Love Always Wins { My Widow Motto }

Love Always Wins

{my widow motto}

Something in her eyes told you she had known unimaginable loss...

but those eyes also told you she has known unimaginable love.

Overwhelmingly beautiful, empowering love.

and love is bigger than loss.

LOVE Always WINS. 

always

I wrote these words sometime in the first year after Brad died. I wanted to remember them . I needed to read them. Reading them helped me focus on the good.  I do know that love is bigger than loss, and that love will always win...  but I needed a reminder often. 

When I started painting a few years ago, I painted two paintings for my daughters, and then I decided to start on a painting for me. I knew I needed to give those words a home. A place that I would see often and read and re-read on hard days. This painting was an attempt to give those words a pretty backdrop. One that would be colorful and joyful. But mostly, I just needed to get those words out of my notebook and up, because they helped me. It was like I could feel Brad right there when I read them... reminding me that he was not far away and that our love is still stronger than anything that can physically happen to us. 
This painting will probably always be my favorite.  

Something happened when I was working on this painting. There are lots of tears on her.. but many of those were happy tears. While I worked on her I discovered that painting made me unbelievably happy and that this was what I was supposed to do. This was what I needed to do. So I love this girl. 

She brought a happy passion into my life that I am so grateful for. 

And I also love that she talks about the love Brad and I share. 

And that THAT LOVE WILL ALWAYS win. 

This print is for anyone who knows what loss feels like... 
knows the emptiness and the ache and the fear...

 and needs to be reminded that their love really can can carry them through.

May 1st - A new day

May 1st is my least favorite day. This year I wanted to be a little more prepared.  I can always feel it coming and I struggle  for weeks before.

This year was a little different. Tyler had been out on her mission about 6 weeks. We were all still adjusting to her being gone and missing her. I knew that this year would be hard, partly because of that.

We have little rituals that help on that day. I always go to the temple. This helps me the most. We go as a family to the cemetery and do a balloon release. This has also been a good thing. The girls love sending letters up to daddy.

This year I wanted to add a little something different. I have some amazing widow friends who I get great ideas from all the time. I had seen online that some of them had gone around and done good deeds on anniversaries of difficult days. I LOVED that idea.  So, I started working on a plan for our upcoming horrible day.

We talked as a family {Sophie and Addie and I - our little family seems so small now... - side note - the other day while setting the table Addie said, "I wish there was still five of us." It broke my heart. But, I love that she knows that there really are five of us. That it seems like something is off because she's setting a place for only three.  I pray that each of my girls know that there are always five of us…but that we just don't all need a plate}

We talked about what we could do that would be special and meaningful on May 1st. We talked about how their amazing daddy went around doing good. I have saved countless emails and letters that people have sent telling stories about Brad. The common theme is that he served. He helped. He didn't wait to be asked, he just looked around and saw what needed to be done and got to work. And he was happy doing it. I feel so blessed to have been the recipient of so much of his goodness. He taught me more than I can put in words.  I am so grateful that the girls will get to read those stories and know this about their daddy.

I pitched them my idea about doing some good deeds. They were both excited. {although Sophie did express some concerns that I was going to "give away all our money" haha} They were excited about doing it for people they didn't know and having it be a surprise.

So we got to work. We printed up some cards that we could hand out with gift cards. For family night the girls wrote notes on the backs of those little cards.

After school on May 1st we got busy with our 

"Do a Good Deed Day" 

We went around buying food for people at the drive through and giving out gift cards… We talked about how doing something nice for someone else might help us not be so sad today. 

And I have to say 

IT WORKED.   

It really was so fun.

 {& just so you know, fun and May 1st are words I never thought could ever belong in the same sentence.}   

The girls were so excited, watching the different cars behind us, knowing that they were going to get a  little surprise. They were giddy when we were driving away. Sophie loves to "spy" She's created her own spy club and loves being sneaky. She said this was like a "nice spy day" and she loved it. 

It sounds cliche, but choosing to do something besides think about our pain helped so much.
Other May 1st's I've just let myself be swallowed up in the pain of everything that I lost on this day.
Other May 1st's I have barely been able to function.

After reading about my widow friends doing this I knew it was something that could change this day for us.  I needed it to not be about me. It needed to be about something bigger.

Making it a day that we do good things in honor of Brad completely changed everything.

