Cruelty and Kindness...

Cruelty could best be defined as something someone does or says which causes pain or suffering to another, usually intentionally. 

Kindness might be defined as being generous, friendly or considerate, even when it's easier or faster to not be. 

Both cruelty and kindness mean so much to a widow; they mean so much to her child(ren). 

This past year has brought me a vast array of instances of both cruelty and kindness. I have seen such an outpour of generosity that still brings me to tears when it comes our way. And then I have seen such deliberate, evil and malicious things happen or have heard of them being said that the tears also come.  In the past year I have experienced such a range of emotions and unfortunately not one of them has been happiness. Sure, I've laughed and smiled, but have not felt one true ounce of happiness. I am unsure when I ever will experience true happiness again...or IF I ever will.  

And the reasons are because even through the gracious kindness of others, there is an ever present pang of torture inside my belly and heart because my husband, my soul mate, my best friend, is gone and he cannot experience this kindness toward us. Another reason is due to the malicious ill-intent of so many people and much of it stems from greediness, jealousy, and just pure unadulterated hate. And it's interesting how NONE of this ridiculous cruelty happened when my husband was here. And I can't do anything about that and IT SUCKS! 

The cruelty my son and I have experienced has come in a range of measures. It is cruel to spread lies about a widow. It is cruel to pretend you care and then when you get a text simply asking if her child can play with yours, you choose not to respond...like EVER... It is cruel to wish for her to lose everything so that your scavenging hands can land on it all. It is cruel to say you are a friend but then forget she exists when she needs your friendship the most. The cruelty list could go on and on and on... 

But thank God we have been blessed more than we deserve and are humbled by the kindness that comes our way. It is so generous of others who have donated to my husband's scholarship fund in the past couple of months. It is so considerate to get weekly texts from the true friends we have, just checking on us. It is kind when someone sees us out at a restaurant and pays for our dinner without me knowing until I ask for the check. 

I love those kindness moments. One came tonight when I received a phone call from a friend whose church is donating one year's worth of scholarship money (that is enough for TWO kids who will be awarded in my husband's name). I cried at the restaurant table where I received the call. I love the little pick-me-up texts from one of my oldest friends and smile when her text comes through at work reading, "hope you're having a good week!" Her texts never fail! They come weekly, like clock work! I love you Martha!!!! 

I love the times my family or friends have cooked us dinner, (sorry for all the self-invites we've inflicted on you guys! ;) I love the hard work that some people put out to help keep what little bit of livestock I have fed and watered. Taking extra time out of their day to drive to the farm and do whatever so that I'm ok is such a selfless, Christian act. And especially for absolutely nothing but my "thank you" in return. And even with these small and large acts of kindness, the cruelty sometimes overshadows them. 

Sometimes I want to run away from this place. The cruelty gets to be too much. It drains me and I'm already drained emotionally, mentally and physically. And I just feel like, why kick someone when she's down???!!!! Do people think I haven't experienced enough pain that they need to inflict more???!!!! I have done nothing but work my butt off to keep what I can, to honor my husband who I knew better than anyone else did, to raise our son by myself, to pay all the bills alone, to maintain a house, to work full time, and so much more. Do people really not see that? 

I wonder if people could see more of the reality of my son's and my daily lives, would they be less cruel and be more kind? I wonder if they saw all the times we cry...or all the times we pray for some sort of relief...or all the sleepless nights...the empty smiles because we're missing him so much...the medication we just weaned ourselves from because we cannot depend on a drug to bring us to the other side...the utter silence that fills our home now...the fears that run wild on our minds and in our hearts...I wonder. 

God has told us over and over again to just believe. To trust, to just hold on. I'm trying with all of my might. Some days are most definitely more difficult than others. Today has been one of those days. Today I want to throw a dart at a map and pack. Today I want to start fresh somewhere else instead of stay here being tortured every day by Mike's absence and cruelty's presence. Today I want to hide with my son and forget about the world. I literally would. Today. 

But I'll keep hoping that things will one day look up. That our lives will be filled with forgiveness and happiness and love. That we will know what it's like to be a happy family again. 

Until then, I beg you to lift us up in prayer. We pray every night but we believe in the power of prayer. Maybe if we all pray hard enough, others' cruelty will stop not just toward this widow and her son, but toward all widows and their children! Maybe if we all pray hard enough, hearts and souls can heal. 

