Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Dear God

Dear God,

You took my husband away from me, and you took my daughter's father away from them. You took my mother-in-law's son away from her, and you took Kyle's best friend. We asked you not to. Everyone asked you to cure him and to let him live a long and healthy and happy life. And you just took him. We barely had a chance to say goodbye. And I feel like you robbed me, and you robbed Sean. He had so much going for him. He was so smart, and dedicated and had so much ambition and motivation to succeed in life. He was going to go so far. And he loved me so much. He never left me to go off and be in his own world of cancer. He stayed in this world with me, even when he was being pulled other ways. He always thought of me first. He was so protective of me. He told me how special I was to him and how I was helping him get through all of the struggles and challenges you put him through. He knew that I wasn't there to pity him but that I loved him too and that I would do absolutely anything for him. And I did. I did everything for him. I loved being the person who was there for him when he needed me and when he thought he didn't. And now, I'm just here. Alone. Except worse--I'm just without Sean.

I know that what you've put me through isn't like what Jesus had to go through for the rest of us. But I'm not your son, sent from Heaven to be on this earth and redeem all of mankind. I'm just one human woman who had a husband who I loved more than anything on this earth. He meant everything to me and we meant everything to each other. And what greater purpose did his death serve? Sure a lot of people were touched by his life and his determination and his bravery, but will anyone really remember that 20 years from now? 5 years from now even? He would have done so much more for this world and for the people here by living than he did by dying. He didn't want to leave this place. And it wasn't just because of me. He loved so many people and he wanted to do such great things for this world. And you let him die and now that will never happen.

I am allowed to be angry with you. You killed my husband. And you didn't even bother to give me an understanding of what the hell it was for! And so now I'm just supposed to figure it out on my own? I'm supposed to somehow keep myself afloat, not screw up my kids, and figure out the purpose of Sean's death all at the same time? You couldn't have given him even a few more months? You couldn't have given him the opportunity to say goodbye to me or to his family or friends? You just took him. And then he was gone. And again-I'm still here! And none the better for it either. Who are we kidding--"that which doesn't kill you will only make you stronger" is the biggest bunch of crap I've ever heard. People who say that and expect it to make you feel like you're a stronger person need to have their heads checked because that's insane. Maybe I'd rather it would kill me so it would just be done with. Why does everything need to have some deeper meaning and learning experience hidden inside? Well whatever these answers are, you're definitely not giving them to anyone. It's like it's a giant secret and we have to go through these worldly lives to get to the end and see what's behind door number 3. Well how about this-I don't want to play your stupid game anymore. I just want my husband back.

So, I just want you to know that I'm mad at you right now for taking my husband away from me for no good reason and leaving me with no explanation whatsoever, and then expecting me to be okay with it. So fine, whatever, be like that. But just so you know, I'm going to keep bothering and bugging you until you help me figure this out. So you'd better be ready for a pain in your ass, because I mean it.


Monday, June 28, 2010

I Don't Want to Do This


I don't want to do this anymore. Can we be done with this already? Can you just come back, and be healthy, and we'll just have our life back? We'll just pick up right where we left off, I promise it will be like you never left. Maybe even better. I don't want to do this anymore-this, waking up every day to nothing, going to work and coming home to more nothing, and then going to bed with nothing all over again. I don't want to get the looks from people that I get when they see me and wonder how I'm doing. How do they think I'm doing? I don't want to make all the phone calls I need to and explain why they have to talk to me and can't speak directly with you.

I don't want to go through this pregnancy by myself anymore. I want you here with me. Things are getting interesting now: I'm getting huge, I'm getting pains, I'm losing mobility, I'm feeling the babies move around...and I want you to be here to help me through the rough parts and enjoy and share the good parts with me. I don't want to think about signing up for Lamaze classes and having to pick a different labor partner. I don't want to go to my doctor appointments and ultrasounds and have them say, "when your husband gets here, we'll just send him on back". I don't want to have to squeeze someone else's hand as I try and work two humans out of my body. I don't want to be cut open on an operating table and have my children taken out of my body for me without you there to receive them for me. I don't want to set up the nursery without you helping me paint. I don't want to put the cribs together and arrange the furniture without your input as to where everything should go. I don't want to bring the girls home from the hospital to an empty house where your presence barely exists. I don't want to have to tell Olivia that you called her "olive", because you're supposed to be here to do that yourself.

