alright. it's time. time to start writing again. not sure how to start, not really sure where i left off. but, i know i've still got a lot of questions, same as everyone else.

the past few days and tomorrow especially are hard days for me. this is when we hit the end-of-the-road so to speak in our cancer journey. february 4th, 2010 was the day they told us todd was going to die and gave him 'days to weeks left to live'. ironically, it was also the day that seven years previous he asked me to be his girlfriend in a massive red, chevy truck.

tomorrow is a hard day for me. even though it's not. how do i describe that? not sure. not sure how much space to give it. i can remember every detail. down to the phone calls, location, conversations with family, friends and his doc, Dr. Herman.

see, i knew he was gonna die. i watched it. for months. and on the morning of february 4th, i stood outside his room at overlake hospital, on the fifth floor, room 509. and i talked to dr. herman. he told me he was so sorry, but there was nothing he could do - except surgery. (which would kill him) he said it in about 10 different ways, till i finally looked at him and said, you're telling me this is it, huh? he's gonna die? he reluctantly said yes. and i looked at him imploringly and said please, you have to tell him. he's trying to be strong for me and won't admit it. and i can't tell him. he said, 'no, he knows...' yep, he does, but i need you to tell him. please.

about twenty minutes later, i crawled into a hospital bed with my love. and we cried. we finally had mutual space in this process. it was an even playing field - even though we had always been on the same team. we were finally in the same space. the space neither of us ever wanted to be - but both had known was there for a long time. and it was sweet and sacred space. space to freely express our love. deep bonds and dreams breaking.

heartbroken.

that was two years ago.

maybe tomorrow i'll write about what it's like now.

well, i did it - started school today!!

and as is typical for me, yesterday was really hard. i don’t know why transitions are always so tough and the day before is always the worst.

this is a big one. starting the pursuit of a new career - a path for myself apart from my past, todd or my kids. just me.

a new major. new school. new life.

i'm quickly seeing how much i'm going to have to let go of this semester. it’s okay if my house is messy and lived in and if the laundry doesn't always get folded and put away as long as it gets washed. keeping cooking and meals simple. compromise and balance are going to be much needed!

what’s going to be the trickiest part? the ongoing process of finding grace for myself. learning to see myself through someone else’s eyes - preferably papa’s. seeing the accomplishments instead of the failures. that the dirty kitchen is a sign of success - that i cooked for my family, instead of a failure cause it isn’t clean. that the christmas tree that’s still up (which will hopefully be down this weekend) is a sign that i participated in and celebrated christmas this year in my home, what a huge leap from last year.

and the most amazing thing of all - the truth that no matter how discouraging it looks and feels sometimes (like yesterday) i still want to live and am very much looking forward to my future.

a new place

I feel like a stranger in my own story. A foreigner, and I don’t speak the language.

I was sorting through my inbox recently and found something a friend shared with me right after todd died.

He said, “Grief will come in waves. There will be moments that you feel good, and then you have to fight feeling guilty about that. Sometimes, when the waves come, just go with it, let it carry you where it wants, give it all the voice it wants, I promise, you will come out the other side of it. You are being washed toward the shore of a new place, and in time the waves will get smaller and there will be more space between them...in time.”

that’s where I have arrived. On a much different shore, and I’m trying to get my bearings. But I don’t know this place, it’s unfamiliar and scary. I was telling someone recently that my life has shifted so completely that literally the only thing that hasn’t changed is the fact that I still have my kids. And even they change daily (as they should). they’re not the little babies todd and I had together.

We celebrated hannah jane’s 6th birthday this past week. That’s already her 2nd birthday without todd.

I’m also in the process of navigating a new relationship with a man.

that’s a big sentence to write.

Feels oddly familiar and natural at times but then I’ll hit something that throws me completely. It might be something in our relationship, or simply a memory that triggers life with todd. And I find myself back at the drawing board with this process. sorting out dating with kids for the first time, coupled with grief. the excitement and anticipation - fear and heartache. and hope.

it's hard to be doing so much better in many aspects, and yet still carry the deep ache of loss. and then come to terms with the fact that this will always be the case. i am forever altered.

This next excerpt is taken from another widow’s blog:

"Do you want to be healed?"

These words echo in my mind today. When gifts I have prayed for come to be, I come face to face with whether I really wanted them in the first place.

Jesus asked this before he healed the man who couldn't walk.

I wonder if there were more to the dialogue.

You sure you're in?
Because I can fix this.
But a miracle requires mobility in response.

Sometimes it's easier to expect the worst - and receive it -
than to keep my heart soft enough to acknowledge the healing.

embracing the future

Hannah brought her toy cell phone with her on the drive to school this morning
this is the conversation that followed….

“mom, I’m going to call my friend on the way to school.”

“okay, which friend are you gonna call?”

“her name is Lucy, you don’t know her but her mom just died and she’s real sad so I thought I would try and cheer her up!”

“sounds good, darlin’.”

