US

Driving home tonight a Sugarland song came on the radio. All of a sudden I am thrown back into a memory with Brad. Driving home from Destin to Panama City. 

We would go to Destin for a date or with the family every once in a while.  I love that little stretch of road between. 30-A is probably my favorite highway ever. It meanders through darling little beach towns and it's a perfect way to waste a day. We would talk and laugh on the drive. Stopping at whatever caught our eye.  Rosemary Beach saturday market, Seaside, Destin Commons, little beach boutiques, Panera Bread, Cold Stone and Dippin dots. (yes, two ice cream places. And usually Brad would say, ya, I want some ice cream when I would say we should stop and then he would tell me to order first and say that was just what he wanted and that he'd just have a bite of mine. (he wasn't a big treat guy, and I was (am) a sugar addict, so he would pretend to want a treat so I wouldn't feel like I shouldn't get one.) He was a bit of an enabler to my addiction :)

So driving home tonight, hearing that song, All of a sudden I'm driving on 30-A. Singing at the top of my lungs to the Sugarland cd. Him laughing at me and shaking his head. Saying  "you're  really happy aren't you". More a statement than a question - and repeating a line from one of the songs, 

"so when you count all your blessings do you get a smile on your face?"

And I grinned from ear to ear. 

He made me so happy. 

And I LOVE that he always knew he did. 

 It's not that I'm not happy now. I think that for the most part I am. It's just not the same and I don't think it ever will be. I won't ever know that same happiness until I am in his arms again.  Because THAT happiness , that complete and utter joy, in all the little things- my perfect joy with everything about my life was so completely entwined with Brad. It is not something I can separate from him.  It is the US that made me so happy. Not just the HIM, the US. I still have him. I know that like I know the sun rose today.

I still know there is still an US, just like before- but it's harder to find US than it is to find HIM. I know just exactly where he is. Us is harder because  we were both changed by being together . We were both better and happier and everything good about each of us was multiplied by a million when we were US . And i'm just stuck here being the me by myself. I sometimes have a hard time finding the me I was when I was with him. He made me so much better. 

Never have I been so comfortable and content and happy with another human being in my life. The only way I can describe it is saying it's like coming home. Everyone should know that feeling. It's like you are empowered beyond anything you could ever be on your own. You create something new when you come together. And because of it everything you wanted to do, together, or on your own, is easier and safer and you can be brave and just fly - because you are invincible together.  We both gave that to each other.  And I know that gift of being US is not gone, but it has to be different now; and I miss that us feeling every minute.

I just finished reading the book Sunset by  S. Michael Wilcox. In it he talks about feeling like he was just so inadequate and diminished without his wife. That 2/3 of him was missing. There was she, and him and them together. 2/3 of that was gone now.  When we are left with just ourselves it takes so much away from the full self we were before with our other half.

I am so grateful to have these moments that I feel just as I did before the accident. Where I feel like I did when we were US. The song moment was one. They usually make me cry but not out of sadness. I love having that welcome feeling of US. Brad made me feel like I could do anything in the world when we were US.  I guess now that familiar feeling can help give me strength to do the hardest thing I have ever had to do;

which is to be here without him.

North Shore

I can not see the ocean without thinking of Brad.  He proposed to me on the beach. We got married and moved a few days later to our home in Florida. Not right on the beach, but close enough that when I needed to see the ocean I wasn't further than about 15 miles away. We spent our first two years of marriage loving being near the ocean.  Our honeymoon was on the beach. We made a million happy memories being on the beach and looking out into that vast ocean.

Our  family trip to Hawaii this winter was very bittersweet - for lots of reasons.  Heading off to a beautiful beach with my precious girls and without their daddy was one of those reasons. Knowing we were going somewhere Brad had loved visiting, and had so badly wanted to take us someday was difficult.  We ended up having a great trip. And I know Brad was with us the whole time. But being near the ocean always makes miss him terribly.

I remember during this trip looking out on those beautiful waves and thinking that they reminded me a little of how grieving the loss of my sweet husband feels sometimes.