I don't want to go through your things and box up the things that I can't bear to throw away. I don't want to go through your medications and records and forms and accounts and make sure that everything you ever touched or opened is empty or closed or secured. I don't want to look at your xbox anymore because all I see when I do is you sitting on the couch with your headset on playing with the guys, but I don't want to move it because then there would be a hole in the entertainment center that wouldn't belong. I don't want to clear your bathroom things off the counter because then it will feel even more like I'm living alone and without you.

I don't want to hear that what I'm going through is normal and that things will get better. I don't want to know about people who have twins just like "I" do. We-"we" have them. Together. They are not "mine", they are "ours". I don't want to go out and socialize with people because it's "good for me to get out of the house". I don't want to have people check in on me to make sure I haven't killed myself in the meantime since their last check-in. I don't want people telling me that everything will be okay. How is this possibly going to be okay? I don't want to get up in the morning and talk on the phone to strangers and listen to them bitch about their procedure preps like it's the most terrible thing a person can go through in their life. I don't want to go to the store or drive around in public and see couples fighting with each other or taking each other for granted.

I just want to be with you. I want to have what we used to have back. I want to laugh about all of our inside jokes, like swordfishermen or chester-molester. I want to not be able to fall asleep without your hand in mine, or some part of me touching some part of you. I want to come home and make you dinner and listen to you complain about how I never make fish or use artichokes. I want to go to Sugarhouse park and feed the ducks with you, and drive up to Silver Lake and feed our sunchips to the squirrels. I want to pour could water on you while you're in the shower and ask you if you have the keys before I lock the door to the house on our way out. I want to fight over who gets to drive the Xterra and why I can't have one radio station preset on your setting. I want to play scatergories with you on my team, and kick your butt in Friends scene-it. I want to take the trip to Jamaica we had to cancel, and I want to sell our cars and run away to Italy. I want to just sit on the couch with you or in the car and not say anything because we don't have to say anything because we're totally and completely comfortable with each other. I want to feel your hand on my knee, and in my hand, and on my shoulder, and in my hair. I want to hear you tell me about the insane movie you watched last night while you weren't sleeping and how ridiculous you thought it was. I want to read the "you laugh, you lose" thread on your forum and stay up for 2 hours passed when we went to bed.

I want to fly with you to Missouri in a week and a half for Jen and Bryan's wedding. I want to play fantasy football in our leagues with you again this season. I want to laugh at you and how terrible your Raiders are until you'll no longer sit next to me on the couch. I want to sit next to you at Thanksgiving in a room with your toe-headed family and see how proud of our dark-haired children you are. I want to go shopping at Hobby Lobby for our annual Christmas ornament and pick ones for the girls this year too. I want to get a babysitter and go out for Valentine's day. I want to spend Memorial Day celebrating the anniversary of our engagement, not the anniversary of your death.

Every day is so different, sweetheart. There are bad days, and not-as-bad days. Never any good days. I have to do all the things that I don't want to do here, and I will never be able to do any of the things that I want to with you. All I have are the memories of us being together, and they're very powerful, but they're not good enough. Right now, at best, I can hope for the distraction of the girls being born, but what kind of mother uses her children as an excuse to escape reality? I'm doing my best to be strong for them, honey, I know that's what you wanted, and it's what I want to do, but I haven't figured out how to do it yet. I haven't even figured out what to do to get myself to a point where I can even think clearly about how I'd even start to get myself to a point where I could be alright. I don't want to do this anymore-I don't want to be without you. I want you to come back and be with me and let us live our lives together until we are old and wrinkled and unrecognizable. I know I can't have that, and I know that I have to be without you. But knowing these things doesn't make them any easier, and I don't think it should. It shouldn't be easy when your husband dies. It shouldn't be easy to let go and say that you're in a better place now. It shouldn't be easy to level with the fact that you never got to hold our children or tuck them into bed or say prayers with them. It's not okay that you're dead. It's not okay that the cancer took you away from me. It's not okay that you left me without saying goodbye. It's not okay that you're merely "watching over us".

Maybe I am complaining and whining, but I think I'm entitled to it right now. All I've ever been is devoted and supportive and loving, and now all I am is hurting and crushed and devastated. I miss you. An incredible amount. There is no good word, really. I love you too but even that can't change what this is. I just want you to know that I don't want to do this anymore, but that I will because I don't have any other choice.

