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And she’s off on a new adventure!

In a few days I will be dropping Camille off at UC Davis. I knew the summer would fly by and it has. I’m kind of avoiding all of the feelings I have about this. I know we will all be okay and she’s going to have a great time but it’s hard letting go of my youngest!

I love both of my girls equally. They are alike in many ways but also different. Sierra was fiercely independent. I know she missed us and we missed her but she was excited to experience college. When we dropped her off I was honestly just really excited for her.

With Camille it’s a little different and a lot of it has to do with the change in circumstances. Camille and I have been together since Patrick died. Initially it was just us that day. And when Sierra left for school last year it was just Camille and I for the entire school year. So, I think that makes it harder to let her go. Make no mistake though, she will thrive in college and I know she will make me extremely proud!

I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am that Sierra will be home with me for another year. We will get to have that time together just like Camille and I did. Eventually they will both be gone but having this extra year is going to make it easier for me.

I just realized that today is the 22nd. I completely missed the 20th. Every month I have thought about how many months it has been. But I didn’t think about 17 months. I think that is a good sign! And I think Patrick would agree.

I’m adding pictures that Cathy arranged for the girls to take as a surprise for me. They make me so proud!

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Personal Triumph

I’m on Day 4 of a weight loss challenge at the gym. I’m doing it right this time and following the meal plan in addition to working out so I’m counting on big results!

I stayed up too late last night for various reasons but I went to the gym this morning for kick boxing. Normally I stay for a core session but I was tired and the fans in the gym were not working so I just did one class.

I felt a little guilty when I got home so I took the dog for a walk. She is small so we just went a mile at a slow pace. I was listening to music and my “grief anthem” came on, “Ordinary World” by Duran Duran. Part of the lyrics are, “I won’t cry for yesterday, there’s an ordinary world, somehow I have to find. And as I try to find my way, to this ordinary world, I will learn to survive”. The first time I really listened to these words, a few days after Patrick died, I desperately wanted ordinary. At the time it seemed like nothing would ever be ordinary again but those words gave me hope.

Listening to the song this morning I realized that what I really wanted to do was ride my bike. But I hadn’t done that in over a year…

Patrick and the girls got me a mountain bike for Mother’s Day, 2008. I thought I would ride bikes with them but I ended up going for solo rides after work and working up to 17 miles at a time. I loved it so much that I decided to join Team in Training and train for a Century bike ride. I started with a loaner bike but purchased my own road bike before the actual event. Patrick was skeptical I’m sure but he supported me, coming out to repair flats and provide first aid supplies when I fell while learning how to clip out. I finished my first century in Solvang that year and went on to do 3 or 4 more plus various other rides that were shorter. Cycling is a great workout but when you are mainly doing endurance rides, and you’re me, you think that after a 60 mile training ride you can eat whatever you want. So I was never really able to lose weight and keep it off. I switched to walking and it helped me take off a lot but I was gaining it back. And then April 20th happened.

Patrick rode his bike out Shaw Avenue and did a few laps around Quail Lakes at least a few days each week. If I rode from home I always went down Shaw too, it was my favorite route. He was riding it that morning when he was hit and killed.

That day I wanted to throw my bike in the street. I got over that but then I avoided cycling to protect the girls. I rode in the Ride of Silence a month after he died but honestly I was still in shock then. I just wasn’t sure I could ever really do it again. And if I did, where would I ride? Shaw Avenue was ruined for me.

Today I decided to take my favorite route back. Cycling did not kill Patrick. A lack of sleep caused by a meth binge did. I could give up cycling to keep myself safe but if we gave up everything that could possibly kill us, how would we ever live? I put all my cycling gear on and inflated my tires We do love our gear! Then I realized I didn’t have my Road ID on. I almost went without it but I remembered how mad I was that he did not wear his as it caused an hours long delay in receiving official notification. I went and got it and realized that my first contact was still my husband. There are always reminders.

As I waited at the traffic light I remembered how frequently Patrick disregarded cycling rules and etiquette. That morning I was also a little angry because I was convinced he did something stupid. Later I was extremely grateful when the detective told me that Patrick did nothing wrong.

I wasn’t sure how I would react as I drove past the site. I have driven past a handful of times when I really needed an outlet for my grief. And I would scream and cry as I did that. Cycling is different though. Having the wind in my face was peaceful and I imagined him on his final ride. I’m sure he was thinking about mundane things or planning his day at work. I believe that he never knew what happened and it was quick and painless. I said a prayer and told him I loved him as I rode by. I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream. And then I turned at the next street and rode home. Mission accomplished.

I feel like a weight has been lifted. I know that he would not have wanted me to give up cycling or avoid that stretch of the road. He would have thought it was silly. I’m not sure how much I will ride now. I love my gym workouts and I love the strength they have given me. But I needed the ability to cycle and I needed my favorite route back. Now, the sky’s the limit!