“hi lucy! How are ya? Oh, yeah. (real sad voice) you’re pretty sad huh? I’m sorry that your mom died. You know, my dad died too and it was a real bummer and i cried a lot. But it’s okay now. I’m sorry your so sad. I’m so glad you get to come visit us soon! (?!) We’ll do lots of fun things! I love you, lucy. We’re at my school now so I’ve got to go but I’ll take a picture of my school and send it to you!”

Hilarious and cute, right? And oh so deep and meaningful too.

The delight, hope, and excitement that entered my heart listening to that conversation is hard to describe. Cause I’ve been where hj is.

When the grief is no longer all consuming and completely turned inward - this magical thing happens. We are given the opportunity to allow papa to redeem our pain. Our heartache and trauma can become an area of incredible strength and hope. Life.

And my beautiful, brave girl arrived there this morning.

Well done, hj. Well done.

On a somewhat similar theme….

As I’ve come out of that intense pain and grief as well - I’ve begun catching glimpses here and there as to what a new future could look like.

I found myself coming close to ideas, passions and possibilities. I want to help people. But how? I’ve got quite the story, a lot for people to relate to since everyone has pain.

I’ve gone back and forth and around in circles - first having to look at and deal with the fear and anger associated with having to start over on a completely different path than I thought I would be on - but also, beginning to feel the excitement of the new adventures awaiting me.

I’ve decided to go back to school and study psychology.

My long term goal and hope is to be able to draw from my story and training, as well as incorporate many of the forms of therapy that i've used and help people come out of trauma.

I’ve found that it’s really easy to get stuck in this journey - in the pain and trauma. And as much as that is an individual choice I think it’s absolutely critical to have help, resources and community along the way.

and so the adventure continues...

The feeling of being between adventures is a destination itself.

It may seem like a braver traveler wouldn't have to wait in the stillness of the empty crossroads, but it takes a different kind of boldness to skip the comfort of an arbitrary destination and enter the quiet land of uncertainty, as if you wanted to send yourself a postcard from there.

It's a daunting passage along the heroes' journey that some people never dare enter. But if you can hang at that empty crossroads and bear the boredom, that's when magic roads appear out of nowhere.

But to get on those roads, you have to be willing to stand in the middle of nowhere for a while.

-David Wilcox-

my birthday

I love birthdays.

Birthdays were something my parents did really well. My mom would always make a beautiful and elaborate cake and we usually had several parties scattered throughout the week - one for friends, our family party the day of and usually one with grandparents too. And, we were treated like royalty for the day.

The past couple of birthdays have looked very different. Two years ago my husband was really, really sick. So, I planned my own party. We went to emerald downs and watched the horse races, one of my favorite things to do in seattle. I tried. Tried to muster the energy to celebrate - all the while knowing next year I would most likely be a widow on my birthday.

Last year I took a trip to England for my birthday. I went to visit people I barely knew but by the end of my trip, counted them amongst some of my most precious friends.

We walked through the English countryside to the local pub, the harrow, for my birthday dinner. It was a delightful evening and one of my favorite trips of all time.

It didn’t feel a lot like my birthday though. Whatever that means.

I’ve spent the last couple of years intensely sorting through a lot of my life, pain, grief - some very recent through the loss of my husband but some went much deeper and further back in my story.

As I was approaching the start of my 29th year I was chatting with papa about what I wanted to do to celebrate. Memories came to mind of past years, celebrations, special presents, dinners and float trips down the Yellowstone. when I was married, I always wanted todd to plan a big party, lots of presents, flowers, etc. Make my birthday a big deal.

I recognized in my reflections something that I’ve wrestled with my whole life. questions. deep questions of my heart. Am I a big deal? Am I really worth celebrating? Do I matter? am i really loved or worthy of love? And so it’s not a huge surprise that on my birthday I would base my response to those questions off of how big of a deal the celebration was. The problem with that is, especially as I've gotten older, the celebrations have gotten smaller and perhaps less dramatic, as they should. after all, I’m not 6 anymore…

but, through pain I had experienced at a very young age - I already knew (or thought i knew) the answer to those questions. I wasn’t worth much at all. so ultimately no matter how big of a party or deal people made - i had already decided my answer.

I was talking to a friend a couple weeks ago and he said, “papa’s in the process of rewriting your dna. Where you have given permission for your value and worth to be determined by man, papa wants to rewrite with truth.” His truth. The truth that I am loved. Cherished. A perfect daughter of the King. and I’m a big damn deal. :)

So, the rest of this is excerpts from my journal leading up to and following my birthday. Reading back through them made me laugh a bit - delighted to find that truth taking hold in me. That I know my value. it’s fun to celebrate without having all the expectations that never measure up anyway. cause the real question I had was one that I alone could reconcile…..

with papa's help.