I do love you, but I don't want to do this anymore.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Hard to Argue


I just want you to know that it's a lot harder to argue with you now that you're not here anymore. I'm speaking at this moment specifically about the awful background on the desktop. Howie Long? Really? *GAG* You know, I left it up there because I love you, but now it's like--how am I supposed to change it? How am I supposed to take it down? It was so you, and I can't let go of it, as much as I hate it.

I notice things like this. Like, when I found out what the babies were and you got to use your favorite name-Sophie. Not that we hadn't already agreed that if we had two girls that Olivia and Sophie would be their names, but it's like, since you're not here, I had no other choice. Even if I had wanted to name her something different, you had already given her that name, and I can't argue with that anymore.

I was talking to Anthony a while ago about how he's been wanting to have the girls wear 49ers gear but that he knows how much you loved the Raiders, and now that you're not here anymore, he's giving into the fact that the girls might actually have to wear Raiders gear. Ugh, that makes me shudder, but again, how am I supposed to argue with you? Is this how it works? People don't get their way until they die and then everyone else who is left behind has no choice but to do what they wanted? I always thought I had been pretty good at getting what I wanted, but you've taken it to a whole new level.

Honestly, I love the name Sophie and I'm glad that our daughter will get to live with the name that her father picked out for her. And as far as Howie goes....I'll get to a point, someday, somehow, when he will come off the screen. Don't worry though, I won't get rid of your Raider's helmet or your Asomugha jersey. You lucked out there. So I just wanted you to know that Howie's stupid face is on my screen still because I love you and love who you were (Raiders fan and all) and because as much as I'd like to take it down, I know how much you'd protest, and God knows, it's a lot harder to argue with you now than ever before.

I love you sweetheart, and I hope you get to watch your team this season from where you are. Maybe they won't suck it up as bad as I'm hoping they will....but just because you're harder to argue with doesn't mean you should believe that they're going to do anything special. After all, they are still the Raiders.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Just Another Day


So, I thought I was passed the part of grief where I was in disbelief about what has happened, but I find myself sometimes, like this evening for example, reacting to things or doing things as if I'm expecting you to respond or something. I'll think of something to say, and then I'll turn my head as if you're standing next to me like I'm going to say something to you, and then I'll stop because you're not there. Or I'll hear something in conversation and I'll say something, and I'll pause for a split-second waiting for your response to whatever it was I said. It's just the little things like that that I'm so used to with you that aren't there anymore. I've stopped looking up whenever I hear someone else walking in the room thinking that it's you coming in. But I still notice myself not completely habitualized to your absence.

I missed you a lot today. It was pretty stressful. I was doing some things and taking care of some things that I could have really used your opinion and support on. I was very aware that you weren't there during that time today, and I hated every minute of it. I don't know what I'm going to do when the babies are born and I have to make decisions for them without you. I'm sure I'll do what's best for them, but I know that you would have bettered me by helping me to reach those conclusions in a better way. You had this quality about you that made me so reliant on you. I've always been independent but I find myself without you and it feels like I can't do anything on my own anymore.

Chemo misses you. Whenever I walk in the door and she's waiting for me, I'll come in and she'll be happy to see me, but then she looks at me like there's something missing and like she's waiting for you to come in right behind me. She's warmed up to me a lot in the last few weeks though. She'll even come and walk onto my lap while I'm sitting on the couch with the laptop. She still likes the keyboard--for whatever reason. Stupid cat. She sleeps in her little bed still at the foot of our bed, and won't shut up about how hungry she is as soon as the sun comes up at 6:30 in the morning. My mom has really spoiled her by feeding her as soon as she wakes up, so on the days that I manage to sleep in, I find her crawling on my back or legs, and especially on my head. You know how I mean.

