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. 

I Promise...

I became a widow 17 months ago tomorrow. 

My husband was ripped from my life in literally the blink of an eye. I was crouched in the gravel by my truck as I screamed at the top of my lungs, not knowing how I was going to survive. I had to speak aloud the words to my son that broke every ounce of me that might have remained: "your dad is gone, Conner. There was an accident at the concrete plant and your dad is dead." 

Did I say that with grace? No. I was barely breathing and my brain sure wasn't functioning at even a fraction of capacity. Do I regret how I told our 10 year old son? Yes. But I hadn't control at that point. 

For weeks, and yes weeks, I literally walked in a fog. I remember needing help to make it from the recliner to the bathroom during those first few days. And I literally mean it was like a fog. My limbs would just stop working at some points and my body would almost convulse into terrible and draining sobs. I couldn't drive myself for days. I didn't eat, didn't sleep, didn't speak unless I had to. I remember being fed Xanax after I would have a panic attack and massive hyperventilating/crying/screaming spell. I remember crawling into that huge king size bed feeling like it would swallow me whole at any minute because my super strong, always present husband was no longer in his spot. 

I relive Every.Single.Detail. 

The feeling in the pit of my stomach returns every time I see the first text from Mike's ex-wife which prompted it all into action. I feel the nausea take over every time I see myself shaking uncontrollably as I had to get dressed and begin calling Mike's family and my own. My breaths become labored every time I see him on that cold metal table, his body covered in a white sheet with his left arm exposed so that I might hold his hand. 

There is not one single detail of my husband's passing, of the immediate days following, of the funeral and the Marines and the flag and the family and friends and the cows that walked up to the fence at the cemetery, of the words spoken by our preacher, of the songs that played and thinking how Mike would have appreciated the songs I chose, of the weeks it took me to be able to work through a full day, of the counseling and medication that my son has had to endure, of the images of Conner throwing up daily because his heart and soul were ripped open that day as well, of the "big days" Mike has already missed, of the utter despair that I have felt so often the last 17 months. 

But let me tell you something...I PROMISE that one day, not immediately and not fast enough to satisfy your broken life, you WILL climb from the abyss of pain and loss and suffering and guilt and on and on and on... 

You have to FIGHT! You HAVE to! 

You have to claw your way out...kick and scream and fight to get to the other side. Because listen, NO ONE ELSE can or is going to do it for you. You will be bruised and tattered, exhausted and scared. But you WILL survive this, despite what your heart and soul sometimes scream at you. 

When it takes control, and that's the ugly reality about grief and it being its own living, breathing animal, you will still have break downs. You will still cry, but it won't be every day. You will miss him or her, but you will also look forward to the day. You will still wonder if you're making the right moves, but you will take a step forward despite it. You will NEVER stop loving him or her, but you will begin to recognize that life does go on. I know that 17 months ago, I didn't think it would and quite frankly, I did not want it to. Not that I contemplated taking my own life or anything like that, but I just did not want life to go on without Mike in it. That realization that life does go on, did not sit well with me and it really pissed me off. 

But I can't be angry about life's continuing cycle anymore. And I can't be afraid to breathe new life. And I can't give up on everything I've ever enjoyed and loved just because my husband died. 

I will NOW, FOREVER, and ALWAYS TIMES INFINITY love and miss my husband Mike, and the life and love we made together. But I PROMISE that I WILL survive and live my life to the fullest! I WILL laugh until I cry, love someone else, dance to my favorite songs, sing to the top of my lungs, giggle until my side hurts, smile a true smile, raise my son to be a good man, and pray thanks to God every day for bringing me this far. 

And I PROMISE...you will too. 

My hope is that one day I CAN and WILL be an inspiration to others. I hope one day to speak to groups and tell my story and encourage others to keep fighting so that they too can one day say... I SURVIVED! 

So please don't give up. Please read and retread this blog as many times as you need. Remember in my earlier posts, I was just like so many of you: full of everything BUT hope. Today I'm filled with hope. 

I will visit my husband this weekend, as it is Memorial Day weekend. I will place a flag for him and I will remove the old flower arrangements which badly need replaced. I will tell him how we are doing and I will confess my deepest love for him. I will walk away from the headstone able to breathe. 

I will NFAxI love and miss you, Michael Richard. You taught me so much about love and I have so much of that love left in me to give to others and to myself. 

I hope you're dancing in the sky...I hope you're singing in the Angel's choir...I hope the Angels know what they have...I bet it's so nice up in Heaven since you've arrived...  

Love, 

Veronica 

#stillhis 

New, Weird, Scary Nerves...

I haven't dated since 2001. 

I literally have only ever dated two men in my life, and those both became my husband (obviously at different times). I dated my first husband all through my teenage years and we married when I was 18. We divorced in 2001 and I began dating Mike that same year. We were married two years later. 

I've heard that Dating since widowhood is ENTIRELY different than dating in what I call "regular life". When I dated my ex-husband, we really didn't "date" because we were already a couple from the time I turned 13. We were just a regular couple and then married. There were never any nerves. We just were "us" from the beginning. No impressing or worrying to be done. 

With Mike, he was my first REAL date! The first man to ever approach me without already being my boyfriend. He was the first to just call me up and ask me on a date. I was so nervous but so incredibly excited!!! My first marriage was over and the divorce had been finalized for a little while before Mike called. I had no ties to anyone or anything so the idea of a date with someone new was full of excitement! 

Now, the thought of dating someone new has a mix of emotions. 