I was hesitant to post about what we did because - I don't know- It seemed strange to write about doing something for someone else. But, If my friends who did this wouldn't have posted about it, I probably would not have thought to do it on my own… so I decided to share.

This year our May 1st was completely different. 

There were still lots of tears shed. 

But some of those this year were happy…

Happy tears watching my girls be SO excited about giving gifts.
Happy tears knowing that Brad would be happy with what we did with this day.
Happy tears for all the family and friends who reach out and help. Our day was filled surprise treats dropped by the house, gifts on the porch and encouraging notes, texts and messages. Every note and like on facebook was noticed and appreciated. I am so grateful for people who let us know that they remember. It's funny the way it works out. We always seem to get so much more than we give.

This year our May 1st was transformed. 

I think we have a new tradition.

In honor of Major Brad Funk

{looks like the guest of honor showed up as well}

six years closer to you my boy

We Love You

Tyler's Song…6 years

Six years.

Instead of focusing on the sad…. or the loss.

Focus on the LOVE. 

Because no time, no distance, nothing exhists in the world that can change OUR love.

It's mine and Brad's. And it's still growing and we are both actively still giving and receiving that love.

It is part of my physical makeup now.

And the real interesting part of our story….. is not the loss too soon, or the hard parts.
The real story in my life that is worth sharing is the LOVE STORY.

And that is still being written.

Everything I do now, Brad is a part of. I can feel him cheering me on and whispering that he's close. and that he loves me and that he's proud. I can feel his influence in our home and with our girls. I can feel him tell me he loves me…. 

And today - that love makes me feel exactly the same as it did before Brad's death. 

It makes me feel like I can do anything with him by my side. And my sweet husband is good at reminding me that he is still by my side. 

Tyler is a little musician. She wrote a song a few months ago that I thought would be fitting to share today. 

{and I get to brag for a minute…. because she is not here to get mad at me for doing it…}

Ty took some words that I wrote and stuck on my bathroom wall to help me remember some important things. {I shared them in this post}  She took those words. That were not a song - or poetry, or even close to it...and turned them into a beautiful song. {I still told her I get a song writing credit though :) } 

She wrote the music - for guitar and piano, and all the harmonies and arranged them all… basically, she is brilliant and amazing.  I will never forgot when I got a little video text she sent from school of her playing this song for the first time… I was in awe of her and cried lots of happy tears.   One of my favorite memories of this year was going with her and getting to listen while she recorded some of her music. (this is the 2nd song she has ever written by the way…)

{I made a video so I could upload it to youtube…basically, because I didn't know how to get just the song on here. - so enjoy some cute pics of my extra sexy husband while you listen.}

2013

New Year.

I've been looking back over 2013 and realizing a few things. 2013 was a big year for our little family. We had lots of changes. {most of which I was dreading}

I remember at this time last year being overwhelmed even thinking about everything that would happen this year. Ty would graduate and go away to college. She would probably have a mission call. We were going on a trip of a lifetime to Europe. My baby would start Kindergarten. Sophie would turn 8 and get baptized. All the changes that I could think of that would happen in our family seemed even larger because of the fact that Brad would not be there for them. And every one of them brought me to tears when I thought about it. They were all good, exciting things. But the thought of doing them without Brad seemed a bit - well, unbearable.

So here is the interesting thing.  Each big huge thing came. {and I remember feeling overwhelmed a bit at the time} but each thing was a good happy thing for our little family. They weren't horrible and they weren't sad.

And Brad was able to let me know with each big overwhelming change,
that he was right there with me.

That he was not missing it.

and that I was not alone.

And THAT changed each big thing into a new little miracle. And a new way for me to SEE the Lords hand in my life... and to see that we were not alone, but being LED along...

So I guess the main thing that I learned this year was that no matter what seemingly overwhelming thing is going on in our life…

instead of dreading it,

I will be on the lookout for those tender mercies that show me that my sweet husband is right here with us every step of the way.

Pretty Amazing Year. 

On It's Own

Today marks 5 1/2 years since Brad's death.

It's interesting how the passage of time changes things.
{and how it doesn't}

I remember having a physical "flinch" on every 1st of every month. Another month without Brad. I was always counting. Hours, days, months.  Sometimes it's hard to believe that I'm counting years now.

I remember being really sad when it was the first new year. I did not want 2009 to come. Thinking that Brad died "last year" was something that made him seem so far away.