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Grief is just a place I visit

I’m fairly certain that this title is something someone else said, I’m just not that original. Regardless of who coined the phrase, I really like it. Grief really is just a place I visit, I don’t live there.

I was recently talking about the day that Patrick died, with someone who hadn’t heard the story. This is a little bit unusual for me, in fact, I can’t remember the last time it happened. I really don’t mind talking about it. I’m not sure if that is good, bad, or neither but I think it might even be part of the grieving process to revisit it once in a while. The person I was talking to seemed to be worried that I would be too upset and thought he saw my eyes tearing up. I didn’t feel like I was going to cry. I made it through that day by keeping grief at a distance and for me, that has been a workable solution. I was able to get through the story with no problem.

I’m not saying keeping grief at a distance works for everyone. For some people, that might not be a healthy solution, but it works for me. And each time I tell the story I remember little things that I was grateful for and also just the wonder and the sense that I only made it through that day because Patrick and God were watching over me. I took things in little doses. Some were a bit strong but I didn’t feel like I was hitting a brick wall. Some of the memories are a little tougher than others but each time I feel them, it gets a little easier.

I know so many people who have lost someone in the last few years and it’s amazing how we all find our own way to get through it. At times I have felt that I have not been able to support people as much as I had hoped and I’ve tried to figure out why that is. Earlier today I posted my blog from the five-month mark. In it, I mentioned the Widows Hope Facebook group that frightened me early on. I think the reason is that I have never been able to imagine myself living in Grief. I can visit but I prefer to visit Hope, Laughter, and Love. I can handle being in those places. Occasionally I stop by Struggle, Loneliness, and Doubt, but those are brief visits too. I’m not saying that this is the only way to survive. I guess the only advice I can give is to try to give yourself a break from the grief. You can visit every day but keep your visits brief.

One of my favorite places to visit is Laughter. I think I made this clear to people early on. Living with Sierra and Camille has helped. They share their father’s sense of humor and it has gotten us through many difficult times. One of our favorite things to do as a family was to visit thrift shops in San Luis Obispo and occasionally in town. Patrick liked to be a miser and he actually bought his work clothes at thrift shops. I think his employees knew this without even being told 😂😂😂. He also liked to find little treasures there and the girls loved finding clothes. I usually bought books or odd household items. A short time before he died the three of them went thrifting and decided to have a contest. They could each spend $5 and I had to judge whose item was the “Most Awesome”.

The girls bought clothing so their presentation involved coming down the stairs wearing their purchases and working hard to sell them. Camille was first and she came downstairs in this ridiculous gauzy pantsuit with patches sewn on. Clearly it was supposed to be some sort of uniform. The funny thing was that I imagined it was originally just a pantsuit. She strutted down the stairs then jumped off and pointed at the suit. As she later said, the suit spoke for itself and words weren’t required.

Sierra was next. She is also really funny and has a background in Speech and Debate as well as Mock Trial and Moot Court. So she is very persuasive! She strutted down and twirled in the most ridiculous t-shirt I have ever seen. She said that she loved that someone put in the effort to display their love of frogs by cutting out a panel and carefully sewing it into the t-shirt. Then they decided it would be a little bit more awesome to keep that extra part, cut it into fringe and add beads. I was dying at this point!

Patrick went last because he knew his would be the most awesome. He bought one of those apple parer/corer/slicers. He gave an elaborate presentation on the virtues of this handy kitchen tool. I don’t eat a ton of apples but I could see the appeal in having them so easily prepared to eat. I deemed it a good purchase but Sierra was my hands down winner. I’m not sure he ever forgave me for not choosing him! 😉

The Friday after Patrick died, Amy and the kids arrived from Nebraska (Dan arrived a little earlier), and Dawan and Tom made it home from Europe. So, the house was packed and we were all very sad. I remembered the thrift store contest and asked the girls to recreate the presentation. That was the first time our house had been filled with laughter since the nightmare began and it was awesome. After the presentation the girls shared other stories about their dad and it was exactly what we all needed. We had been grieving a bit too much and we needed a laughter break.

Like I said, Grief is a place I visit. It’s not my favorite place to go but it’s not all bad. There are good memories there as well as painful ones. And sometimes I do get a little bottled up and I need to visit Grief to let it all out. I have no trouble finding my way there but I always make it back home. If you ever have to visit, try not to stay too long.

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Online Dating

I think that this online dating thing is turning into a very brief experiment! It’s turning out to be a lot of work with very little reward! I decided that since I do know a few other widows and some single people I could share my experience and some pointers. So far my experience does not include any actual dates and I think I’m okay with that!

