15 Months...

How did we get here? 

How did 15 months without you pass like life is just supposed to go on? 

The days have turned to nights and many of those nights have been sleepless. 

I have cried for you and have watched our little boy cry for you. 

I have held him close in the middle of anywhere and everywhere and he sometimes has been the one holding me up. 

We have screamed at each other and screamed at the clouds that dance across the sky like all is well. 

We have both dreamed that you are within our reach only to turn around and you are gone. 

I have lost weight and gained it back. 

I have become more introverted; so much so that I bet you wouldn't even recognize my personality. 

Conner has missed so much school, whether all day at home or working in the counselor's office, all because he misses you desperately...

he's afraid of what will happen to our farm...

he's scared to ever have a new man in our lives...

he is terrified I'll die too... 

That's a pretty heavy load for a little boy's shoulders. 

We have spent some days laughing, laughing until we cried. 

We have built new relationships, made new friends, but unfortunately also lost a few. 

We have seen the ugly side of others and felt anger at their terrible lies and slurs. 

We have sat and told our favorite stories of you and have tried to forget anything negative we remember. 

We have made plans and then broken them; our anxiety takes over often. 

We have spent too much time at the cemetery and not enough time all at once. 

We have relived December 29 and January 1 over and over and over and over..........

We miss you. 

Desperately

Terribly 

Constantly

Endlessly

15 months is too long without you. 

I can't imagine how long the rest of forever will feel. 

I had a sign made for our son that I'll give to him in your absence on his 12th birthday this May. He will cry. I will cry. But he will see every single day a reminder of your love. It is your handwriting. Your mark on our hearts. Forever. 

NFAxI

#stillhis

Love, 

Veronica

We love you and miss you Michael. 

I'm So FRIGGIN' Angry!!!!!

I am so incredibly sick of being a member of the WORST CLUB EVER!!!! It royally ticks me off! I don't WANT to be a Widow! I don't WANT to be a SOLO parent, or to pay all these Godforsaken bills on my own! I don't WANT to get so depressed that I eat fifty thousand pounds of food in front of me just because otherwise I feel like I might go crazy! I don't WANT to get so tired and exhausted from missing my husband that I end up turning what could be a perfectly blessed day into a bad day because of a sour mood that I take out on everyone, especially on my son! I'm sick of it! All of it! 

I'm sick of not being ME! The me I used to be was WAY more fun than the me that exists now! My friends Are amazing dancers and love to dance and be silly just for fun. I can't even dance with them! Used to I would have had no problem just getting out there and being silly with them. Now, I stand to the side and watch, almost like I'm watching from a distance miles away. 

Used to I enjoyed taking walks around the farm, down the gravel road just for the fresh air and little bit of exercise I would get. Now I don't want to walk. I don't want to move. I usually don't like to even go anywhere on the farm because it's too depressing. It's not his anymore. He isn't here working and I can't just pop over the hill and hang out with my husband on the farm. I don't want to be here some days! I still consider throwing a dart at a friggin' map and taking the heck off! 

Ugh I'm just so angry tonight! I'm mad that my husband left me with such a heavy load! It doesn't matter that he didn't mean to...we talked...no, I TRIED to get him to talk about getting things in order just in case. His answer was always that I was being morbid. Well what the F???? Now things are totally screwed up! He should have had things laid specifically out for which son got what, how things would be paid for, etc... But oh no. Now it's up to lawyers and a judge and IRS agents and Conner and I are trying to keep from sinking! He should have thought! He should have prepared better for the worst case scenario--him dying too soon and me being left alone. 

I hate so much that my day started ok and now I'm lying in bed fuming mad, clenching my jaw and feeling my neck and shoulder muscles tighten because I'm so freaking angry and TIRED! 

And Easter is tomorrow! You know what I've been thinking about instead of thinking about what I should be??? Which is that our amazing Savior rose from that terrible tomb just to give us eternal life!!!! What?!?! Why can't that be my focus???? What I've been thinking about is how angry I am that every. single. holiday. is now spent in a terrible frame of mind. 