You also reach a time where people act like you are supposed to be ok. You are expected to move on and get over things. I'm not sure what time frame that is... or who decided that,  but I do know that no one who has lost someone significant in their life ever says that. {some days I'm extra grateful for those people who get that you don't "move on"...}

At the beginning, I hated the passage of time.  As time passed Brad felt further away and people felt that I should be "adjusting". I wanted time to stop all together. Because my whole world had stopped. I was literally angry and offended that the world kept spinning.

For a long time I thought that holding on to Brad meant holding on to all this pain that came with losing him. I think I held on to my grief with all my might. I clung to it. Wore it like a badge of courage. It was my little partner and I got pretty comfortable with it.

The thing that was the scariest to me - my worse nightmare, was that time would pass and Brad would start to feel far away. And that me healing meant that I would lose that connection I had with him. That I would start to look at our life together and it would feel like a dream. That it wasn't real. I remember praying that I would remember every little detail of our life together.  For a while, clinging to my grief was how I tried to fight off the passage of time. How I tried to keep him close.

My sweet husband has always been very patient with me. {he had, "the patience of Job" my dad would say :)}  He has been patient with me while i've been learning some important lessons.

I remember feeling and knowing that he was so close in the days following the accident. And being terrified that that feeling would go away.  I was scared the feeling would go away when he was buried, or when we left our beautiful home we shared and moved back to Utah. I was scared that feeling would go away as time passed. And all the while, my sweet patient husband has been able to reassure me that he's not going anywhere.

And I think he's finally gotten a new lesson through my thick head. And that lesson is this:

That the love I feel from him {and for him} does NOT have to be accompanied by the intense pain and sadness I feel from losing him.

The love exists ON IT'S OWN.

It's not tied to any of the pain...
so I'm working on letting that part go.

It's a process I will probably deal with forever. But now instead of clinging to that grief and feeling that it is what makes Brad feel close. I am feeling good about letting it go.

It probably sounds simple. But it's a big perspective shift for me.

I'm focusing on remembering that being loved by this amazing man changed me.
And that it still is.

one day closer to you.
I love you my boy.

A new Yes

“You have to decide what your highest priorities are and have the courage

—pleasantly, smilingly, non-apologetically,

 to say “no” to other things. 

And the way you do that is by

 having a bigger “yes” burning inside.  

Stephen R. Covey

About 4 years ago I went to a Time Out for women. I remember listening to a speaker and he was talking about dreams and goals. He asked us to make a list of things we wanted to accomplish in the next  five or ten years. So I started writing. He then said to look at our list and take off the items that are about our husband and our children. He explained that this list was supposed to be just goals for us.  I sat there and stared at my notebook and started to sob. I remember being mortified about it and trying to find a way to sneak out.

Brad had been killed less than a year earlier. I was still in survival mode. Not thinking much more than a few days ahead. That was all I could deal with. So being asked to think 5 or 10 years down the road was not just overwhelming, but heartbreaking for me.  My whole life was different than what I ever had planned or imagined. 

I kept trying to think of something to write. I could think of things that I wanted to learn, places to visit or fun things to go do... but they all seemed very superficial to me. Not worthy of a long term goal.

Brad not being physically here changed everything. See, we were supposed to have 4 or 5 kids, explore the world together and raise our little family. Teach and laugh and learn together. And someday when our kids were grown we were supposed to retire together and sit on our porch holding hands. 

Every dream, every hope I had for my life could not exist without him.

That feeling I had that day has been a hard one for me to process. I've been working on it for years. Coming to terms with having to change all your hopes and dreams is hard.  And trying to find new ones....

 well, for me, that was even harder. 

Obviously, my girls are my greatest joy. I feel so privileged to be their mother. They are my first and most important priority. And they always will be.  But I could see the value in having goals and dreams of my own. Because one day I would be on my own. And I needed to be able to be happy with that.  I needed to find something that I loved to do. Something that I was passionate about.... 

I kind of always knew what it was. It's kind of always been there. This little dream. Just waiting patiently to be let out.  It was something that was never practical so I just ignored it. But when I asked myself, What would I do if I could do anything in the world?

 That little dream jumped up and yelled. 

So I knew what it was long before I dared to do anything about it. It makes me sound really wimpy, but I THOUGHT about starting on that little dream for years... but I didn't even dare say it aloud. (because it sounds kind of goofy) and i didn't ever dare actually START it, because, well, I hand no idea HOW to do it....

