Month: March 2017

I haven’t written much lately and I was trying to figure out why. I realized that I was falling into that trap of thinking that I wasn’t supposed to be sad. Maybe by now I should only be sad occasionally? One sad post a month? Then I remembered that no one gets to dictate when I am sad or happy or how long I grieve. So I’m feeling a little sad, and that’s okay.

I put a caption on the picture I attached but I’m not sure if it is showing up. This is my picture of contentment, me sleeping peacefully next to him. I miss that feeling of being loved. I know, lots of people love me. That’s not what I mean. No one loves me in the way that Patrick did. I wouldn’t expect anyone to. The love of a parent, child, sibling, friend…it’s just not the same as the love of a spouse or partner. The feeling is that no matter what happens it’s going to be okay. You’re together and that’s really what matters most. Money’s tight, no problem. Work sucks? It’s just a job. I could walk around the house in my sweats with messy hair and I still knew I was loved. We always had each other, and then the girls and always our families.

I still have the girls and our families and I am eternally grateful for that but it doesn’t replace the hole in my heart and that feeling of security. I remember many times in our relationship when difficult things happened. I was laid off from a job and he was there to support me and tell me we would be okay. September 11th, the world was a scary place, but we were together. I have a hard time even explaining how secure my world was before I lost him. It’s still just so hard to fathom that he is gone and a little bit of that security went with him. After almost 30 years as part of “we” it is really hard to adjust to being “me”. The pain comes less often now but it will always be there.

I finally ordered the headstone. It will take a few months to be finished but I am glad that I was able to get it done. I hope that I was able to capture what I wanted so that if people stop by they will remember him with a smile.

The other day I was going through a cabinet and I found a box with bluegrass music and other items. And there were pictures that I didn’t know were in there!

I especially like the picture with the striped shirt. That eventually became his lawnwork shirt and it is still hanging in the garage. I also started looking through other pictures to try to capture that feeling of security and contentment and I found these:

I know the last one is a little blurry but they all remind me of that feeling. The first is the day we came home from our honeymoon and I’m holding our nephew, Gabe. The next is at an Aetna Christmas party and the last is from a trip to magic mountain, probably the second summer we were dating.

This picture is just because he is so cute! 

I really could look at this picture all day because that is exactly how I remember him. And I got this look often! That’s my guy!

This post seems a little incomplete but that’s okay too. I got out a little of the sadness and the pictures made me smile!

Family is the glue that holds me together. They are always near, always checking on me, always loving me. And I know that all of them would do anything to take my pain away. I know it’s been hard for my parents especially. My Dad has told me repeatedly that if I need him he will drive over from the coast and I know he’s serious because he’s done it before.

My mom lives in town now and I’m grateful for that. A few months ago I mentioned that I was taking some shrubbery off my fence and she told me she had the perfect garden tools for that and her and Ernie could come do that. She is 75 and he is 92! Since it rained for so long we never got around to it but she never forgot.

Today she wanted to get mulch that the city was giving away. I went with her so she could get my allotment also. By the time we got there it was almost gone so they were no longer using the front loaders to put it in your truck. We hadn’t brought shovels but they had some there so she backed the truck in and we got out. Three months ago I am confident there is no way I could have shoveled mulch into her truck. I have never been strong and I would have tired out quickly. I was very happy that I could actually do this! There was only one shovel so I grabbed it and got to work. I told mom it was fine but she insisted on finding another shovel and she finally did. We loaded mulch until I told her that was probably enough and we should stop before she was worn out. Who was I kidding, I had already done one workout, I was worn out!

After that we went to my house and went to work on the shrubs. When we were finished I felt a little guilty that I let my 75 year old mom help me. How selfish is that? But then I thought about it and decided that it is pretty awesome that my mom CAN help me. That means she is moving around and I know it’s good for her. So yeah, my mom rocks!

Once again I am reminded of how good exercise of any kind is for you. And I hope when I am 75 I can shovel mulch and tear shrubs off a fence! And, I want to have a body like Cher!

PS Mom did require one bandaid but no bones were broken while she was in MY backyard!

