I Wanted to be the One...

I wanted to be the one to write the story of my life, exactly HOW I wanted it written.  I didn't get that; it's not my job to write the story of my life. I mean sure, in some aspects I have a choice but in others, the deck is dealt by The Lord. 

There are things I wanted that I didn't get and things I still want that I'm afraid I'll never have. 

I wanted to be the one to grow old beside a man who loves me endlessly. I wanted to be the one to straighten his tie the day our son becomes a husband. I wanted to be the one who holds hands as we walk through hospital doors to greet our first grandchild. 

I wanted to be the one who rests beside him in our king size bed every night for the rest of our lives. I wanted to be the one who laughs until I cry at his silly stories. I wanted to be the one who matters most when everyone is watching or when no one is. I wanted to wake next to him every morning. 

I wanted to be the one forever. 

I'm so scared I'll never get what I want now. I'm confused as to where and how and even when I may completely move forward and away from the crippling grip of grief. 

I want to be loved endlessly again. 

I want a manly man who will not shy away from me when we are out and will place his hand on the small of my back.

I want a man who will worship the ground upon which I walk. 

I want a man who will share all of his fears and secrets with me and will protect mine when I share them with him. 

I want a man who will sweep me off my feet and tell me I'm beautiful even though I'm not. 

I want a man who doesn't have to be prompted to compliment me, whether it be for my looks, cooking skills, parenting skills, whatever. 

I want a man who will surprise me with pizza and beer. 

I want a man who will make me weak in the knees with just one kiss. 

I want a man who will accept, appreciate, and love all of my flaws and fears and insecurities. 

I want a man who will be my son's friend, but also help make sure he becomes a good man. That's one hell of an order to fill and it won't be easy. 

I want a man who will respect my son's space and time of healing as well as mine. Conner has suffered a terrible loss, one from which he will never fully recover. I want a man who will recognize that and will love Conner through it. 

I want a man who will never try to replace Mike in Conner's or my eyes. 

We both have room for another love, but the man I want will have to recognize that it's another love and that our original love for Michael will never go away. It will not be lessened. It will not be replaced. We will still have our moments of sadness and even shock I think for the rest of our lives. 

I don't want a new man to feel threatened by this unending love we both have for Mike. There is no threat. It will not overshadow our new love when it comes; it will just be shared. We will be shared. Conner's and my heart will always belong to Michael; however, there is so much love in there that our hearts will just need to be shared and can belong to someone new as well.

I want a man who will be ok with that. 

Tonight is quiet. I am outside in my chair where I spent so much time last year. In just a few short days my husband will have been gone for 18 months. I don't know how and I don't know why. Quiet, desperately lonely nights like tonight bring back the floodwaters and I just can't help but think how much I would give to be the one who is completely happy, safe, loved, unscathed, appreciated, respected, wanted, adored, and at peace.  

I love you Michael, and I'm trying my best to open my heart and share it. But I'm scared. 

Sweet dreams, World. Wrap your arms around your family. Don't breathe one more breath without "I love you" in the mix. Trust me...Mike and I never let an opportunity pass us by. For that I am grateful but it sure does make these quiet nights more lonely. 

Lord, I'm so beyond ready to be the one who has all she wants and deserves

Another Father's Day in Heaven...

Happy Father's Day in Heaven, Michael. I'm sorry that you can't be here with our son today. I'm sorry that he can't have his dad today. I'm sorry I don't get to wish my husband Happy Father's Day with our traditional morning hug and special steak dinner. 

I remember when he was born and I watched your eyes shine when you came back into the room very proudly telling his weight and length. You smiled but also looked at him like you knew this was huge. You had two sons. Two boys who you would be responsible for. Two boys who one day would have to go out into this big huge world and survive whatever life threw at them, and all they might have would be what you and I had taught them. 

We didn't get to teach them all we wanted to together. But life and it's endless undulation has taught them plenty. I have written another letter to Conner from you and I imagine this is what you would say:

Dear Conman,

Hey, son!!! My gosh I miss you! You are getting so tall it's crazy! I can see it all the way up here! 