I could go on and on and on about the things about you that I miss on a daily basis and how all of those little things pile up together into the one giant hole that is consuming me. I want you to know all of it though because I want you to know how I never took you for granted and even all of the little things that no one else noticed or knew about you are the biggest part of me that's missing right now. I love you so much honey, and I love everything that you were and still are to me. In case you're wondering, sweetheart, I'm eating a little bit better than I was the past few weeks (more on a schedule) but I'm still not sleeping well at all. I'm still having nightmares about you every night, and I don't go to bed until I'm completely exhausted so that I can fall right asleep and so that I won't just lie in bed thinking about everything. I'll get there though, and hopefully after the babies are born and my hormones normalize again I'll stop having the nightmares and I'll be able to sleep peacefully again (you know, until Olivia starts screaming and wakes up Sophie who starts screaming...). I wish you were here so that I could tell you all of these things and so that I could just be with you. I wish I was old and that our life had already gone by so that I didn't feel like I had to wait so long to see you again. Maybe time will go by fast? It's definitely something I look forward to. I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of going through this entire life without you. We'll be together again someday, and until that day comes, I'll just keep reminding myself.

I know you're doing well. I'm glad that I don't have to ask you and wonder because I already know the answer. At least that's a good thing. See, I'm taking after you--trying to see the positive in an impossible situation. Alright, it's a start at least. But for now, I'll just say goodnight, and that I love you and miss you, and I love you.

Thursday, June 24, 2010


I love you Sean. You are my everything.

That's all I have to say for today.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

God Said, "No"

Dear Sean,

Tonight I went alone, and sat at your grave for a while. It's so peaceful there. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's the one spot where I know I'm closest to you physically, and something about that is comforting. Maybe because it was always so comforting for me to be close to you physically when you were here. I'd lay my head on your shoulder or your chest, or put my feet in your lap and smile when you'd get so bothered by my not being able to sit still. I'd hold your hand while you were driving in the car, or when we'd walk through the mall, or go anywhere really. Remember goldeen goldeen? That was the best. Sitting at your grave now doesn't come anywhere close to providing me with the same comfort I felt from the warmth of every part of your body, but it's the best I can do now and it's all I have.

I was thinking tonight when I was sitting there about the talk that your uncle Richard gave at your memorial service. He hit the nail right on the head when he said that we'd all be thinking about the "why" of this situation, and that came back to me tonight. I couldn't help but sit there thinking, "why did God say no to us? To you?". I grew up learning that sometimes God says no and sometimes He says yes. And when He says yes it is because that is what His plan for us is, and when He says no, that is what His plan for us is. But I keep thinking to myself, what is the plan now? What am I supposed to learn and take away from this? How much further can I grow? Is it simply to force me to come closer to God and to strengthen my relationship with him? If it is, couldn't He have made that happen some other way? Was it necessary for you to die in order for that to be accomplished? Did this happen because you or I or us together did something so wrong in our lives that this was the only solution? I can't believe that, and I really don't, but it still makes me wonder. Did you die because God wanted me to be alone for the rest of my life? To live without a husband and a completed family? Did He want me to raise our girls by myself?

We asked Him to cure your cancer, He said no. We asked Him to take your pain away, and He took all of you. We asked Him to give us a long life together, and He said no. We asked Him for a normal life, and He said no. We asked Him again to cure your cancer, and He said no. We asked Him for a miracle, and He said no. I asked Him for a miracle, and He took you away from me.

It doesn't make sense to me how there is supposed to be some bigger point to all of this. I know that I can't understand God's reasoning and that I'm a selfish human who can't comprehend the will of God. It bothers me so much because all my life I was taught not to question God's plan and his judgement and to not worry because He would provide all that I needed. But I need you, and He took you from me, and I don't know why. And so I do question His plan, because it doesn't make any sense to me. Why would He put you in my life nearly 3 years ago only to take you from me now? And why in this way? Why such a long and painful process? Why didn't He cure you or send a miracle to so that the glory could be given to His name? Why couldn't He have strengthened my relationship with Him by showing me that He is there, listening to our heart's pure requests, and that He answers prayers? I feel like he did once. He answered my prayer to find you. He answered my prayer to meet the man who was perfect for me in every way--the man who would show me about myself and make me try every day to be better, the man who would care about me so much that he'd give his own life to keep me from hurting, the man who would bring me a family, and a lifetime of happiness, companionship, friendship, and pure love. He answered that prayer and brought me you. Why was it only for such a short time? And why was it always plauged and overshadowed by this illness that took you? You and I both learned so much about love, life, each other, and ourselves during this entire time, in this short time. That's truly an understatement and I don't know if I can describe the level of these things that we experienced with each other. It's as if we packed 50 years of time together into 3 years, and then God said, "that's enough".

