
The way he cried when no one but me was looking.
Knowing why he cried and being the only one who did know.
His dark skin tanned by the hours he worked in the sun all year.
His work ethic.
It is unmatched.
His desire to build a life for his boys.
His love of farming.
His sometimes not so friendly, passionate vernacular when dealing with cows.
His stories.
Of his Marine Corps Days, of his Grandma Holly and Grandma Mary, of his dad.
His skills of being able to literally do anything he set his mind to.
He never failed.
His determination to succeed was amazing to watch.
His ability to learn something new and be almost an expert the second time he did it.
His math skills.
His romantic side.
The way he would come up behind me and put his arms around my waist and his chin on my shoulder.
The way he would look at me and really look AT me, loving every part of me.
When he would kiss me on the back of the neck.
When he would just hold me.
Just stand there and hold me close to him and tell me over and over how lucky he was to have me.
The way we would ride around and drink a beer and listen to old music and talk and laugh and dream.
The way that he loved me for how terrible I looked just as much as how pretty I looked.
I didn't have to fix my hair or put on makeup with him.
I didn't have to be dressed to perfection when with him.
He liked my old torn, holey farm jeans and baseball cap.
How much fun I had with him.
How much he loved me.
How much he wanted me.
How much he made me feel safe and secure.
How much we dreamed just alike.
When we would lay down and start talking and end up laughing until we had to make each other shut up and go to sleep.
The way he had special nights in the living room floor on a pallet with his sons.
His surprises.
His selflessness when it came to helping someone else.
His silly side.
The "wiggle in his walk".
His lips.
His kisses.
Holding his hand.
His compliments on the house on a day I had cleaned for two hours.
His appreciation of a good meal.
His pride when he was with his family.
His one phrase he would yell at every basketball game, "Shoot the ball!"
The way he would sit with Conner and the laptop to look at cars, guns, toys, or whatever else Conner wanted to look at.

Every little thing.

That is what I miss.

I love you and miss you more than words, baby.
NFAxI... #stillhis
Love,
Veronica

More Firsts...

Well, what I wrote of dreading a few weeks ago, has arrived.

Gigging season is upon us. Deer season will soon follow. Then Halloween, followed by Thanksgiving, then Christmas, then the one year mark.

All of these will be followed by the day we are supposed to be making New Year's resolutions, but our New Year's Day will mark one year since we sat at the cemetery on a very cold and windy day, watching Marines fold a flag, so that the love of my life could be lowered into the cold earth.

They are all ridiculous reminders of the worst time of our lives.

One thing that I hate about gigging and deer seasons is that I feel like Conner and I will be a burden to others.  I know it's probably ludicrous, but, here is why.  We always had Mike to take us.  We always had Mike to get everything ready from making sure the generator was full of gas, to the gigging lights being bright enough and on correctly.  He always made sure he got all of our hunting and fishing licenses and tags well in advance.  He always made gigging and hunting fun.  Now we don't have him. So, we will call someone to take us.  We will call our friends to ask if they have room in their boat for two more.  We will call someone if we harvest a deer. We will rely on someone else. As we have been doing for the past several months.

So, I literally got sick to my stomach today at some professional development when I realized gigging season has opened.

It is just the start to the huge snowball that is building to roll us into the worst two days we cannot forget.

I remember when Conner was young and how excited I was to take my baby trick-or-treating.  Mike went every year but two due to conferences.  Conner would get all dressed up and loved showing his daddy how cool his newest costume was.  I loved walking the streets of town with my husband and son. Tristan always went with his cousins on his mom's side of the family, so we never had all four of us, but we still made it the most fun we could.  Wanna know what my son wants to dress up as this year?  A Marine.  Like his dad was all those years ago and like Conner wants to be the second he is old enough.  It's a good thing I have another 7 years to wrap my mind around it!

But, can you see the happiness in both their faces?  It radiated from them both every day.