It’s after midnight and Camille is still working on homework. I have made sure I am wearing green because we take that very seriously in our house. Patrick loved to see who wasn’t wearing green and make sure they were pinched. A silly tradition but we always had fun with it. I always thought it was cool that my husband had a special day for his name.

The kids next door loved Patrick. Last year on March 17th I went out to get the mail and ran into our neighbor, Brandie. She told me her son, Evan, a first grader, couldn’t wait for Patrick to get home so he could wish him a Happy Birthday! She tried to explain that it wasn’t really his birthday but he wasn’t buying it. I watched for Patrick to get home and Evan quickly ran over when he did. Patrick told him he was crazy or something and then acted crazy with a silly voice. I used to worry that his behavior would actually scare kids since he would yell things like, “What are you doing on my sidewalk?!” Kids always seemed to “get” him though. Evan and his little sister, Tabitha, would just giggle as he basically ranted st them. I always got a kick out of watching him with them.

Recently it occurred to me that Evan and Tabitha might not remember Patrick anymore and this made me sad. Then I spoke to Brandie right after the last hearing and she told me she had seen the video of me speaking (breaking down) at the sentencing. She said she cried and Evan cried too, which was even sadder.

I know when someone is gone you seem to remember them with rose-colored glasses. My Patrick wasn’t really a saint but he was a good man and a lot of people loved him. As hard as it is to miss him every, single, day, it’s a blessing to know how many people he had a positive impact on (even if it was just making them laugh). People still share stories about Patrick with me and I always enjoy hearing them. My greatest wish is to keep his memory alive and to live life doing things that would make him proud, or just make him laugh. So, as you go about your day, make someone smile, make someone laugh and smile as you remember Patrick. PS Bonus points for pinching anyone who is not wearing green! ❤️😇☘️☘️☘️🍀🌈

#mypatricksday #notthesamewithouthim #grief

I’m back in the swing of school. My week runs from Thursday to Wednesday so my paper is due tomorrow. As usual I have academic writer’s block. I get frustrated because I have no problem filling my blog with thoughts but the academic writing is just so much work! I’m enjoying my class a little more than expected because it is teaching me about substance abuse which will be helpful knowledge in my campaign to change laws. The problem is that I keep getting sidetracked and researching from that aspect instead of what I am actually working on. I finally decided it was time to call it a night when I was trying to determine the differences in pharmacological and physiological effects of substances. I found a lot of references and explanations but I am still just stuck and my first thought was that Patrick could explain it to me. Even though this was not his area of expertise he was just smart and I bet he could have helped me to understand. 
I’ve had a hard couple of days. I haven’t felt well for almost a week. I’m still not really sure what it was but it seems to be better. Grief and the resulting depression can have physical effects so I’m never quite sure. I’ve missed multiple days at the gym so I’ve been beating myself up about that but I also knew that I really just needed some rest. Again, I hear Patrick’s voice in my head telling me that I don’t need to go to the gym every day and maybe I am setting myself up for failure by trying to. This isn’t the first time I’ve been gung ho about something like this so it’s a conversation we actually had multiple times. “Do you really need to ride 50 miles every Saturday?” or “You don’t have to walk every single night.” Again I am reminded of my word, patience. 
With the anniversary coming up I seem to be reliving events a lot. I think a lot about the crash site and try to picture what it looked like, how he landed, how bad it was. And, of course, I DO NOT really want to know these things. I know myself and if you put the police report in front of me I know I would read it so I am not asking for it. I didn’t go to counseling for a while but I’ve started up again because I know these are things I need to talk through. I am able to function with all of these thoughts going on but I am really hoping they subside over time.
I keep going back to the thought that it is so hard that we never discussed anything like this happening. It’s so bizarre to go through thirty years of planning everything together and then suddenly he’s not there. We used to joke about our lack of communication, “Didn’t I tell you we need to leave in 15 minutes for a birthday party?” or “Oh yeah, you got a call last week, it’s on the answering machine.” Honestly though, even though we forgot little day to day things, we knew everything about each other. When he brushed his teeth he was very meticulous and it literally sounded the same every time, like it was perfectly timed. He had great teeth so I guess it paid off. 😊
I guess it’s time to try to sleep. Hopefully I will finish my paper prior to the very last minute tomorrow! LOL 😂