I know you were ready to leave, honey, and I don't blame you for that. I love you so much for holding on as long as you did and for being so strong through it all. I know you did it for me, and for us. You taught me so much about what it is to be brave and to face this life with strength. Your cousin Alana told me tonight that you were strong enough to leave, and I was strong enough to keep going. I know how hard it must have been for you to leave. You wanted so much to beat cancer and to do the simple things like go back to the gym or play basketball again. You wanted to hold your children and watch them grow up. You wanted to grow old with me and share our entire life together. And I understand that the pain was at a point where it was too much for you, and if it was too much for you, it was too much for anyone. I know you didn't give in or give up. You held on until I told you to go. I saw God waiting for you and I knew that being with him was better than being with me ever would be, and I told you to go with HIm. And you had to, because if you had stayed, you would still be suffering, and I never ever wanted you to suffer. I only always wanted you to be at peace, and where you are now is the only place that could give that to you.

I don't know why God said no to so many things that mattered so much to both you and I, and I don't know why you being here with me was not in his plan for either one of us, but I'm glad that He said "Yes" when I asked him to take you with Him. You went so fast, and the picture I have of that is of you, letting go of me, and running swiftly and direcly, like a child, with purpose, into the arms of your Father in Heaven.

I'll question "why" for the rest of my days here on earth. God may never reveal this to me. But when I see you again, it won't matter anymore. I'll miss you for the rest of my life and I'll love you like I do now. I'll remember who you are and what you did for me and so many others while you had this life. And then, when my time comes to be with you again, I'll run to You, with God standing right behind you waiting for me.

I love you, honey.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Stupid Surround Sound


Today's just one of those days where I've had it with everything. Everything is getting to me and I'm sure it's the combination of everything that has happened with you, me getting absolutely no sleep ever, and these blasted pregnancy hormones. I don't mean to complain, but if I can't bitch to my husband, who can I bitch to? I will say though, that you were always so great at just listening to what was bothering me, and whether you had something constructive to say to make me feel better, or whether it was some ridiculous comment that threw me so far off guard that I totally forgot what I was upset about, you always knew how to make the situation better and how to take care of me.

But right now, everything seems upside down. Everything from your body being buried in the cold ground to the surround sound acting up and me having NO idea what the eff I'm doing to try to fix it. Being without you is so much harder than I thought it would be, which is hard for me to even comprehend because I imagined it would be truly and utterly unbearable, and even that description doesn't do justice to the magnitude of difficulty I pictured myself facing in this situation. It's the big things, and the little things. The little things include stuff like, how the heck am I supposed to change the batteries in the smoke detectors when I can't reach them and don't have a ladder or a step stool? How am I supposed to change the light bulb in the bathroom whenever it goes out so that I don't have to take a shower in the dark? Again, with the surround sound--I have NO idea what I'm doing with that and I think I've just made it worse by trying to fix it. I still can't reach the liquor cabinet (not that I am trying to right now, but God forbid there comes a day when I would like to enjoy a drink), and will have to climb up on the kitchen counter to get at it because you're not here to reach it for me, or to do any of those other things. I will miss coming down to my car in the winter after leaving you sleeping in bed only to find that my windows have been cleared off and that your footprints are in the snow, leading away from the car. You'd laugh so hard if you could see me right now. My belly is huge and it's starting to actually get in the way of me being able to bend over. The bend part still works but I can't get low enough to the ground without squatting a little to reach the floor to pick up whatever it is that I need. And of course I'm still as clumsy as ever and I can picture the roll of your eyes and playful laugh you'd give out every time you'd see me stumble.