So fast forward a few years and I'm sitting at a retreat for military widows in Seattle. We are all talking and Taryn, (founder of American Widow Project) asks me what I'm passionate about. What I want to DO with my life. And I start talking about my beautiful girls.... and she says, ok, but what about YOU? What do you want to do? And you know, that little dream just spilled out. Maybe it was because I was with a bunch of people I just met, and may not see again so i wasn't afraid of what they thought?  Maybe it was because I felt like they "got it" {other widows are really good at "getting it"}

I told them, "Someday I'm going to be an artist."  

And you know what? they didn't laugh -  They didn't say well, that's a nerdy dream.  They didn't ask why or what is so special about that? 

But they did say one important thing, 

 WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? 

{and they didn't buy my big plan about not being able to do it till Addie was in school all day or figuring out how to fit college into my life}

I came home inspired and signed up for my first art class in my life.

{did I add that I had zero skills to go along with this little dream?}

That was last summer. Over this past year I've been having fun playing with paint. And I've figured a few things out. The most important thing being that I LOVE doing this. I can not believe how happy it makes me. I really am feeling so grateful that I've found something that I love to do so much. And it has come at the perfect time in my life. I was dreading my baby starting school and I was REALLY dreading my sweet Tyler moving away to college.  It sounds dorky, but being able to go down in my little art cave has really helped me deal with all those changes. 

I used to be nervous to show my work to anyone. I thought I would be hurt if people didn't love it. But, I've found that I'm not concerned about that anymore. I don't really care if anyone else likes it, or if I ever sell a painting.  I ABSOLUTELY LOVE every second spent creating these little works of art. and that, I've decided is what matters.

So if you can't find me I'm probably in my basement jamming to Spotify, covered in paint. And maybe a few happy tears might be sneaking out,  because I found a new Yes. 

p.s. I'm saying no to cupcakes.

p.p.s. If you need Brad that's where he'll be as well.

Five years

Today marks five years since Brad's death. That is crazy to me. Five years sounds like a long time. And it's weird because it seems like a lifetime ago and also just yesterday all at the same time.

I remember very vividly walking in my bed room to get Addie who was six months old at the time of Brad's death. Probably a day or so after. (those days are all kind of a blur,  they all run together)
I remember saying to myself - "my life is over." Just matter of fact. Not trying to be overly dramatic, but stating what was obvious.  Not only did I not want to be here without Brad, but I really didn't believe that I would be able to exist without him. I felt like half of me was literally missing and I didn't see how I could possible survive that way for long.

Now that I am looking back on the last five years instead of living it I've noticed a few things. It is interesting to see the progression.   All the different phases that you go through. I think I was in shock for about 2 years. Just attempting to function and not much else. I remember feeling like an actor in a movie. Pretending everything is fine because that was the only way I could function.  

I think in those five years I went through every phase multiple times. Feeling like I was finally getting a handle on this grief, only to be swallowed up by it the next day.  

Grief , I've found, is frustrating like that. Good one minute, total nut job the next.

I remember thinking, "I will never be happy again." Sure I would smile and laugh occasionally, but I would never really be happy. Not until I am with Brad again.   And that's not a very fun thought. Spending your life, just hoping time passes quickly so we could be together again... not much comfort in that for me. Not really a life, to be honest.

Well, one thing that has been a pleasant little surprise - is that I've been feeling happy lately.  It was honestly something I didn't expect.  And it's not really something I can explain. It's not that the pain of losing Brad is gone... or even bearable on hard days... And I still don't know that I will ever have a "fullness of Joy" without Brad physically by my side. But somehow, there is a calm, peaceful power that comes from being loved by my sweet husband. Somehow, knowing that he is there; and not just on the hard days or the special occasions, but Always.  That knowledge and what it means is finally sinking in. And it's changing me. Empowering me.  And I don't feel alone. Because I'm not alone.  And with that knowledge,  I can be happy here and now.

I am also learning that the powers of heaven are not bound by human logic. 

Elder Wirthlin gave a talk in the first General Conference after Brad’s death. In it he speaks about The principle of compensation: 

“That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."

I had never heard of (or payed attention too) the principle of compensation. It hit me like a ton of bricks while listening to this talk - that it was true. That the things our family would miss because Brad was taken would be made up for. I initially thought that meant it would be made up for in heaven - when we were all together again... but I have seen over the years the blessings pouring out upon us.