I just don't know how I'm going to make it through all of these upcoming seasons and holidays and maintain my sanity.  How am I NOT going to see Mike everywhere?  How am I NOT going to break down and cry at the drop of a hat?

I don't know if I have the strength.  I don't know how it will all unfold.  I dread every little bit of it all. Like something as simple as wearing some of Mike's hunting clothes like I do every year.  This year wearing them will be different.  It will be difficult.

Enjoying our time gigging or hunting, sharing meals for Thanksgiving, buying gifts for Christmas.  I am afraid I will find no joy in them. I am afraid my little boy will find no joy in them.

I am scared to death that December 29 will be a repeat of the day we lost him and that those memories, those tiny details that I still remember like they just happened seconds ago, will replay over and over and over again.  I cannot get them out of my mind.

I cannot un-see him laying there on that cold metal table, with his left arm uncovered so that his wife, his widow, could hold it.  I cannot un-see the old barnwood casket that I chose for him to be laid to rest it, or the farm scene that was embroidered on the interior cloth.  I cannot un-see the looks on visitors' faces when they walked into our home, most of them for the first time ever.  I cannot un-see the looks of pity and sorrow.  I cannot un-hear the words of a man on Mike's phone telling me my husband had passed away.  I cannot un-tell my little boy that his daddy is gone and I cannot un-see Conner fall to the gravel beside me, where I already was on my knees.

None of this is ever going to go away.  Ever.  And I'm so tired of reliving it every.single.day.  And fall and winter make those memories more vivid.  My heart has begun skipping beats again; my hands have begun shaking again; my sleep pattern has become more sporadic again.  All because I know the day is coming when he will have been gone for one full year and it does not seem possible. But it is.

I miss you and love you still baby, beyond measure.  I hope that Heaven is better than we ever imagined and that you cannot know the pain we feel without you.  You were our world.

But we will see you again some day and that is what keeps us going.

NFAxI... #stillhis
Love,
Veronica

Today's Update...

I just had to share a little something about today. Conner has been struggling terribly with school. He literally always has. From two and a half he hated leaving my side. Didn't matter if it was to go to daycare, then head start, then preschool, so on and so on. Well, sixth grade is no different. He gets himself worked up and usually vomits, then SOMETIMES goes on to class and sometimes can't handle the anxiety and spends the day in the nurse's office or goes home. 

The change in school districts has not helped the situation. We have struggled, fought tooth and nail, met with our school counselor, and taken other measures to try to get Conner to be ok with leaving me for the day and going to school. I have no clue why he has ALWAYS had separation anxiety BUT now I know it's because of his huge fear of losing me too. So...the start to this school year has been rocky to say the least. 

Today two incredible things happened. Conner did vomit in my office trash can for the millionth time it seems, but he recovered and went to school all day. And the first Incredible thing was allowed to happen. When Conner got to me after school he was smiling and holding a large envelope. Inside the envelope was an invitation to join Junior Beta Club! I was so proud and excited and immediately thought of how happy daddy would be. I mean, yay Conner!!!! He was proud and humble all at once, which was awesome to witness! He was apprehensive at first, of course because meetings will require him to be away from me for a little longer than usual, but I convinced him that I will be right there in my office waiting at the end of every one. So, that was awesome moment number 1.

Now, incredible event number 2 had us both in tears. 

Conner and I are both very musical. I have always been and was so much so when younger that my sister became annoyed with my singing on a daily basis. I love to dance but don't get to often. This also tends to annoy people I'm sure. But dancing is awesome! A couple of years ago my little boy promised me that at random intervals in our normal, every day routines, he would slow dance with me. He has kept his promise several times over the past couple of years and I have loved every second of it. This evening our cows were out for the millionth time and I was having a "moment" if you will and Conner was in the house showering. He apparently had a "moment" too while I was trying to move the uncooperative cattle in my life. So, rough night. 