And the people, honey, just the people! Everyone is trying to help me and telling me they want to be there for me, and I don't know how to let them. They always ask how they can help and I'm so grateful that they're here supporting me, and that I don't have to do this alone, but I'll be damned if I can think of a single thing to tell them. The worst is when people ask me how I'm doing. I can tell the difference in the people who are referring to my pregnancy and the people who are referring to my dead husband. I always tell the ones asking about the pregnancy that I'm doing just fine, because I am, but for the others....I just shrug my shoulders. I don't know what to say. How the hell are you supposed to answer a question like that? "Oh, my husband died 3 weeks ago, but I'm doing super great, how are you?", just sounds a little ridiculous. I know they're all just wanting to see how I'm doing, and I love them all for that, but it doesn't make answering that question any easier, and it's not like they can just stop asking it. Of course they want to know how I'm doing, except they really don't want the real answer, because the real answer isn't pretty. I'm not some neat little package that can be wrapped up and put on a shelf. I'm an effing mess. All the time. I'm an emotional wreck, hardly able to put makeup on my face in the morning, barely able to wash my clothes, and definitely not able to do much of anything else yet. But you know me, and you'd say that I should be careful or I'll alienate everyone with my "coldness" because people are so used to being optimists and thinking so damn positively about everything, that any taste of reality or the realization than things aren't always all sunshine and butterflies all the time makes them run for the hills. There was truly no one else on this earth that I could be myself with the way I could with you, and I need that so much right now, and I just want it from you.

So now that I've complained, I think about what your response to all of this would be. You'd say, forget about everyone else, and go buy a ladder. Simple, yet real. Just what I always needed. You are all that I needed. Just you. Simple, yet real. I miss your arms that would squeeze me so tightly (I actually could use my back popped right about now, even), and your giant hands that would hold mine in them. Somehow your touch always made everything better, and you knew it did, and you never hesitated to give me that. I couldn't be within 5 feet of you without you having your hand in mine, or your arm on my shoulder, or somehow being connected to you. You were so protective of me in that way, it was like you were staking your claim to me or saying to the rest of the whole world that I was yours and that you weren't letting me go anywhere. I've never thought of myself belonging to anyone before, but I was definitely all yours. I melted whenever you touched me. My heart skipped beats whenever you spoke to me. I died and went to Heaven every time you kissed me, and somehow you made coming back to reality all worth it because if I wasn't with you, I wasn't alive.

So, with you being gone, all of that is gone. There is no more skipping of the heartbeats or seeing Heaven. There's no more melting or feeling alive. Everything is cold and gray and lifeless and uninteresting. Except, when I visit you in my memories, I can see the color and life again. So, I think about you all the time, all day every day. You're still here with me in so many ways, but you're not actually here with me. I don't care what anyone says, whether you are watching over me or not, I'm not comforted by the fact that you might be able to see and hear and feel me, but I can't see or hear or feel you. When two people had what you and I had, there is nothing else that you can experience or occupy yourself with that can fill the emptiness of that being gone.

So I guess today, I miss you for the little things, and the big things. But I know that I love you today for the little things and the big things as well, and more even that I did yesterday or the day before. I love you so much today that it hurts and makes me want to burst. But at least, after the day is over, and everything else is said and done, I have that to hold on to, and believe me.....I do.


Monday, June 21, 2010

The Financial Aid Office


You are the only one I know who would appreciate this as much as I do, so I have to tell you my story about what happened today.

I had the unfortunate obligation of needing to call the financial aid office at the U today, and I should have known it would be a nightmare. Honey, you would have got such a kick out of this ridiculous situation. You and I bonded a strange amount over our mutual hatred of this office. Anyhow, I called to speak to them regarding my financial aid status. Again, MY financial aid. I was on hold for 10 minutes before I was able to speak to a live person and the minute he took my student number, he stated, "well it appears that you have not filled out the consent form online through CIS to allow us to speak about your information". I said, "excuse me, you need me to sign a form so that you can speak about MY information to ME?" and he said, "yes, because without that form we are unable to verify that you are you". RIDICULOUS! I called the social security office the other day about YOU, honey, and got further with them than I did with this circus. The village idiot went off and continuned to ramble on about verifying identity, blah blah blah, so I hung up on him.

So, I logged onto my CIS page and filled out the "form" which consisted of me entering in a "PIN" or password really, and then typing in the name of the person or people that I would like my information to be released to, should they call asking about it. So, I typed in my own name, and listed "self" as the "relation to named person". Again, ridiculous.