 The  powers of heaven are not bound by human logic.  If you are in a situation where it doesn't make logical sense for you to EVER be happy, or even be ok. Where it doesn't make sense for you to be able to heal- 

That doesn't matter. 

Because the Lords power is not bound by what our human mind can comprehend. 

Many times I've felt the spirit whisper that everything will be ok. And many times I've felt my sweet husbands presence and he has said that it will be ok- and not just ok, but good . And that someday I will understand. And I used to argue - I'd say - well I don't see how that can ever really be true. I don't see how it will be ok for our kids to grow up without their wonderful daddy, and for my littlest girls to not even have an earthly memory of their father . I don't see how that can ever be ok- and how they won't get gipped.  and I don’t see how I will ever be ok - being here without you...

One of my biggest sadnesses was having my children grow up without the influence of their amazing father - but that is already being  compensated for. Somehow, miraculously, my little girls have memories of their daddy. They know him and have a relationship with him. All my girls recognize when he is near.  They are influenced by him and he teaches them. I know he protects us . Somehow Brad is able to provide for, comfort, teach and bless his family - from the other side of the veil.

I know we will all still continue to have things we miss out on by not having Brad physically here with us - and those things are difficult and heartbreaking at times... but I have seen a little glimpse of the way Heavenly father is miraculously compensating for this already -  and it teaches me to not despair about those sad things - but to have faith that the Lord will do what He says He can do.

 I don’t pretend to understand how it works , but I have complete faith that my girls will not be gipped out of having a daddy.  I may not see the interaction, but he influences them, protects them and helps them in many ways I can not. 

I know my Savior is there, and that I can call on him. I feel like he has been lifting me up and carrying me around and steadying me every day for the past five years. And the power you get from the atonement - it’s not just a nice idea. it’s not just a warm ,fuzzy, happy thought, that you think about . You have the ability to tap into a literal power that nothing in the universe is stronger than. Every person on this earth has the ability to use that gift - even if we don't understand how it happens.

And THAT gift is what makes us happy...

searching

After Brad died I used to have the most horrible, crushingly sad dream. 

In the dream I had just lost Brad again.  

Throughout the whole dream I was running all over looking for him and I could never find him. 

People I would pass would say, "he just went that way." "he just passed by." "he's just around the corner up ahead."   

and I would follow the trail but he was always just out of sight up ahead. 

I would wake up sobbing. Never having found him. 

I am so grateful I no longer have that dream.

  

And I think I know why I don't. 

Because I have finally learned how to find him again.

and he is right here with us. 

Always.

He is with us everyday.

I can feel him laughing with us and crying with us. 

I can feel him holding me up and steadying me and helping me to do this.

I am still missing him every minute. 

But I am no longer searching for him

Because he is here.  

Fancy Valentines

So it's safe to say that Valentines day is no longer one of my favorite holidays. to be honest, it pretty much blows now. And each year it is a hard day and it seems like I miss Brad more on that day than others....(didn't think that was possible, but I guess it is.)  

so this year I definitely wasn't excited about valentines day approaching, but - I don't know, I just didn't want to hate it this year. I didn't want to be sad and eat chocolate and buy crap I don't need. (those are all things I have participated in QUITE A BIT on previous Valentine's days)

So this year I decided that I would not be sad.  I really didn't know if I could just DECIDE that, but I was going to give it the old college try.  (now, I'm not saying I can just decide not to be sad everyday - so please don't expect that from me ;), but I just don't want to be sad on THIS day anymore.  - tomorrow I may not get out of bed....I  still reserve that right.

I decided to try to make it all about the girls. We planned a Fancy Nancy Valentines dinner (I totally ripped that idea off from my cute sister)  We dressed up and ate all the favorites. (mac and cheese, stovetop stuffing (Addie's favorite - she snuck half the bowl before dinner ever started :) some heart pizza and about 4 desserts.   And it was crazy fun. We laughed and acted all fancy. Got out the stem glasses that I don't believe I have used since Brad died. Grandma joined us, and that was so fun. The little girls loved it, and Ty, ever the good sport, pulled out one of her dance dresses and took dress up to a whole new level.

and sitting here tonight , it's kindof surprising me - because I really didn't have a harder day than normal.  It may sound dumb, but other Valentines days I have not even wanted to get out of bed, or function - so that is a big deal for me.