I’m ready and looking forward to celebrating me this weekend and week coming up.

the plan is this. saturday, a bunch of us are going riding on a fun new trail up in the mountains. gonna ride gemini. climbing black mountain on Sunday with some friends. Tuesday it’s my 29th birthday and I’m going to take my kids floating on the Yellowstone with megs. Then a bbq with friends......

So, I listed four things that I was going to do for my birthday. And I sorta did all of them. They all turned out different than I had planned - hilarious. I did go for a ride on Saturday but it rained all Friday night and so we couldn’t go up the mountain we had planned. But we did go on a really nice ride. And I rode gem like I wanted to. She did great.

We went hiking on Sunday. Made it five miles back in to the lake but it was snowing on us so we couldn’t make it to the top. But it was beautiful. And I had a blast. Fun to go with my friends. And, since we got back early and were cold from the snow we went to chico and went swimming and then had burgers, beer and played shuffle board. It was fun. Really fun.




I woke up on tuesday to both my kids coming to get some morning snuggles. They didn’t remember that it was my birthday, but I did. I smiled. Got up and moving and I remember thinking “I’m just delighted to be alive. To be breathing today.”

Took hj to school. it was a breathtakingly beautiful morning, perfect. hannah said on the way to school, “it sure was nice of papa to put the sun in the sky for you today, mama!”

went to starbucks and got a giant pumpkin spice latte. Talked to a few friends, read texts and facebook messages full of birthday love. And decided that I wanted to go for a drive to paradise valley, to see my mountains and river. So gav and i drove over trail creek, fall mix playing. Told papa it would sure be nice to see a bear for my birthday. Went to mallard’s rest and got out. Beautiful. Took a bunch of pics and threw rocks in the river with gav. We didn’t go rafting but I got my feet in the water and threw rocks with my boy. Stood in the sunshine. Looked at my mountains. Breathed. Remembered. Saw a bear on the way home.

Picked up hj from school and we all went for a ride. I had thought that I would want to ride gem out - the horse that I broke. A reflection of my worth, my accomplishments perhaps? But no, I wanted to ride with my boy and take pictures of my girl on her horse. So, we rode Antonio.




Then we headed home to change and get ready for dinner. On the two minute drive from marilyn’s to our house wouldn’t you know it, there was a bear. right in front of us. Followed him up the road a ways until he ran into the trees.

Thanks papa.

we got home and cleaned up for dinner - it was the only time that day that I was a little sad. Getting ready and dressed up for my birthday dinner. I wanted my husband to take me. Just a little sad.

Then we left for the emerson. The kids had their gifts that they had purchased with sam a couple weeks ago. They both wanted to sit next to me so we all crowded onto one side of the booth. We talked, laughed and looked at the pictures from riding that afternoon. I ordered a rib eye, medium rare and a bottle of wine.

It was perfect. The most delicious steak I’ve ever eaten. We started opening presents and listened to the desert options. Their special was peach cobbler. Yum. It’s my favorite, of course.

I have never had a more fun birthday dinner.

In all the birthdays, anniversaries and celebrations over the past year and a half I have felt the tangible ache and missing. That something was incomplete.

Not that day or night. We were whole. Perfect. Complete. It was simple and I had a blast. Best birthday yet.

september

it's been a busy month so far. Lots of shifting, some good and some a bit on the brutal side.

Kids have settled into school and are loving it!

last weekend sam and i ran a half marathon in whitefish - something we've been working towards for a long time and we totally rocked it! took a minute a mile off our training time, finishing in 2 hours and 5 minutes! sam's moving this weekend, so we're all trying to adjust to a new schedule without her.

turning 29 in a few days here as well...

I also decided this month that it was time to go through the rest of todd’s stuff. Clothes, personal items, tools and job trailer.

Emotionally charged sorting to be sure.

I started with the garage. My garage has been a disaster since I moved in last January. I spent the first day going through my stuff, setting up shelving and organizing what was staying. Made two trips to the dump.

All that was left in the middle of my garage were six or seven boxes of todd’s clothes and stuff.

It’s taken me a year and a half to be able to approach those boxes.

But, I’m sick of living in between worlds. Lives. past vs. present. so here goes....

I sorted work clothes, nice clothes, camping and ski gear, coveralls, sizes extra large all the way down to small. Cancer is a brutal and cruel disease.


Took a load to the salvation army and a load to the dump.

The emotion kicked in later that night. The very real reality that what I wanted to do, was take his clothes, the clothes that I have bought, washed and folded so many times over the years and hang them in a closet next to mine.

Instead I had to put them in boxes and bags and haul them away.

I was mad that night. I envied the other people that have simply gotten to ‘grieve’ the loss of todd. That have only had the reality of his absence to deal with. I’ve had to sort through all the messes on top of loosing my partner. On top of grief.

My friend texted me that night and asked how I was doing.

told her i was feeling the usual array of mixed emotions. Sad, angry and hopeful. I replied, “it feels good, and vastly empty.”

“yeah, probably so! Space. You just made space! Big, deep, space.”

Yep. big, deep, space that feels good and vastly empty.