My mind is flooded with the first Easter our baby boy got to hunt eggs and I remember he was holding my hand and would stop to pick up eggs as he saw them. Daddy was videotaping and bubba was running around in the back yard with Papa Gayle finding his own eggs. UGH!!!!!! Sometimes I just want to type cuss word after cuss word after cuss word! This is not fair! 

To me and to Conner, this is the worst thing ever! To Mike's mom and the rest of his family, this is the worst thing ever! He is gone. Forever. And yes, one day we all hope to see him again but we don't want to wait. We want him NOW! Here on Earth, back in our arms. And it makes me fighting mad! 

The Truth Is...

It's been a while since I've posted, so per my friend Katy's request, here I am.

The truth is, sometimes I don't know what to post because many days feel the same as all the others: full of depression, sorrow, regret, anger, exhaustion, fear, and so on.

I think man, I'm going to push someone over the edge if they keep reading the same sad story. But it is part of a widow's truth.  There are many truths in a widow/widower's world.

Life is difficult for everyone and we don't want anyone's sympathy in thinking our life is MORE difficult than yours.  It's just that our difficult is "different" because we do not have that one true person with whom we literally shared EVERYTHING anymore.  I don't have Mike to come home to and vent to about work.  I don't have Mike to share my secret fears with, my secret fantasies with, my happiness with.  I don't have Mike to flirt and giggle with, to sit beside on the couch, to look at with genuine pride and love. When I have a bad day, do you know what I have to do?  Keep it to myself.  My 11-year-old son does not need to be subjected to all of my woes, but unfortunately he can usually tell with just one look that I wish his daddy were here.  Just know that we don't think we are worse off than any of you; we wish our spouse was here to share all of our difficulties and all of our triumphs.

Other truths I am so afraid of knowing.  Will my sadness ever go away?  Will this stupid IRS audit ever go away?  Will I have anything left when it does?  Will we ever get a relationship with Tristan again like it used to be?  Will Conner ever be ok enough to come off his medicine?  Will it be completely devastating to my son when he has only a small fraction of the farm to play on?  Will Tristan let him have free roam over the rest of the farm once it is his and not ours?  Will I EVER get out of debt?????  Will I get back to "ok" enough to want to be social again instead of just wanting to spend my days holed up in my safe cocoon with just me and my son?  Would Mike be proud of me?

I know Mike is beyond proud of Conner, except for that arguing thing he still does with his momma every day! ugh...  Mike's pride for his sons is unquestionable.  Conner is extremely smart and has the SWEETEST personality when he wants to!  He makes friends easily and has a heart of gold.  Tristan is working and going to school and just got a new job for the summer that will help him in his major. So, Mike's pride for his boys is undeniable and I know it.

But what about me?  I worry that he wouldn't be proud of how I'm handling the sadness.  I'm not "bouncing back" like he would expect me to.  But, all in time I've been told.  There just is no definitive answer of how much time.  I told a friend yesterday, who just joined this crappy club, that all the advice I could give him is to just breathe and rely on God; hold his son tightly and just take it one step at a time.  Well, that's what I'm trying to do too, but some days, even after almost 15 months, make it more difficult to breathe than others.

The truth is, no one has it right.  No one "does" widowhood right.  We each just do it the best we can and try to make it through the days.  My biggest fear of doing something wrong is with my son.  I wish more than anything I could give him back his childhood and his daddy.  I wish more than anything that I could be the kind of mom I used to be, that I could be happy again, and silly again, and cry less and laugh more, and have energy to leave this house, and so on and so on...

Just try to walk in Grace my friends, and pray.  Every.Single.Day.  Pray, pray and pray some more.

I love and miss you baby, more than words can ever say.  It's difficult for those on the outside to understand. But I'm trying baby.  I'm trying to come out of this alive.  I just miss you beyond any measure of this world. 

I hope the sun is shining on your handsome face today.  I can see that beautiful, perfect smile and can hear your laughter while you share stories with your dad.

I love you NFAxI...
#stillhis
Love,
Veronica

We Don't Want People to Feel Sorry for Us...

I don't want anyone's sympathy.  I don't even want their empathy, because I don't want anyone to "understand and share" the feelings we have, and that is the true definition of empathy.  I would not wish this understanding of or the sharing of these feelings of despair upon my worst enemy. Empathizing with others is placing oneself in another person's world.  It is a terrible world in which widows and children of widows live.  I don't want others' empathy.  I know that might sound harsh. But, here is what I want...for me and for my son...