I'm not sure what is different this year. But I do know that I am learning a little secret. Brad is always close. He is always close when I need him. When I have rough night, or day, or month. But he is also always close when we are happy. And I know that seeing us happy makes him happy. and sometimes I can just FEEL that - him being happy.  It's one of the greatest gifts he can give me. Today was one of those days.  I love that our little party made him happy.  And I love that I'm still learning about how much he influences us and how often he is here -  that he can be physically gone - but oh, so close at the same time. It's kindof a miracle.

10 Years

10 yrs ago this last weekend I met my soul mate.  

And he changed everything.  

I've been thinking about that magical little weekend 10 years ago a lot over this past month.

Thinking about the totally random miraculous way we even met. (blind date, set up by someone I had met, I think once, about 10 yrs earlier.)

Thinking about talking to Brad on the phone the night before our date - and how easy everything was. He made me laugh and he listened. And I remember thinking, "please, please , please don't be a total mutant. Please don't be 7 inches shorter than me and please be at least a little cute, because I kindof already like you  - and that's kindof a big thing for me.

I remember driving down to meet everyone in Salt Lake and being really nervous and feeling like something big was coming.

I remember he took me flying.  I thought his pilot lingo on the radio was about the sexiest thing ever.

We hung out and talked in my car after the date for a few hours. (we really were just talking people, get your minds out of the gutter)  He told me about his job (that he loved) and his family (that he loved more) and what he wanted out of life.  And the thing that impressed me most about him was that he listened to me. He wanted to know all about Ty and teaching and my family. He wanted to know about things that actually matter.  And just by talking to him I realized the other thing that I loved most about him. That he was good. He knew what he believed and what kind of person he wanted to be. He wasn't overbearing, but he didn't apologize for wanting to live the way he did.

I had some pretty giant walls built up and I guess you could say I had some trust issues when it came to dating. I wasn't about to put myself out there or get my hopes up about a guy I barely knew.  So when he said "I'll call you tomorrow and is it Ok if I stop by on my way back to Idaho?"  I remember thinking that I really hoped he would, but I wouldn't be planning on it. And it was conference weekend, so I wouldn't be getting out of my sweats or combing my hair hoping some guy would show up only to have him not even call.  So the next day when Brad called and said he was on his way I'm pretty sure I had time to brush my teeth and that was about it.

He met Ty and met my family. I remember watching him talk to them and loving that he treated them like they were the most important people in the world. (I soon learned that he treated everyone like that)

And that night I walked him out to his car and he kissed me. And it didn't matter that my sister and Tyler (I mean, my horrible sister and horrible daughter) were peeking through the window and mocked me mercilessly when I came back in the house - because it was one of those movie kisses where music plays in your head and your knees go weak.   One of those kisses where you feel like you are finally home. And finally safe.  I felt all of that that night.  But it would take some time and convincing before my mind would believe it.  It was like somewhere deep down my spirit was saying - Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you.

I remember mustering up enough courage to say - "This was fun, you should call me next time you are in town." (that was about as forward as I was capable of being)  

And I remember Brad smiling and saying, "Oh, I think I'll be calling you before that." 

And he called every day after that.  

And that was the beginning.

He took me flying that first night. And has been teaching me to fly since.

Bikes & Milestones

I remember a few years ago Brad's brothers family was in town and I walked outside to Uncle Lance teaching Sophie how to ride... running up and down the sidewalk with her and she was having a blast. It kindof took my breath away to see it because it was like seeing the picture I had in my head of what Brad would look like teaching them acted out in front of me. I was overcome with all these emotions simultaneously: happy and grateful that they have amazing uncles who step in and do dad things, heartbroken and a little pissed that she doesn't get to learn this from her dad, combined with the unmistakable feeling that Brad brings when he is present. I'm not sure how to describe that - but the word miraculous combined with overwhelming love come to mind.  He showed me without a doubt that he was there. All these feelings all at once were a little overwhelming and I was starting to lose it. I ran in to get my camera and was happy for the chance to try to compose myself. I didn't want them to think I was upset and I figured my tears would be misunderstood.    I got it together and came back and took photos.  It is now a sweet memory.

That was probably 2 and a half years ago.