I'm so proud of you and how sixth grade ended. You're so smart, Conner. Gosh you are. And that's cool how you got the PE Award! I saw mom smiling huge on that one...I think she was a little surprised since you don't do too much PE at home...hahaha... But that's ok; you will one day. 

Hey, I wanna tell you a few things bub that I may have written before, but I know they can't ever be said too much. I'm sorry more than anything that I can't be there with you today, Conner. I know it's Father's Day and it stinks that I can't be there with you and your brother, but know that I love you with all my heart all the way from up here. I know momma is actually really hoping you don't know what day it is, but she's scared you do with all those stinkin' commercials they've been playing. Be gentle with her today. Today is just as hard on her, or maybe even more so, than it is on you. 

Son, I'm sorry I'm not there to help mom finish raising you. I know she feels like a failure most of the time and is scared to death she's messing up. I know she hurts so much still on the inside but doesn't show it as often as she did. That doesn't mean it's not still there because it very much is, but she feels like she has to hide it or people will think she's crazy. And she knows the more she gets upset openly, the more it bothers you. 

Your mom is dealing with more than any one single person should, especially her. She doesn't deserve any of this, so please try hard son to be a good boy. Listen. Stop arguing. Do what she asks the first time. Help without being told to. She's so broken, son. Be gentle. 

I miss you so much, Conner. I'm sorry I worked too much and didn't do as much stuff with you as I should have. Man, that was stupid. I would give anything to be with you guys right now. I'd definitely not be working today, well yeah, maybe in the hayfield but I'd quit before dark no matter what. The hay would still be there. 

You know, mom and I thought about selling everything years ago and moving to Columbia where the MRWA office is. Did you know that? I thought about just selling out and living a normal life in just a house with a yard and not worry if about being a farmer. I could have taken over the boss of MRWA when the time came and just lived way less stressful. But I was too hard headed. I though I could get it all done and you and your brother would have my dream farm. And now? I can't even think about it because all that farm has done is break yours and your momma's hearts. All it's done is add an enormous load to your momma's shoulders and I can't fix it. But, I can't do anything about it now. I just hope and pray you guys know I love you. 

Conner, I know you've met a new friend, mom's new friend. I want you to know that I am so proud of you for being nice to him. Buddy, he and mom might not stay together forever, and I promise you he isn't in any way ever gonna try to be me. But to see the way he pays attention to you and does stuff with you makes me smile. Thank you for being nice to him. I know mom was worried about that. And like I said, they're just dating and it's new still, so that doesn't mean they're necessarily gonna be together forever. You guys will just have to see how that goes together. I know mom is scared but she's taking it slow and steady for both of your hearts, so I know she's making the right decisions. And he's a nice guy and I'm so proud of you for being nice back to him. It's ok to like him, bub, it's ok to want to hang out with him. I'm so proud of you for taking that step with momma. 

Son, I want you to not be afraid to laugh and smile again after all this. I'm so glad you've gotten that cute little chuckle, like mine, back. I'm glad you laugh more now than you cry. I'm so proud of you. 

Please hug momma for me today and tell her how much you love her. You know she's your dad and your mom now, so remember she's playing both. She doesn't get a break or help or someone to make the big decisions with, so keep that in mind. Love her double for me. 

I gotta go buddy. I miss you so much Conner and wish I could wrap my arms around you so tight. You have a good day and be good! I love you more than anything. 

Love, Dad

Truth Serum...

Wine. An entire bottle. Consumed alone in this huge, empty, silent house. 

The boy is at grandma's for the night so I'm taking an evening to wallow in self-pity. 

I don't feel safe anymore. I felt safe with Mike. I felt safe in my role as a wife and mother. I felt safe as a woman in love with a man who loved her back in equal measure. I don't feel those things anymore. I don't feel like I'm the most important thing, which is stupid because honestly...I was never the most important thing anyway.  Oops...truth serum.  I never have been the most important thing in a man's life. Now I am to my son, but it's a different kind of important. I miss that most important feeling with someone who truly, madly, endlessly, breathlessly, irrevocably loves you. 