 A huge swell came in while we were there and we went out to the North Shore to watch the wonder of the waves. It was amazing to watch them. A photo just does not do them justice. They were the biggest waves I had ever seen. The red flags were placed right up by the sidewalk. The guards didn't even want you to touch the sand, let alone the water.  I watched those waves roll up a few crazy surfers who did not heed the signs. One was trying to get out of the water. He was only a few feet from the shore - maybe 5-10 feet at the most. He was trying to swim out, swimming with all his might and was literally not moving at all. Those waves were so big they broke a few times on the way in. They broke again right where water met sand and were just pounding this poor surfer right into the ground.  The water swirled around ferociously after the break and by the time he got his footing another wave was crashing on his head.

I remember thinking that I know what that feels like.

My grief is somewhat like the waves. There are times went I get rolled up by one of those huge waves and smashed right into the sand. There are also times when it's calmer. When it's just a gentle rolling and while I'm still feeling it, it's not forcing me under and sucking the life out of me.

Everyone always says that time heals. I don't know that I agree with that completely.  Time has definitely helped. I don't know that I would say that it heals. With the passage of time those huge waves seem less frequent. But they still come.  The smaller waves are more common now.  And that is a good thing.  My grief seems to ebb and flow like the tides do.  And it's constant. It changes in intensity. And I'm learning to be a better swimmer; but it is constant. It's always there, swirling underneath even on the calm days.

When I do get hit by a North Shore wave, I know that I'm not swimming out of it alone. There are so many tender mercies I have been blessed with. They are kindof like life jackets that help me keep my head above water.  The nearness of my sweet husband is the strongest of those.  Sometimes he is so close that I look around, sure I will see.  Although seeing would be good; I'll take being lifted up out of those huge waves and being placed in softer seas. That's what he does for me. Still.

TAPS

Our little family attended out first TAPS event last month. TAPS stands for Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors. TAPS provides support to all who have lost someone who served in the armed forces. I've been getting their magazine and emails for almost 4 years. I've always thought it would be good for us to go to an event, but it just never worked out.

One reason I thought it would be good for us to go was so we could be involved with a military event. (TAPS isn't specifically run by the military, but most of their volunteers are military and everything was held on base. The kids get to hang out with service men and women who volunteer to be their mentor for the camp)   The Air Force way of life was something that I really grew to love. I have missed it. I miss my kids being raised surrounded by it. I want them to know what their daddy did, and how much he loved it and WHY he did it. It's harder to teach that when you are removed from all things military.

  I was a little nervous to go actually. I didn't really know what to expect, but hey, we were going to the one in Hawaii, so if we didn't like it I figured we would just go to the beach instead.  It turned out to be much better than the beach.  It was just one day; but it was so good for all of us. The kids did their own thing - broken up into age groups. They got to meet kids who have all lost fathers. I got to meet other widows. It's amazing the instant bond you have with someone when you have that in common. It really did make me feel less alone. It was nice to be around someone who understood in a way that no one else can. It was heartbreaking to hear everyone's story; but it was very healing to be there together celebrating the fact that the people we love LIVED. That is more important then the fact that they died.

Daddy - Daughter

I told Sophie the other day that her dance class was having a daddy daughter party. I told her I could go with her, or Grandpa would love to go.  That she had lots of people who loved her and many people who would love to go.  

“So who do you think you want to ask to come?”

Sophie immediately replied with - “Well, Daddy is going to come with me.”

just matter of fact. Like it was a silly question.

She continued - “I can just explain to everyone in my class that my Daddy is in heaven, so that’s why he’s not playing the games. But that he is always with me.”

In my mind I was thinking a few things at once. That I LOVE this sweet little girl who teaches me about faith, and that I am so glad she knows her Daddy is close and would not miss this little dance party for the world.   I was also thinking that I can’t let her go into that party alone, because that would break my heart. I started to panic a bit, thinking about that.

She was quiet for a minute. And then she said, “ I guess you can come if you want to Mom. You can do the games with me.”

more silence.   and then...

“You know what Mom? I bet I’m the only one who gets to have a Mommy AND a Daddy that get to come. That’s Pretty cool.”

My sweet little Sophie.   Teaches me profound things.