Photos – I don’t have access to the photos women post but I’m guessing that a little more thought is put into them. Guys seem to think that we will be attracted to their motorcycles, cars, or a picture of the mountains. At least a third of the pictures are blurry! Who doesn’t have access to some kind of camera that can take a clear picture? The strangest phenomenon is the pictures from the nose up, half of their head. Is this some secret mating ritual that I don’t know about??? Oh, and sunglasses! Yes, I would like to see your eyes! And finally, did you mean for your picture to look like you want to kill someone? Because I’m a little bit afraid of you and that’s not a quality I’m looking for!

Spelling/Grammar- could you use spell check? Are you trying to fit in so much information that there is not room for punctuation?

Scammers – I’m not 100% sure what the scam is but I think it involves making you fall madly in love and then sending them all your money. Do people really fall for this? Here are the clues I have found so far:

1) Their profile description is very flowery. This alone is not a dead giveaway but if their messages are like that too, I’m not buying it!

2) They live far away. I think the intent here is so you can’t meet face to face until you send them all your money so they can come to see you.

3) They immediately want to communicate outside of the app and ask for your phone number right away. I haven’t given anyone my phone number yet and probably wouldn’t unless we were meeting for coffee.

4) They want your email address so they can send you more information and “pictures”. Then, if you give them a disposable email they ask for gmail. Dude! I know you are sending me some kind of virus, ain’t gonna happen! And I really don’t want any more pictures that can’t be posted on your profile!

5) English does not appear to be their first language. The way they speak does not make sense. They are using English but not in a way that you would. Example: “I’m not looking for a perfect relationship or a perfect love. Humans aren’t flawless and I expect her to exhibit one. Huh????

6) Their occupation or profession is unusual. Some of the ones I saw: Real State, Worker, Good Worker, Commander of NATO Special Forces on the West Coast (I’m not even kidding)!

I’m sure I am missing some of the clues but those are the most obvious.

Dating Sites: I joined 5, don’t judge me. Here are my opinions:

TINDER – This one appears to be mainly a hook-up app so I did not join it.

OK Cupid – I joined this first, it was suggested by a friend. She liked it because you answer a LOT of questions with the option to answer more. Then it gives you a comparability %. I found that number questionable since some of the “high matches” had only answered a few questions. I did get messages from a lot of people that I was not interested in so maybe I’m just picky? I messaged one person and he messaged me back to let me know he was working and would get back to me which I thought was nice. He replied a day or two later with a copy of one of my pictures and the message was “Sexy”. I said “Really? That’s your response?” Apparently he didn’t appreciate my sarcasm. He told me he didn’t have time for sarcasm and games.

Bumble – I joined Bumble a day later I think. The appeal of Bumble is that the ladies have to initiate conversation. This app does not show me a list of who I “liked” so I probably liked some people more than once. The profiles are very limited so it seems to be more about looks. I have not messaged anyone on this site and I don’t go on it as much.

Zoosk – I googled dating sites and found a review section. This was one of the more highly recommended ones. It has less information than OKCupid but more than Bumble. I do think that the people on here tend to be real because the site uses software to verify your photos, phone number and social profiles (but you don’t share the phone number or social profile on the site). This is a pretty good app. Still, only got messages from people I was not interested in and did not send any.

Match – This is one of the more popular ones and it seems to do at least some verification. It has a lot of features that I like too. I messaged a few people and I know that a few of them are definitely real people. If I stay on a site it might be this one but I haven’t decided.

Plenty of Fish – This app touts itself as being a conversation starter. When you join, the paid members can see that you are new. I got so many messages the first few days and some seemed at least a little promising. In the end I think it was mostly scammers and people I was not attracted to.

So that’s my review. I think I prefer to just wait and find someone in the real world. I am having fun trying to identify the scammers so I might stay on for the entertainment value. My advice to you, be very aware and assume everyone is an imposter!

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Giving In

Every once in a while I give in and feel a little sorry for myself. I’m excited about retiring, going to school, and having many other positives in my life. But, I still want that other life back! It probably wasn’t as perfect as I make it out to be. I know I wasn’t blissfully happy every minute of every day, but I was comfortable, secure and loved. It’s hard stepping out of my comfort zone.

In my last post I mentioned my little recurring film clip. There are also places that trigger memories. There is a spot on Fowler, just South of Gettysburg, where Patrick’s bus broke down on the way home from the shop. The mechanic came and towed it back in. I picked Patrick up from that spot and every time I drive by I picture him standing there. I’ve picked him up by the side of the road many times over the years. I wasn’t sure why this one stood out and then I remembered that it happened on Monday and he died on Wednesday. So it’s one of my last memories. I’m sure he got in the car, leaned over to give me a kiss, and said, “Thanks Babe!” I actually gave him several rides that week and that was unusual so it’s a blessing that I had that extra time with him. I wish I could remember every bit of every conversation. I don’t think we talked about anything profound. That night we probably talked about the soccer awards dinner we were heading to. Sometimes it’s the little mundane things that I miss the most.