Mike thought I was important. But Mike was a workaholic and making a dollar was more important. Fueling his dream was more important. And don't get me wrong, it was a beautiful and amazing dream. But it was HIS dream. He never asked if it was mine or the boys' dream. And now where is that dream? Pissed away in the wind. Tied up in probate court is where it is. Drowning his wife in debt is where it is. But I'm not mad at Mike about it; I'm just hurt. And sad. And broken. And lonely. 

Widowhood is a ridiculous thing. I have said it again and again and again how ridiculous it is and that it is a living, breathing entity. It's true. I swear. I've no control over it. 

So, here is some truth. I'm old. Or at least I'm getting old. I'm scarred. Both physically with stupid stretch marks and cellulite and wrinkles and age spots. Yeah, it's awesome. And emotionally with more scars than I know what to do with. There isn't enough blog space to cover the experiences I've had or witnessed. 

I don't know what I want though. I want to fall in love again but then I'm scared to. I feel like I'm cheating. I feel like I'm not good enough and also that I'm not important enough but then that I'm being selfish if I say, hey...pick me. Just pick me. Pick me to spend your time with.  Pick me to spoil. Pick me. Just pick me.  

I want to be the most important in a man's life. I want to be made to feel special with surprise tickets to a Cardinals game. I want to be surprised with a weekend getaway. I want to be made to feel like #1. Ugh wine is stupid. I'm going to bed before I post something regrettable. 

Please, if you know a widow/widower, invite them out. Have fun with them. Make dinner and take it over. Go out for a drink and dinner. Make them laugh. Pray with them. Cuss with them. LISTEN. Just listen. And hold them. Tight. 

We all have our own similar, achingly individual story. Listen to it. 

Love,

Veronica 

Grief Cares Not...

Yesterday I broke down with a gut wrenching cry. In the middle of helping hang the large map of the farm Mike had created some years ago. I'm sure to everyone around that I appeared as a complete lunatic because one second I was full of excitement at the cool changes to Conner's room, then literally it gripped me by the throat and I had to leave the room. Grief cares not that you were smiling just a second ago.

Seeing what my husband built and worked so hard for, and knowing that I AM FAILING him kills me. I cannot keep the farm. I cannot do it on my own. We are soon to be sitting in this house, looking out at someone else's farm. So that is what hit me yesterday as I looked at this awesome map of the farm, adorning my son's new log siding wall in his bedroom. 

See the thing about grief is this: it cares NOT about you and your hopes, dreams, plans, mood, and so on. Grief has a beating heart of its own and it will grip your heart any time it so chooses. I have written of grief being a living, breathing entity before and there is nothing more true. 

A person in grief has no hint as to when grief might come rushing in. It comes most definitely without an invitation. A person in grief has no control over muffling the sounds of that grief. It grabs hold and kicks and screams until it gets its fill of leaving you weakened. I'm telling you, it is so surreal sometimes and weird. Grief literally just swoops in. 

I guess I better just "suck it up buttercup" because I've been told the grief attached to widowhood will never leave my side. Even if I fall in love again, or choose to remarry, or whatever life may bring...my stupid buddy grief will tag along for every ride. Even if nothing else it will come in the form of worry--am I good enough for this man; is he good enough for me; does he really even like me; does he think I'm beautiful like Mike did; what if he doesn't like me as much as I like him; what if Conner gets hurt; am I doing a good job with work; what if I don't do well at work; what if staying here once the farm is no longer ours is too much; what if I never truly find happiness again; what if my son DOES become a Marine; what if he becomes a punk...wow...it never stops. And I guess it makes sense. It makes sense because I do have so much love left to give and so much life left to live, but there will always be that grief of my old life just ending so abruptly and tragically. 

I didn't just lose Mike...I lost a way of life. I lost comfort and security, peace and acceptance, romance and spontaneity, daily compliments and being swept off my feet time and time again, my own confidence physically and in all other ways, and the just knowing that he would be home eventually. I lost the assurance that my life was finally settled and what it was supposed to be. And now, I have to start all over. All by myself. I have to build from the ground up, from the inside out, from the beginning to the end...and you know what? Grief cares not.