I am excited at the prospect of someone WANTING to ask me out. I've absolutely no self esteem and am beyond self-conscious. I have so many body flaws it's ridiculous and I haven't the energy or time to make any changes. And I don't care what all the exercise fanatics out there say--NO, I literally DO NOT have time. So for a man to WANT to ask ME on a date?!?! That's huge! That's exciting. 

I am nervous about disappointing OR really impressing someone. On one hand, if I disappoint him, then my self esteem will only diminish even further. I HATE disappointing others. On the other hand if I really impress him (or the opposite), is it gonna work or am I going to get hurt? What if it doesn't? 

This time around I have so many facets of life to consider: my son's feelings first and foremost; my stress load for all the court dates and debt smothering me at times; my job and its commitments; my role as a solo parent and having to arrange child care every time we want to go out; the list could go on and on. I'm worried the list will be too much for a new man. 

But I WANT to date someone again. I want to flirt and laugh and smile and get dressed up for him. I want to hear from him throughout the day. I want to feel his hand on the small of my back as he leads me through a doorway. I want to look him in the eyes and feel a connection. But I'm scared. And I feel a tinge of guilt. Almost like I'm cheating, but I KNOW deep down that I'm not. 

My marriage (according the law) legally ended on December 28, 2014, when "death do us part" happened. But I don't want to stop wearing my ring. I didn't get to pick this time. I didn't get to sign on the dotted line to make a choice of a dissolution of marriage. So I KNOW I'm not cheating, but sometimes I wonder if a new man might wonder that at times. Almost like I would be cheating on him with a ghost. I don't want that at all. I want a new man to feel like I'm WITH him because I want to be, but that it's totally ok to still love my husband too. I have a big heart; I have so much love to give. I didn't get to give it all. And isn't that what life is supposed to be about? Loving each other? 

So...I talked with Conner a couple nights ago because I wanted to tell him that I'm ready. I'm ready to meet someone to have fun with. Someone who will make me laugh. Someone who will make me feel cared for, respected, appreciated, wanted, and so on. 

Someone who will care about my son IF and WHEN the dating turns into a relationship. Someone who will NEVER try to be Conner's Dad, but rather a really good person who loves him too. Someone who will have patience and understanding and acceptance when I have a bad day. Someone who will always respect my space and will know and accept that I will never stop loving Mike. But that I also have enough room to love someone new too. It won't be replacing my love for Mike or replacing Mike at all, but will just be an added abundance of love for someone. I'm ready. 

So, for the time being, I will be open to dating. I will be open to being friends with someone first and making sure that we really care for each other before he meets my son. I will have fun and try my best to not take things too seriously but will spend my time really trying to get to know him. I will share my fears with someone and my likes and dislikes openly and honestly. I'm too old and scarred to do anything but. 

Prayers and blessings are appreciated from my family and friends and from my widow sisters (wisters) out there.  I love each and every one of you with whom I've made a connection these past 16 1/2 months. And to my family and close friends, thank you for the vote of confidence that I CAN breathe and live and laugh and love again. 

#stillhis

Love, Veronica  

He's 12 Now...

Yesterday was a mad mix of emotions and Con and I were both on that roller coaster unwillingly! Conner turned 12 yesterday and while I wanted to cry like a baby, I mustered the strength to smile and laugh and be energetic when our boy awoke. 

We grabbed McDonald's breakfast as a treat and I didn't even finish eating mine as the nerves were working overtime in my stomach. Our son was celebrating his second birthday without his dad. He hit his last birthday of being a pre-teen and he knew it, so he struggled with not having Mike here. 

Conner's day was filled with sneaking to the bathroom to text me (sorry to all of his teachers) and they were all similar: I wish he could be here, I love you mtw, mommy (more than words), I miss him, I love you, and so on in a repetitive fashion all day. He even went to the school counselor for a bit and he hadn't been in a while. 

But, we made it through school ok and then had dinner out before my high school athletic banquet. So we returned to school and spent the evening watching the dads in the crowd. Both of us did that. It's stupid, but it's what we did. And just when we thought that the night was about to a close, I received a text that yet again the cows were out and in the county road. Yay. 

So in a panic, and unable to leave the banquet, I began frantically texting people and when no one responded I texted my sister and my niece. I asked my sister to call our dad and luckily he was able to drive to the farm. At 8:45 at night. So by the time Conner and I arrived home, Dad was there and had moved part of the herd. 

By 9:45, all cows were behind fence somewhere (haven't looked this morning to see if they're still there and I really don't care at this point) and I was a hot mess of mascara and tears. I cried for the hour it took for me to drive from school and finish helping my dad with the cows. My eyes are puffy this morning and I'm drained yet again. 

Yesterday SHOULD have been a great day to celebrate our son and his amazing and incredible soul. But I ruined it with my blubbering mess at the end. And his dad's absence ruined it for Conner. I cried into my dad's chest as he held me tight in the kitchen. I had to pull away at one point because it was too reminiscent of Mike holding me tight in the kitchen.

I was just DONE. Done with the day. Done with my son not having a dad here. Done with cows. Done with having to ask fifty people for help. Done literally forcing myself to smile and laugh not only for our boy, but also for others. 

He is 12 now. I blinked and he is 12 now. And life is not fair for this amazing boy, but I'm trying my best to help him appreciate it anyway. 

Please think of all the things you have in your life that you need to appreciate, if you haven't done so lately. 

Blessings for the day to you all. 

#stillhis

NFAxI

Love,

Veronica