Until I see you again baby...you are mine and I am yours...

NFAxI...

#stillhis

Love,

Veronica 

How Much Did I Lose?

When I lost my husband, I lost so much more than I bargained for. 

I lost every sense of security. I am afraid all the time of what will end up happening to my son and me. Will we be financially ok? Will we lose everything but maybe our house? Can I do justice to this solo parenting gig? Am I going to permanently screw up with Conner? 

I lost my confidence. Mike complimented me every day, no matter if I looked a mess from just waking up or if I was glammed up after begging him to attend a prom with me. He truly thought I was beautiful whether I had "raccoon eyes" from smudged mascara, or freshly highlighted hair glistening in the sunlight. He made me truly believe that he thought I was beautiful. It didn't matter that I never believed it; I had finally found a man who did.

I lost the peace inside my heart. I struggle every single day, no matter that it's been a little more than one year; I am so lost without him. I want to move forward some days but most of my days are spent missing him and all that we weathered together. My heart aches and rebreaks all day, every day. I wish it wouldn't but it doesn't listen to me. 

I lost my desire to go out and see people and do things with anyone other than my son. And on most days when we are not in school, you'll find us holed up in this house. I have no desire to go anywhere most of the time; I'm not nearly as extroverted as I used to be. 

I lost my desire to talk. Really to anyone. I text way more often than I talk with anyone. I often times ignore calls; not because I don't care about the person calling, but mostly because I haven't the energy to lie and fake it and pretend we are doing well. If people really heard the truth when they ask, "how are you doing?"...boy howdy...they would never call again and would probably fall into a dark depression. I just don't want to talk. I'm quiet now. 

I lost so much in Mike when he left. I lost my best friend, my right hand man, my wingman. I lost my favorite voice, my softest kiss, my imperfectly perfect love. 

I lost me. 

A part of me will never return because it died with him. The Veronica who walked proudly into a room whenever her husband was beside her is now gone. She is weaker now, more vulnerable, less sure, less happy. She is broken into a million pieces, shattered against the shock of losing her husband on a normal freaking Monday. She is in a darker place now, and even through she smiles and laughs, there is and will always be a tinge of pain.  

The Veronica who married Mike on an insanely beautiful August evening no longer exists. And I liked her. She was happy. She was secure. She was sure that she was loved as deeply by a man as she loved him. She felt safe and comfortable. Life was not always sunshine and roses, but it was theirs. 

It's so very difficult to stay positive. One day I post something profound and seemingly healing, and the next I feel like a bottomless pit of anguish. I just miss my husband so freaking much. 

I love you more than words baby...NFAxI

#stillhis

Love, 

Veronica 

My Husband...

Dear Baby,

You are missed so incredibly much. With each passing day, I've been told the grief will lessen and the pain will dull. But, today I cried in Hobby Lobby when looking at wooden signs and one had a message about love. My mind instantly flooded with thoughts of us and my heart broke all over again. 

I would have followed you anywhere, ya know? I wanted nothing more than to make you happy. I wanted to hold onto you forever and to make a life with you during which we could both grow old. I wanted to sit with you on our porch and watch a million sunsets across the horizon.

I never planned to bury you way before what we thought it should be. I never imagined your life ending at the young age of 44. I guess I was scared and worried often about you; I knew you always pushed yourself beyond anyone else's limits, but I was so naive in thinking it would never happen. You convinced me it wouldn't. It was that Marine Corps mentality that I blamed: invincibility. 

I'm sorry for all the things we didn't get to do or see. I'm sorry for all the memories we won't be able to make now. 

I think about you literally all day, every day. Even when it's a good day and I've smiled and laughed, or worked really hard and stayed busy, I think of you. I think about how you would be proud of me in my new role as a principal. But then I also think that if you were still here, we would never see each other due to all of my supervision duties. 

But even with all the things that distract me, baby, you never leave my mind. 

Remember all the times we lay beside each other, just talking until late into the night? I remember we used to talk about our future, of our plans to grow old together. I remember how your hazel eyes could literally melt me, every single time. Remember all the times we drove to a spot on the old farm or here on this one, and we would just park the truck, sit and talk? We would look up at the stars and you would always get this dreamy look on your face and your eyes would glisten with peace and happiness. 