Since then I have struggled with teaching them to ride. Sophie is 6 1/2 and Addie is almost 5. They should be zooming around on their bikes like other kids their age - but I have some sort of mental block when I think about teaching them. I have used the excuse that we live on a busy road to distract them when they want to go practice. I'm not sure why, but it just makes me so sad that Brad isn't here to teach them. I have to gear up for it emotionally each time and usually I just try to avoid it. It's also just another one of those milestones - doing something for the first time. I am getting a little better about dealing when we have a milestone, but there is always a bittersweet undertone because I am celebrating it without Brad.

 Last spring I decided that I would make myself help them learn by summer's end.  I got them balance bikes and we started going on walks so they could pratice. We have had a very busy (and Fun!) summer so we really have only practiced a few times.

Last week Sophie picked up her cousins bike and just started riding.
It was so great!
(and there were a bunch a people around, so that helped me keep it together.)
 She was SO excited and proud of herself.
She just kept riding and riding and it dawned on me that Brad was probably running around that tennis court with her just like he would have been if he were physically here.

Today I took the training wheels off Addie's little bike and she was riding alone after 30 seconds. (but probably not really alone)

We went for our first Funk family bike ride and I got to feel that beautiful feeling that Brad brings when  he comes. And for the first time I didn't feel sad about a milestone. I snapped pictures and didn't even think about crying. He was so obviously, tangibly "here" with us.

It really was a Funk FAMILY bike ride.

I will remember that feeling the next time 

I am sad because he is "missing" something. 

Because it is a miracle.

widow

Widow.    When I  realized that at age 33 that title applied to me - it made me physically sick. I completely rejected that word and everything that it stood for.   I never refer to myself as a widow. (it's ironic that my blog has this word in the title. - really I've always really liked the "might" part of that and not so much the "widow".)

When I  would hear the word widow I used to think of an older lady - that needed help and probably elicited pity from me.   I thought of her in scriptural terms. Someone I should serve and help; but I certainly didn't want people to think of me when they heard that word. I was trying pretty hard not to be pitiful and I hated that word that would illicit pity immediately from everyone who heard it.

I remember clearly the first form where I had to erase the check I had placed next to "married" and check the "widow" box instead. I wanted to cry. for lots of reasons. and being given that unwanted title was one of them.

Even after 4 years I would still kindof flinch involuntarily when I heard it.

Until I read this....

(I copied this from my soon to be friend Taryn Davis' blog - She started the charity American Widow Project. She is a military widow and when I read this it really just changed everything that I felt about being referred to as a widow. )

"When Michael was first killed I remember sitting there thinking, 'Does this mean I have to be a widow?!'.

Our society had put such a stigma on the word, that any chance in me feeling the need to embrace it was pretty slim.

I even had people telling me not to call myself that.

"Widow" was a title that had everything going against it in the sense of embracing it.

But I remember, one evening, in the first few months after his death, thinking of the pride I had when standing next to him and hearing him introduce me as his wife.

I felt unstoppable. I felt that the world was mine to conquer. I felt that with him by my side and the title of his wife...that all in the world was right.

It was in thinking of that feeling that I knew I had all reason in the world to feel the same as his widow.

That title represents his sacrifice.

That title represents my sacrifice.

And that title, due to the fact that I am still here to say I am the widow of Michael...represents my survival.

I know it is easier sad than done to embrace a word that for centuries has been shunned and put in a negative light, but when I think of that glowing feeling in my heart when I stood next to him as his wife, I quickly let the notions of others fall to the wayside as the same feeling sweeps over me as I introduce myself as his widow.

You earned this title with every ounce of love you share with them. You earned this title with every day you decided to get up and inhale and exhale after their passing. You earned this title for being an example for all those that will come after you and will be asking the same question on why they should embrace a word...and then they see how you have lived...and suddenly know why.

So be proud.

Being a widow is title worth sharing."




She perfectly describes the pride and happiness that I felt when I was referred to as Brad's wife. So i'm going to attempt to feel that same way when i say 

I am the proud widow of Maj. Brad Funk. 

I will be proud of this...

(isn't he a total babe!)

and this...

and even this. 

I love you my boy. You make me proud every minute. 

Air Show

 I have a love hate relationship with Memorial Day weekend. I love that people remember and honor Brad more than on your average day. But it's also an emotional roller coaster weekend for me. I usually get a little pissed, missing my old memorial days spent with my sweet husband.   I'm usually grateful and a bit angry, sad, lonely, happy and proud all at the same time. It kind-of wipes me out. I never realized until I lost Brad how draining emotional roller coaster days can be.