When I drive down Shaw, past Sunnyside, I imagine his bus parked in his usual spot at the old SJVR office next to BCs Pizza. How many times did I stop there on my way to work to drop off the phone he had forgotten at home? Sometimes I would stop there to pick him up on the way to a sporting event. It was always nicer to ride together.

His memory is everywhere but as time goes by I feel that I’ve lost some of my memories. He always had a better memory than I did and I think of questions I want to ask him every day. My current class is a little more scientific than the others and I would love it if I could ask him to explain some concepts to me. I’m not even sure if he ever studied neurotransmission but he could probably read a blurb in a textbook and make it easier for me to grasp.

When I have bad days or any kind of disappointment really, I always wish for that life. I’m not sure if it’s normal but anything negative in my life now turns into part of my grief. Something completely unrelated will happen and next thing I know, I’m at the cemetery, or driving down Shaw, to pass “the spot” and let out my pain.

My grief is probably more private now. I have to keep my shields up so I can function but I am also a little grateful when something upsets me because I know that I need that regular release that I get when I let go and feel.

I really don’t want to post this because it seems dark and sad and that is not how my life is. This is just part of the process. Letting the feelings out. Dealing with them. I really don’t think I will ever be 100% pain free again. I will always miss him. But, I will continue to embrace life and enjoy the years I have left! I know he would want me to.

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The Red Shirt

Have you ever watched a movie where someone has a kind of film loop running through their head? It’s a real thing. Mine is Patrick, riding his bike, with a long sleeve red shirt and the baggy bike shorts I bought him for Christmas (with hidden padding so no one thought he was too serious about riding). He has an intense look on his face because that’s how he was when he was out riding. He viewed fitness as an obligation and he usually looked serious when he was working out, I think he might have liked it a little but he probably would argue with that.

I guess you will probably think it’s sad that I have these images of how he would have looked right before it happened? And I guess maybe it IS a little sad but I’m so used to it now. And yes, sometimes I let the film go forward a little and imagine what happened. I try not to do that too much because it is harder but it’s odd how much little details matter.

The day after his funeral, Mom and Pop (his parents), picked us up to drive to Porterville for Zio Angelo’s funeral. I sat in the back with the girls on either side of me. We needed to go to be with everyone and I was actually relieved that we didn’t have to be the focus anymore. While we were driving, Mom gave me a card she had been carrying around for Patrick and I. He had recently helped them put in a new mailbox and I had done their taxes. The card was to thank us and it included a gift card for dinner. She had been carrying it around since before he died. I knew that she needed to give it to me but I think it was really hard for both of us. I choked up a little but vowed to keep it together for the girls.

Then my phone rang. It was the funeral home, calling to tell me they had a few personal effects, the clothing he was wearing that day. They thought I might want it thrown out. I had been trying to determine what he was wearing. I can’t tell you why this was important but it just was. I thought it was the red shirt with black on the sleeves but I just wasn’t sure. I tried to ask without anyone in the car realizing what I was asking. I’m not sure how I did it but they confirmed it was the shirt. I told them that someone would pick the items up. I got off the phone and struggled to hold it together. I spoke to a Patrick in my head and begged him to help me hold it together and I really think he did.

We got to the church and the rosary was first. This was good because I bowed my head as if praying and just sobbed. I think the girls were sitting by their cousins and I had the teNyenhuis sisters-in-love with me and they just surrounded me. After the rosary there was a brief viewing/visitation and during this time I moved and sat away from the girls. I knew their aunts would be with them and I just needed to be away, just for a bit. I sat with Elisa, Marissa and Livia (Prandini cousins) and I think I actually stopped crying but it was nice to feel like I didn’t have to hold it together.

That great big beautiful family got me through that day. I love them all so much!

My sister picked up the clothing and it is packed away somewhere. Probably it should have been thrown out but I just couldn’t do it yet.

So I still have that little video playing. I know there are treatments for PTSD type things but I don’t think I really need it for this. It’s not constant and it’s not horrific. It’s just him, riding. I still can’t believe this happened. Over time it has gotten easier. I don’t cry very much, but it is still shocking every time I am reminded that he is gone. And I still wonder about the little details. I can’t help it. I don’t need to know them but maybe if I did it would be different and I wouldn’t wonder so much? So hard to know. Sixteen months later and I promise it is easier and I am mostly happy. When I write down these painful memories I feel like I am releasing them a bit. Thank you for helping with that.