I want you to be patient with us.  We don't always arrive where or when we say we will; sometimes the grief gets the best of us and we just cannot make it.  Sometimes my little boy cannot make it to class for the anxiety that invades his wonderful, bright, and beautiful little boy mind.  I want you to be patient with him, even more so than with me.  Grief takes time...all the time it wants and it does not ask anyone for their opinion.  Sometimes we have good days, like a lot of good days in a row. Then we are thrown into the pit of our darkest memories of the day he was taken and the day we put him in the ground and we cannot function.  We are not pretending; we are not crying or acting sick to get out of anything; it is real.  All of it and if we had a choice, I promise you we would be happy and everywhere with all smiles and laughter and doing our best.  But, grief does not come for a little while and then go forever; it comes and goes, comes and goes, comes and goes...

I want you to just step back and give us space...when that is what we need.  Don't expect too much togetherness with us. Oftentimes we need some alone time.  Alone time with each other to process the memories of the loss we have endured.  We don't always need to be around others when we are wrestling with our memories.  Sometimes we literally just need you to step back from us to give us our space and time to cry and scream and whatever else.  This one is a tough one though because sometimes we want you to come closer and just wrap your arms around us.  Let us fall to the floor in sobs; fall with us.  Hold us there.  Hold on tight and just let us dampen your clothes with our tears. Hold us tighter when our screams get tighter.  It's ok.  It might be a weird place where we are when we just need to fall completely apart (again, we've no control, I promise), but that's ok. If you fall with us and hold us and let us cry...others will know we need you.  Others will know it's not just some circus show; it is a pain like no other and we need pure unadulterated love from someone at that very moment, so it's ok to look like weirdos crying in a pile on the floor.  You can explain later.

I want you to look at us like we are "normal".  NO one looks at us the same anymore; looks of wonder, fear, sympathy..they are the ones we get now.  From everyone.  Just look at us the same as you used to.  Yes, we are different.  Yes, we have changed in more ways than you know...BUT...we are also the same too.  I am the same Veronica who loves music, dancing, laughing, and her family. And Conner is the same boy who loves hunting, fishing, guns, the military, and his family. Remember that even in the midst of this tragedy, there are pieces of us that remain intact; they might be difficult to spot to the naked eye, but looking at us like we are ogres crossing the street makes us feel awkward.  I literally dart my eyes to the ground to avoid the looks.

I want you to listen to us.  Sometimes we need to talk about Mike at the most inconvenient times.  I have called my sister at 10:00 at night because I couldn't breathe and I just needed to cry to her.  I just needed to tell her for the millionth time that I don't understand and that I can't believe he is really gone.  Yes, almost 15 months later I still need to call my sister and say those words.  So, listen to us when we need to talk about Mike.  He was our world and we miss him, but we love hearing his name and sharing stories of our lives with him.  I have risen from restaurant tables and had to make a speedy exit because my breaths were coming in gasps and the tears were unstoppable from telling our story to our friends who will listen.  It is good for us to talk about our story.  We hope it will help others.

I want you to remain quiet.  Telling us, "Well, it must have happened for a reason," or "Well, he's in a better place now," is not cool. You know what?  I will never know the reason because God does not intend for me to know, but I don't need to hear that from you or from anyone else.  I know it; I really do, but it doesn't make it any easier of a pill to swallow here on Earth.  I will swallow that pill when The Good Lord shoves it down my gullet when I meet my husband at The Pearly Gates.  Until then, keep your reasoning for my husband being ripped from my grips, my son's father/hero/best friend being torn from his hands, my mother's-in-law first born being gone in a heartbeat, to yourself.  I don't need to hear about it.  I don't need to hear either that he is in a better place.  There is no better place for Mike than here with his family. I know you do not mean any harm in saying those things, but please don't.