I then called back to the financial aid office, waited another 10 minutes on hold, and spoke to someone differently. This time it was a woman, no doubt some poor work-study student who sold her soul for the opportunity to be awared some sort of financial aid (after all, anyone who works for this department has either sold his or her soul straight to the devil already, is in the process of doing so, or is a minion of Satan himself). She answered the phone and said, "Hello, how can I help you", and my reply was this: "Hi, I just filled out your ridiculous form online to allow ME to have access to MY OWN information. So now I'd like to get down to the actual question that I had called about in the first place". This poor girl was taken aback and seemed thrown by my indignance and kept saying how it was federal law, federal law, federal law, blah blah blah, and I said to her "oh, well good thing me verifying this password from this form confirms my entire identity then because no one else on this earth could possibly have any sort of chance whatsoever of discovering the password and pretending to be me. Of course it's good that you verify that password and not my actual identifying information such as my date of birth or social security number, because you know how there are so many Karen Martella's running around with that exact same information." (On a side note, they say that "due to recent legislation"....yet the act that they cite on the form they make you fill out is from 1974....) I eventually had my questions answered, but I was fuming the entire time.

Honey, I know you get this situation and what it meant for me to deal with them. You knew me best of all, more than anyone else on this earth. I loved you so much for the fact that I never had to explain myself to you because you knew me and accepted me, and even more amazingly--you loved me. I miss the days when we would go down to the office and fight them together in person. I'd yell at everyone in the office until they got someone to come talk to me who didn't have their head shoved up their butt, and you'd stand back with this look on your face that said, "Oooh you've done it now!", as if you had warned them. You were so non-confrontational, and it's not that I ever went looking for an argument or fight, but sometimes you have to be firm with people in order to get what you need and to not allow them to walk all over you, and you always let me be that person for you, whether it was dealing with the financial aid office, your doctors office, the hospital staff, or the hollywood video clerks (don't even get me started on them....). I love how much faith you had in me to take care of things and to get things done. I love you for trusting me that way. You never doubted my ability or that I had what it would take to get even the toughest, most back-breaking jobs done. Your faith in me gave me faith in myself, and I know that even now that I have to deal with this terrible group of people again, I have learned from you that I have the strength (and the patience) to deal with them and to get through yet another challenge in this life.

You were an amazing mentor, teacher, friend, and example of what people should be like, and I will remember you for that every day for the rest of my life. I will live my life thinking of what you would do in each situation (I can safely say that you would have done the same thing in this situaiton, referring back to your high-fructose corn syrup email) and I hope that you'll still be proud of me the way you were when you were here.

I love you so much sweetheart, and I wish you were here to have seen this today. You would have laughed with me to make me feel better about the severe lack of intelligence, integrity, and humanity that is the financial aid office. I miss you everday, including today, including right now. I can't wait to be with you again soon and enjoy our time laughing about all of the experiences we had together...and I know you know which ones I'm talking about.

Simply, I love you.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Father's Day


I missed you so much today. It was so hard getting through today without you. I managed to see both of our dad's today, and I visited your grave. I visit your grave most days, but today was extra special.

I know that you never got to meet and hold Sophie and Olivia like you wanted to. Some people say though that you've already met them. I don't know what to think about that. You're their father, and you'll always be their father. It doesn't matter that they never got to meet you. They'll know who you were and they'll know you. I know that Heaven is a different place than this world is. I know that my human mind is too insignificant to begin to comprehend the wonders and powers of the abilities of our God. I believe that there are endless possibilities where you are, and so I don't know if you've met the girls yet or not, but if you have, I know that they are bringing so much joy to you know. If you haven't met them yet, I know that you will some day, and you'll be so ready to see their faces and meet their wonderful souls.

Even in the extremely small amount of time you had with our daughters, I saw what an amazing father you were to them. Even though they aren't born yet, you fathered them during your time here on earth. Before they were conceived you fathered them by preparing a place for them in your heart and in our home. Your love for them was infinite even before we knew that they existed. Every time we would go to the fertilit
y clinic, no matter how sick you felt, you made it a point to tell me how excited you were and that you knew that everything would work out for us. I remember how strong you were for me during the IVF treatments and how willing you were to help me with my shots because even that small part of the process was a big deal to you in that you were helping to father our children in whatever way was available to you. You were there to laugh at me when I came out of the OR after the egg retrieval and had been given the sedation and was all loopy, and even though I was groggy, I remember the smile and look on your face as you drove me home because you knew that we were one step closer to having our children. You were there with me and held my hand through the entire embryo transfer process and you cried with me when they brought us the first amazing image of our twins as blastocysts.