Perspective

My birthday is on Veteran’s Day. It was the greatest day to have a birthday. Brad was always off work and I got to spend the whole day with him. I would wake to breakfast in bed - usually Brad’s famous French toast. (my favorite) He would have something amazing planned every year, little gifts from the kids, big A flowers, and he would clean the whole house spotless. (yes, I know, I was extremely spoiled) 

And all of this on a day that we should have been celebrating him as well. I remember a year in Florida when he was asking if it would be O.K. if he did a fly by at the parade - because, you know, it WAS my birthday and he wanted it to be all about me. Haha. It still makes me laugh when i think about it. - because it is just so like him to me more worried about others.  That was one of my funnest birthday memories - to get to cheer him on as his F15 four-ship flew by in perfect formation.  

He made my birthday’s unforgettable.  

And, for the past few years, unbearable without him. Last year I was thinking I had made peace with this day that my birthday falls on now. It’s kind of like “our” day, we can share it - but these past few days leading up to it I’ve been a mess. Overwhelmed and sad and pissed - and feeling bad for myself. Ugh! In a funk that I would try to shake off and just couldn’t.  

The first year was by far the hardest. I remember not even wanting to get out of my bed. My sweet sister gave me a beautiful necklace that first year. She had taken a card Brad had written in and his finger prints and , i don’t know how they did it, -  but I have this beautiful silver pendant that has Brad’s actual handwriting and print on it.

I love it. It makes me so happy to read it. I can look at that and see:

“I love you Beautiful, Eternally yours, Brad.”  

Reading that in his own handwriting helps me get perspective. 

eternity is a long time. and this life is but a moment. 

This separation will be but a moment.  

Perspective. 

When I have it; I’m good. I feel like I can do this. I’m a better mother, a better everything. I don’t feel like I’m sinking, and I don’t feel alone.

Lately, I’ve felt like I’ve been losing it a little. 

And, I know it’s because I haven’t been on a “date” with my husband for a while.  Since I moved back I’ve had a standing Wednesday date with Brad at the temple. (thanks to my amazing Sister in law Lisa who would take the kids for the day) 

I don’t think I realized how much this was helping me hold it together until the Ogden Temple closed - and Sophie started school - for a few hours in the middle of the day (kindergarten ruins your life)  :) so I couldn’t have my “day off” anymore.  

So, I had a much needed date with my husband today.   

And it was a good day.   

Nothing changed. Just tweaked the way I looked at it a bit.

Perspective renewed. 

I went in feeling a little sorry for myself and came out feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. I would not trade places with any of you schmoes :)   

Do you know how many people dream of finding their soulmate and having a family with him and loving every minute of every day they got to spend with him?  

I had that.  I HAVE that.  I’m good. 

Happy Veteran’s Day to my best friend. Thank you for the amazing birthday.

9-11

I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was driving to school (I taught 2nd grade) and I heard something on the radio about a plane hitting the World Trade Center. I had only been able to listen for a minute or two before I got to school.  I ran in and when I walked in the office the t.v was on in our principle's office. People were gathered around and saying how they just couldn't believe it....

and then the second plane hit.  It was only then that it was obvious it wasn't an accident.

I remember feeling scared and small. and wondering how I was going to help my little second graders be ok that day; when I was not ok.  That day was a blur. I could not hold back the tears when the towers fell. and I remember thinking I had to pull it together so these sweet little kids would not be more scared. I felt afraid in my own community for the first time.

So during that day what was the most important to you?
What became more important than anything else?
What worries fell away and no longer mattered?  

I know for me, nothing else mattered but my family and my faith. I just wanted to get home and hold my own sweet little second grader Tyler. I wanted to be with my family and make sure we were all o.k.  Every other worry fell away. They were no longer going to occupy my time. Time seemed much more precious.  It seemed silly that they were such a big deal in the first place.

One of the things that made me feel better was knowledge. So I watched the news and discovered talk radio. I wanted to know what was going on.  The amazing stories of heroism and survival; heartbreak and loss - I wanted to know it all. I remember thinking that it was very important for all of us to know about these men and women who lost their lives. That was the way we honor and remember them.

I didn't meet Brad until Oct 2002,   He came and spoke on Veteran's Day to my class that year.  He shared how he had always wanted to fly, and how he wanted to protect this great country that we all have the privilege of living in. Many of the student's asked him about the terrorist attacks the previous year. I remember being so impressed with how he talked to them. He had returned from Saudi Arabia a few months before - He patrolled the no fly zone over Iraq. (Operation Southern Watch)   He talked in terms they could understand (good guys, bad guys) He told them that was his job, to protect them from the bad guys. And that there were many, many men and women all around the country and the world "protecting them from the bad guys" And that the bad guys will never win.