I want you to pray for us.  Pray for us every time you pray.  Pray for our strength to keep breathing; for our will to keep living; for our patience and acceptance in times when they both seem the most fleeting; for our ability to forgive others' stupidity and rudeness; for our Faith to only increase; for us to get out from under the financial burden left upon my shoulders, and to get out from under it in a positive way; for us to one day have less anger -- anger toward Mike for leaving even though he didn't mean to, anger toward God for taking him, even though we know it is part of a Greater Plan, anger toward those who have talked in lies about us for no other purpose than pure malicious intent; for us to one day be free of any guilt we feel for our "what ifs" and "should haves" with Mike.  Just pray for us.  Pray for us.

I am exhausted so will close for tonight, but one day I want to stand on a stage, whether that is a church altar, a crowded women's conference, a stage at a widow's retreat... and tell our story.  I want to help someone.  I want them to know that what they are experiencing CAN be survived.  I want to be that person who helps someone NOT give up hope.  NOT give up faith.  NOT give up life.  So, one day.

I love you all who love us.

I love you Michael Richard and I miss you with every fiber of my soul, baby.  I hope the sun is shining on your face and the warm breeze is blowing your dark hair.

P. S. Our boy is growing so good...he is so much like you it's scary! ;)

NFAxI...
#stillhis
Love, Veronica

All That I Am...

All that I am never feels like enough without Mike.  He completed me and though I am trying as hard as I can, I just can't take a full step without him.  I think that I can some days.  I get all excited about the possibilities of a new life and of a new love, of happiness again someday.  And that excitement lasts a little while, but it is still always burdened with the lonesome feeling at the beginning and end of each day.  My days are cursed with an ever present thought pattern that flashes back and forth between my work life that I love and feel like is helping me thrive, and the realization that Conner and I are alone, which is so depressing.  I know I am blessed beyond measure in so many ways, and I am so grateful to The Lord for all of those blessings so please do not think I am ungrateful for my son and family, or for life in general. But...here is how I feel. 

I was always enough for him.  I was beautiful enough, sexy enough, smart enough, and funny enough. I was a great cook, a wonderful homemaker, a fun partner-in-...well...in everything.  I worked hard enough, I listened closely enough, and I fought fair enough to make him want to stay.  I was always enough.

I absolutely detest that I am here and all that I am is not what I was before.

I do not take care of myself nearly as well as I did when he was here.  I don't feel beautiful; I feel fat and gross all the time.  The confidence Mike gave me is diminished.  I lost quite a bit of weight after his passing, but now I "eat my feelings" so the weight has come back on.  I don't feel sexy at all. Why would I?  I haven't anyone in my life for whom I WANT to appear sexy.  I'm afraid I'll never have that new person.

I'm probably shooting myself in the foot with this, but seriously...there is NO ONE in my town or neighboring towns for me, so the whole wanting to look good for another man is just not in my thought pattern right now.  Every man I know is either too old, yes, I do have an age limit...if he's old enough to be my dad, then it ain't happenin'; too immature and/or legitimately crazy; too "outgoing", in that he drinks/parties/sleeps with way too many people; too married, and by the way I find men who flirt with women when they are married unappealing...shows a true lack of character and if a man is going to flirt relentlessly with me while married to another woman, he would do the same to me; too I don't know...I guess Michael set the bar pretty high.  I know what it's like to have a very hard-working, insanely sexy, crazy smart, killer romantic, very attentive, hilariously funny man who thinks I am all those things too.

So, I might just be alone forever.  Who knows.

I wonder if all the rest of the millions of widows across this country and others feel this way just in the beginning or if some of the insecurities last forever.  Even if they move forward, fall in love again, maybe remarry...I wonder if there will always be the thoughts like mine ingrained into a widow's brain?  And then, how unfair is that?  To the "new man"?  Ugh...it's so ridiculous and tormenting, this STUPID reality as a widow!!! I HATE IT!!!!!!!

So, I don't know if I will ever meet someone new; I want to...I want to flirt and laugh and find enjoyment in someone and dress sexy and all that...I really do want that.  But, right now all that I am is a widow, a mom, a sister, a daughter, an aunt, a friend, a high school principal, an aspiring writer, a child of God, a struggling woman.  I am still so broken that I am not enough for someone new, but the problem is, I'm not sure when someone new will be enough for me.

I love you, Michael and I want to one day find happiness and some sort of peace.  I hope the sun is shining on your brightly.

NFAxI...
#stillhis
Love,
Veronica