Tonight Camille went to a baseball game with friends. She is having a great senior year, enjoying the last few months. I spent the evening on the couch reading, doing a puzzle on my iPad, playing stupid games on my phone. I didn’t watch TV because Camille gave that up for lent so I joined her. Aside from that, this really wasn’t much different from what my Friday nights used to be. Patrick would usually fall asleep early after a long week and probably multiple beers. We enjoyed the time alone but we usually didn’t go anywhere. We were happy to just be home. I don’t think that is going to change for me. I don’t really feel the need to go out and do things but it’s a little scary to realize that eventually I won’t have anyone coming home to me.

I know I’m not going to be alone yet. Sierra is coming home for a year before applying to law school. Camille is still deciding on college but even if she stays local she will live on campus. I want the girls to enjoy life and make lives of their own. Hopefully they will experience the kind of love I got to experience. I’m going to enjoy watching them plan their futures!

Eventually I will need to decide how I want to spend my Friday nights. I try to stay positive but tonight I’m feeling that it is so unfair that Patrick is gone. I don’t want to make a new plan! I liked the old one! I was happy in my nice little secure life!

We all need a little pity party once in a while, right? I have felt off the last few weeks and I think it’s just the thought of knowing how many happy and painful memories are waiting for me in April. Easter, his 50th birthday, and then the big one year anniversary. And let’s just add April 27th in because I’m not going to forget that his funeral was that day. I’m beginning to make plans on how to spend those days. It’s a little complicated since Sierra is in Long Beach and Camille will be out of the country on his birthday but we do plan to do something special. He would want us to have good days, to laugh and remember happy times. So we will do our best to not spend the days being sad.

I know the second year will probably not be much easier but it will be nice to have all of the dreaded “firsts” out-of-the-way. I still can’t believe he is gone…

I’m re-reading my blog entries as I move them to my new site. It’s interesting to see how much has changed since I first started writing this but also how much has not changed.
I would like to say that it has gotten easier over time. I guess in some respects it has but the hardest part is that it still doesn’t seem real to me. Patrick was so alive and it just doesn’t seem possible that he’s gone. I thought that as time passed it would not be so shocking to think about but it still takes my breath away when I remember he is gone. 
I recently told someone that I always thought I cried easily and now I realize that it is easy for me not to cry. I’m not sure why I hold so much in but I’ve become more aware of it and I’m trying to allow myself to let it out a little more. 
Yesterday I saw the aftermath of a collision and there was a black bike in the street. Patrick’s bike was also black. I saw it crumpled on the side of the road when I was watching a news report the day he died. That’s probably one of the times I started teaching myself to hold it in. Seeing the bike yesterday brought back a lot of those feelings. I was getting ready to go into a store and I had to sit in my car for a while before I could go in. I know it’s ok to let it out but I really can’t walk around in public like that!
I took two weeks off of school and my new class starts tomorrow. The class is on substance abuse and addiction. I have a completely new perspective on this now. I’m not going into counseling specifically to treat substance abuse but I do have to take this class as part of my degree. I’m praying that it will be helpful and I will be able to handle it. I question my choices so often and I thought about postponing the class longer. I’m not going to because it’s good to stay busy. Worst case scenario, I withdraw midway through and retake it. Like I tell the girls, it would not be the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
Although I still struggle, I do have a lot of happy memories. And I enjoy imagining what Patrick would say or how he would react in different situations. I’m trying to perfect the laugh he made when he was making fun of the girls. I know that sounds mean but he had a way of laughing at them at just the right time. It was kind of his way to remind them that whatever they were upset about, it was not the end of the world. He also liked to tell them “You suck!” He always quickly followed this with “Love you!” He was very quirky but he loved his girls and they knew it. Fortunately they both inherited his sense of humor and that keeps us all going. Thanks for sticking with us on this journey!