I was your home. I was your safe place. And you were mine. 

I miss you so much still and even though it's been a little over a year, I absolutely can't believe some days that you're really gone. It's so weird. I've even changed a few things in the house to make it feel a little different; however, no coat of paint can cover the memories in each of these rooms. 

You were always so proud of a well-kept house. It made me proud to know you loved the way I kept our house clean and decorated. I've been slacking on that lately, but luckily our moms help me out some. 

I went to visit you the day that marked one year. I couldn't stay long. I just couldn't. It was crazy how the cows gathered close to the fence just like they did they day we said our final goodbyes. 

It is a beautiful cemetery, and sometimes I like to just lay in the sunshine for a while. It's been so cold lately I haven't been there much. In the spring I'll visit more. I'll lay beside you on a warm, sunny day and just lay there. I'll place my hand on your tombstone like so many times before. 

We won't need to talk. You'll know what I'm feeling. That's the way it's been for so long with us. You knew how much I loved you and needed you and wanted you; I knew the same from you. I'm so thankful there was no shadow of doubt in either of our hearts the day you left. 

There's a new song out that reminds me of us, "Die a Happy Man." It sings of how even if this man never gets to do all the things he dreamed of, as long as he has the hand of the woman he loves, he can die a happy man. I hope you were happy; I hope you knew no pain. I hope it happened so quickly that my worst fears are only terrible figments of my imagination and nothing of the truth. I hope you saw me and your boys, smiling and laughing as you drifted into Heaven. 

But I'll never know. I can only hope. And I hope good things for Conner's and my future. I hope one day to be happy again; to smile and laugh so freely and more often than now. I hope to live an adventurous life with our little boy and to teach him humility. I hope so many things for our son's future that I can't even scratch the surface. 

I love you Michael, more than words. And I'm still so proud to be your wife. I'm so proud to have spent 13 years beside you, living and loving all the way. I am grateful for the life you showed me, for the lessons you taught me, and for the love you bestowed upon me. I am so grateful to have been your wife on Earth for 11 years. And I will be your wife now, forever, an always times infinity. It won't matter if eventually a new person comes into my life, or even if I remarry. You will always be my husband and I will always be your wife. Maybe there is a good man out there somewhere who can accept that, can accept that you'll always be a part of me and I'll never let that go.

I miss you, husband. I miss us. I miss life.

I better go for now. Exhaustion is settling in and out bed is calling my name. 

I hope you're looking at the stars tonight and are smiling at all the times we sat in the field, in the old Toyota, falling more in love each time. You are my forever. 

I love you baby. I'll see you in my dreams.

 

NFAxI...

#stillhis

Love,

Veronica 

A Ticked Off Widow...

People will talk. It's inevitable, especially in a small town.  Rumors fly and people try to create a soap opera for their boring lives, so they lie. They fabricate these asinine thoughts and turn them into lies, only to hurt others. 

I have been broken for a little over a year now. Broken and devastated beyond recognition at times. I have been left with a debt load that no teacher or principal salary will ever come close to covering. I have been left to be a SOLO parent...yes solo, not single. There is a massive difference. 

I have cried myself to sleep too many times to count and have offered up infinite prayers to take the pain and loneliness away. I have held our little boy close to me as he has wailed for the loss of his best friend, his hero. 

I have lost more sleep than I know what to do with. I have worked like a dog both on this farm and in my career to keep things going for me and our son. I have moved cows, fed cows, worked cows, mowed fences, sprayed fences, and much more. 

I have payed my husband's debts and learned way too many things about probate court, estates, and lawyers. I have also learned so many things about people I once thought I could trust. People I thought cared about me and my son. 

And you know what? I'm ticked off. I'm mad. Like, fighting mad at times. I've done it all right; I've been the "model widow". I've followed the rules, played this terrible never-winning game, and lost more than I ever imagined when I lost my husband. 

So, instead of supporting, praying for, or offering love and encouragement to, some choose to offer betrayal. I'm tired of it. 

I'm tired of widowhood. I wish I could quit.

I'm tired of being lonely and sad, of crying every single day, of having dreams of him so vividly that I wake shaking, of raising our son alone, of doubting my chance at happiness. I'm tired of believing when someone speaks that I can trust what they say. I'm tired of being the topic of others' negative conversations. 