I love this country that we live in.  I am so proud that I am the wife of a heroic man who spent his life defending it - and protecting us.   I Love when people recognize and remember his sacrifice.

So today, we remembered all those lost ten years ago.  we watched the reading of the names and I talked about it with my little girls.   Seeing those images of the towers smoking and people covered with ash brought back all those feelings from that day.  But remembering is good. I remember feeling afraid, and so sad for the families of those lost, (I never dreamed I would have something in common with them)   but I also remembered the amazing stories of heroism and hope.  The love of country and increased faith.

Today, at the dedication of the Flight 93 National Memorial, George W. Bush said,

"With the distance of a decade, 9/11 can feel like a part of a different era, but for the families of the men and women stolen...that day will never feel like history, America shares your grief, we pray for your comfort, and we honor your loved ones."


"One of the lessons of 9/11 is that evil is real, and so is courage,"





Bush said the 40 passengers and crew members left a legacy of bravery and selflessness which inspires America. "For generations, people will study the story of Flight 93," he said. "They will learn that individual choices make a difference, that love and sacrifice can triumph over evil and hate, and that what happened above this Pennsylvania field ranks among the most courageous acts in American history." 


"We have a duty to live our lives in a way that upholds the ideals for which the men and women gave their lives - to build a living memorial to their courage and sacrifice," 


a living memorial. I like that.  We are working on that every day.

Kindergarten

I'm missing you extra today. Sophie starts kindergarten tomorrow and whenever I think about it I want to cry.   It's a combination of many things - I'm a little in denial that she is old enough to go. When I had little babies at home it was easier to deal with the fact that I won't be having any more. As they grow up it seems like that hurt gets a little worse.   Also, I think about all the things she will miss doing with you. School lunch visits and programs, etc. etc. Dealing with little kids who don't understand; saying she doesn't have a daddy. (She actually handles this one really well. - But it is heartbreaking to me to hear her explain. - but simultaneously so proud that she says without hesitation - Yes, I do have a daddy! His name is Brad and he is in heaven. He is hero and he loves me so much!)

I remember you coming to Ty's school in your uniform with all your gear - for the Veteran's Day Program. You made the kids laugh their heads off with your "red face". I'm not sure what it's called when you do that  g-force breathing , but it was a HIT.  You explained all about being a pilot and how planes fly. ( teachers afterward were talking about how you explained lift to them on their level SO well, they wanted you to come teach that unit for them.)  I remember Ty sitting a little taller in her seat and being so proud of her cool daddy.     For some reason  the school memories with Ty  - choir concerts, plays, graduation ceremonies, awards programs, field day, ball games - are all stuck in my brain on repeat and It breaks my heart that Sophie won't have that.

I know this day would be so fun for you. And I know that you will be right here with us. I know I need to get a grip and stop torturing myself with thoughts about all  Sophie will miss out on.  I know I need to stop being pissed that the school deleted all your info I wrote down on her registration card. (It didn't seem right to leave you off, like you were some dead beat dad, when it asked for information about her father; so I put your information in and wrote deceased in place of a phone number.  - When they asked me to double check the info on Back To School night everything about you was deleted. I kindof wanted to go kick the secretary on the way out and ask her if it really would have been so difficult to Type Sophie's Father's name on that stupid little card...)

soooo.... obviously I'm struggling a bit with this one.

The funny thing is - I am a teacher by profession. Elementary.  I quit when Sophie was born.  I should be overjoyed at the thought of her going to school. I love school. I know she will love it.  (and with Addie in preschool I will actually have 2 hours of kid free time, 3 days a week. ) I won't know what to do with myself! I've already got a to do list that would realistically take me about 5 years to complete that I will be working on during that time.

So there are some things that will be fun about it.  Sophie is so excited to go. and I really am excited for her too... I'm just sad about not sharing it with you.

I read this quote the other day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain."

I guess it's been raining.  And so I'll just have to try to breathe,  resist the urge to kick the secretary, and wait this one out.