This weekend our good friends came up to stay with us and go to the air show. We met them while we were in Florida and, while we don't see each other a ton; it's one of those friendships that just picks up where it left off.  I love seeing them. They remind me of my perfectly blissful days with Brad in Florida. They were in town for the airshow. Amanda  had asked if that was something I would be interested in going to - I love that she is sensitive enough to know that it would probably be something that was hard for me, but still asked just the same.  I told her that we would love to go and that it would be much more fun going with them.

I was trying to mentally gear up for it all weekend. It's funny how even the littlest reminders of my old life with Brad kindof knock the wind out of me. On the night they arrived in town the sight of Jeremy's patch filled green bomber jacket on my front room floor caused me to catch my breath a little. And flooded back memories of Brad in his identical jacket.

Flightsuits are the worst. I rarely go to base and have to mentally gear up when I do. It's mainly because flightsuits are everywhere. A guy had one on in Costco one day and I was not prepared to see it. I was walking around bawling like a crazy person and trying not to hyperventilate.  I LOVED Brad in his flightsuit. He was so sexy in it. I would tell him so every time he wore it - which was everyday. I would make this little whistle sound and tell him that he was SO hot and would he please turn around?  He would laugh and say that I was nuts. But I know he loved it. On mornings when he was on earlies he'd leave about 4:30 a.m. He'd come say prayers with me and kiss me goodbye and tell me he loved me while I was still in bed. I would make that little sound while he was walking away and he'd laugh the whole way out to the car.

(yes... I know. Feel free to drool. It's impossible not too)

So Saturday we went to the airshow. Walking in all these memories came flooding back. Being out on the flightline, seeing the jets, kissing Brad after his 1000 hrs in the Eagle, fini-flights. The last photos we have of Brad are at Red Carpet day at Sheppard two weeks before the accident. He ran around with 2 yr old Sophie and showed her the jets. He loved that one of her first words was "umplane" which quickly evolved into "daddy umplane" anytime she would hear a jet overhead. She was certain that every one of those was her daddy. (and sometimes it was.)   Addie was 6 months old and I followed them around in the stroller while he put her in the cockpit and hung her from the nose. Sophie was having a blast. I love that memory. I am so grateful we went that day. But it made my heart hurt thinking about it on the flightline on Saturday.

I used to have an almost panic attack when I was around things that brought memories flooding back like that. It's getting better, but I still have to remind myself to breathe. There was a point on Saturday when I was starting to lose it and I was scolding myself. WHAT was I thinking coming here? Why was I putting myself through this? I missed him and our old life so much I couldn't breathe. The panic attack was coming on...

And then I looked at our girls.

The little girls were so excited to be there. They wanted to see Daddy's plane, so we walked first over to the F15's. Sophie walked all around and touched it everywhere she could. We lifted her up as high as we could get her so she could touch as much as possible. They were jets from Mountain Home AFB, so she was excited when I told her that Daddy had been stationed at that base.   Sophie wanted to know  what each plane was and what it did. Both she and Addie waited in line to try on the pilot gear. (which made me laugh because we have all of it at home..helmet, g-suit, gloves, vest, boots, the whole thing.)

They had a big bin of free plastic jets. I got to watch Ty explain to the little girls what type each one was and what they did.  Addie sat out with me while the Thunder Birds performed and loved it. She kept asking, " Is daddy's plane louder and bigger and faster than those? And I would say yes and smile because I KNOW Brad LOVES that she knows that.

So this is why we come. I want my girls to be so proud of what Brad did. I want them to gain an understanding and appreciation of what the Air Force does. And what it takes to be a pilot in the Air Force. It's the tip of the spear. The best of the best. I want them to know how much their daddy loved flying and loved serving his country. It makes me sad that Sophie and Addie don't get to experience it first hand through Brad like Tyler did; but I will teach them about it the best that I can.

So we will go to air shows and I will force down that panic attack by watching our beautiful girls.


We had a fun BBQ today with my amazing family and wonderful friends. My mom worked her butt off to make darling patriotic desserts in honor of Brad.

And tomorrow we will go to the cemetery and I will NOT hate this day. We will celebrate this amazing man whose love still carries me, calms me and reminds me what is really important.

We will celebrate our HERO.

 Major Brad "Gyro" Funk.