I was washing his thermos for tomorrow's lunch after giving up on the cows for the night and deciding to come inside when he walked up to me while a slow song played on his phone. "Momma, I have never gave up on my promise." (Grammatically incorrect and all...LOVE it!) He grabbed me by the hand and made me turn to face him and slow dance. He told me, "I've been kind of having a rough night while you were trying to move cows." I said, "I know buddy...me too." 

Then...the moment happened. Drinking Class, Mike's song, came on and we both stopped mid step and began sobbing and smiling all at once. I said, "listen bubba...its daddy telling us he's with us right now in this very moment in our kitchen watching us slow dance! Oh my gosh! I know he is, Conner!" I held my little boy close and let him cry into my chest and I kissed his head and held him so tight my knuckles were white. He squeezed me back and we danced slowly until daddy's song ended. 

My husband sends me that song every single time I need him to. And it makes me smile and nod and say, "ok baby...I gotcha. I know...you're here. But I miss you still. I love you and thank you for coming to me." It's amazing. 

Even from Heaven my husband is watching us and wrapping his arms around us whenever he can. And I don't care what anyone else says or thinks...it is true. God and Mike are working together when Conner and I need them the most. 

I'm glad we got to slow dance to your song tonight baby. I'll dance with you forever.

I love you and miss you NFAxI...

#stillhis

Love,

Veronica 

Unexpected Visits...

Grief will come knocking for a not-so friendly visit when you least expect it. 

I have never been overly fond of unexpected guests. It never fails that laundry is piled in the floor, dishes litter the sink, my hair is unkempt and my clothes are askew when I'll hear a knock at the door. 

Now, when my husband and I were just dating, he paid me a couple of surprise visits but those were the BEST!!!! Twice he ended up pulling a smooth one early on in our relationship and arrived at my doorstep with beer, pizza, and a devilish grin that melted me. At first I was afraid of what he would think with laundry in piles, dishes littering the sink, my hair completely amuck and my huge bath robe covering my old pajamas. But he loved me for everything. So his surprise visits always made me happy. 

These surprise visits from grief kick my butt and exhaust me. And quite frankly, I'm sick of them on one hand...but then on the other hand, I'm scared to let them go. I'm scared to lock the door and keep them shut out for fear that they'll only build momentum and worsen as time passes. So, I open the door and against my own will, I let them in.

Today has been another rough day. I tried to move cows this morning and they decided NOT to cooperate. Conner noticed our utility room floor was wet and we discovered that our freezer was apparently having a meltdown of some sort so it was literally thawing much of our frozen food. I tried taking a nap to forget about all the morning's aggravation, but sleep would not come; my mind was focused on my uncooperative cattle and freezer. 

So, I decided to clean. I vacuumed, picked up loose toys, started a load of laundry, and then moved to Mike's office. Conner has created a mess on the spare desk in Mike's office and over the last 8 months it has grown exponentially.

I was rearranging things and had forgotten what one of the plastic tubs held. I opened it to find hunting gear. Camo and orange littered the tub. I pulled Mike's vest from the top of the pile, buried my face and breathed in deeply. It was him. I could smell him and hear him and see him and feel him for just a brief second. 

That brief second crushed my soul. I began sobbing uncontrollably and sat in the office floor where I had sat with my husband many times over the years, just talking and laughing. I held onto that vest and watched tears fall to the floor. I was broken all over again. Reminded of the love we once had that I will never have again. 

The rest of the day has been spent just going through the motions. We were invited to our best friends', the Griffins, son's birthday. Conner has been distracted and has had a blast in their pool. He is oblivious to my meltdown today. He is having fun. 

That's what is important. I have to keep these unexpected visits from grief to a minimum in front of my little boy. I have to pretend. But that's ok...if it protects him, then I'll keep as many of these visits to myself. 

I can't wait to see you again, my love. We sure did make a great team. I love you more than words...and miss you even more than that...

NFAxI...

#stillhis

Love,

Veronica