But you know what? 

It's all ok. God has this. 

I won't lie; it's a struggle staying the course everyday. It's a struggle to keep it together and not just throw my hands up and run away. It's a struggle not to fall into the trap of vicious rumors. 

But I won't veer off course. I won't throw my hands up. I won't run away. I won't fall into the trap of evil. 

I still love my husband. More than words. 

One terrible realization I have is that probably every young widow has been the subject of vicious rumors at one point in her journey.

"Oh I heard she's sleeping with so and so..." 

"Oh I heard she blew all that life insurance on a new car and a vacation to the Bahamas..."

"I heard she's gone off the deep end and doesn't even leave the house..."

"I heard she's trying to hide things from other people in the family..."

These are just the terribly hurtful things I imagine evil could bring to others' tongues. And it ticks me off; not just for me but also for my widow sisters. 

Widowhood is devastating. It breaks us down into the pits of nothingness and forces us to live a new and unwanted life. The least others could do is respect us. Help us. Pray for us. Respect our husband who we loved more than words. Help our children. Pray for our children. 

That's how you help a widow heal. It takes time. 

She's going to look awful and sometimes not leave her house. Her best friend and love of her life was just ripped from her grips. 

She's going to forget lots of things, even important dates and events she should know by heart. 

She's got too many bills, and a child to raise alone to be blowing money left and right. 

She is still in love with the man she married and can't just turn that off even though he's in the cold, hard ground.

So if you know any widows, whether in person or just from following this blog, offer up words of encouragement. Offer up prayers. Offer up love and compassion. 

Because what if it was you?  

I am now, forever and always times infinity...

#stillhis 

Love, 

Veronica 

You Should Be Here...

I feel like my life is a sad, country song that keeps playing on repeat.  And I'm the only one with the ear buds in, cranked to the highest volume, no one and nothing able to penetrate the sound.

Someone said something to me the other day, when spilling my guts about the hardships Conner and I are facing, and he said, "...and you're doing it all alone.  This would have been nothing if Mike was here. You guys would get through it no problem.  It wouldn't have broken you guys, only made you stronger.  I'm sorry."

He is right.

If you were here, none of this would be happening.  And if it was happening, you would hold my hand, reassure me, and we would walk into the future together.  You aren't here, but you should be here.

You should be here to watch our son grow and learn and become a young man.
You should be here to wrap your arms around me and listen to me complain about whatever.
You should be here beside me on this couch right now, looking over your glasses at the tv between looking online at something random.
You should be part of all my school functions, where most employees bring their spouses.
You should be here to reassure me that we will be ok.
You should be here to hold my hand and give me little kisses while we are out on a date.
You should be beside me in our bed, rolling over and snoring through the night.
You should be here to have our morning cup of coffee.
You should be here to make me excited about coming home every evening.

I could go on and on with things that you SHOULD be here for, but what good will it do me?

I miss you.  I miss happiness and love and safety.  I miss assurance and laughter and flirting.

What in the world and where in the world am I supposed to go from here?

Sometimes I seriously consider just picking up and moving.  Nobody knows that...well everybody knows that now...  But, I do.  Some days things are so lonely and the familiarity just makes it lonelier. Sometimes I think of just starting over, and I don't mean in a neighboring town.

Conner and I visited one of my high school friends and her husband in Oklahoma City, well a suburb of it, over Christmas break and I honestly thought...well, this place isn't bad.  I could learn this small city well.  I could get a job doing so many different things; it wouldn't even have to be in education. But I'm sure I could get my Missouri certificate transferred to Oklahoma. I could get my son and me a little apartment or a small house.  We could go out places with my high school friend and her husband and I'm sure they could introduce us to people.  We could start from scratch.

But I'm not brave enough.  I'm not strong enough.

If you were here I would be strong and brave. If only you were here.

I can't write much more tonight; I'm so exhausted.  Emotionally, mentally, and physically drained does not even begin to cover it. So, rest well my husband.  Dream of me tonight and I will meet you in my dreams.  Hold me tight and cover me in kisses as I drift off to sleep.  Whisper how much you love me just like you used to every day.  Bring me happiness if only for a night.  You should be here. I shouldn't be having to dream of you.

I am yours and you are mine.  Now, Forever, and Always times Infinity.
#stillhis
Love,
Veronica