You were a father to our children every time you took care of me, even when you were sick. Every time you opened my car door, took my hand to help me up off the couch, or made me breakfast, you fathered our children. I remember when I told you I was pregnant. It was a week before they told me I could take a pregnancy test, but I woke up that morning and had a feeling that I should take one. So, I took two into the bathroom with me and came out with a huge smile on my face and a bewildered disbelief in my heart. You were sleeping in bed and I shook you awake and told you to look at the tests I had just brought out. You rolled over sleepily and said, "Honey, it's too soon for you to take those. Go back to bed, I love you". I had to keep waking you up to get you to realize what the tests meant. I remember I had to be somewhere early that morning so I had to leave you, and after I was done, I went into the doctors office to have my blood tested and you called me while I was there and asked, "Did you show me what I think you did this morning?" and I said, "yes, look on the counter". I left the tests there for you to see when you woke up so that you'd believe. Later that day when we were leaving for New York, we were in the airport and I got the call from the doctors office confirming the positive pregnancy tests. You were ecstatic! A whole week early and we already knew I was pregnant! You couldn't let go of my hand or stop smiling the entire flight to New York.

I remember you telling Dr. Feldman that we were going to have a baby and that because of the IVF, we may be having twins. He was excited for us since he was a twin himself. You couldn't stop telling people I was pregnant! Random strangers in the hallways of the hotels and subway stations, people at the front desk, and the waiters at the restaurants. Remember on the flight home how all I wanted to eat were pickles and I ordered like 6 from the waitress and she gave me a strange look? You were so quick to tell her why I was having such strange cravings. You were so proud.

I remember how excited you were for my 6 week ultra sound. You were so anxious to hear the heartbeats and make sure the babies were okay. Of course, at this point we didn't know we were having twins, but I remember when they got the picture up on the monitor and we could see both of them. You were so excited! You squeezed my hand so tight. When we got home you couldn't stop rubbing and talking to my belly, even though the babies were so tiny. You were like this the whole time that you were with me and the babies, honey. You always put us first, even when you were so sick. You'd ask me more than anyone how I was feeling, and when my first trimester was a miserable mess, you were the one that was there. You went out at 2 am to Wal-Mart and bought me a humidifier, tylenol, vaporub, and sudafed to take. You brought me tissues, and tea, and made sure I was eating something as soon as woke up in the mornings so that I wouldn't get sick. You always checked in with me at work throughout the day to see if I was doing okay, and you always offered to bring me things to make me feel better. You always made sure I had plenty of anti-nausea medication and if it looked like I was getting low, you would refill it for me with the pharmacy. You were so caring of me and the babies and you never complained even though I know you were in pain too.

Our daughters will know all of this and more, about the man their father was. They'll know how caring he was, and how much he loved and adored their mother. They'll know of all the things you talked about doing with them, like rocking them to sleep at night, reading them bedtime stories then tucking them in, giving them candy behind my back, going to their school plays and dance concerts, scaring off their boyfriends, and walking them down the aisle at their weddings. They'll know that you wanted to be the one to teach them how to ride a bike, to swim, how to change a tire, how to play xbox, use email, and run anti-virus software on the computer. You wanted to be there to make sure that they had their hair brushed for school, that their shoes were on the right feet, and that anyone who picked on them knew that they would have to mess with you first. You were so protective of them and they aren't even here yet. You loved them so much, and it always showed.

I just want you to know that I will always remember the things that you and I talked about in relation to how we wanted to raise our children. I will make every single decision for them with you in mind, always considering what your say in everything would be. You are still my other half, and you are the father of my children, and I know you. I know you. I know what you would say in almost any situation, and I wish that you could be here to say those things for yourself. But until the day comes when we can be a family again together, I will raise our children in honor of you, always remembering what you wanted their lives to be, and working every day to give them that life.

And now, on this Father's Day, your first Father's Day, you can't be here with us. You can't be here to talk to the girls who are actually big enough to hear you and recognize your voice now. You aren't here to feel them kicking, or to see how big my belly has grown. Instead, you're with your Father in Heaven watching over the three of us. You're with our heavenly Father in a much better place than we are. You are having the ultimate Father's day, and I can't help but be jealous. It must be amazing where you are. Most days here are tolerable at best, at least for now. I can't believe how much I miss you today. I thought that things would get easier with time, but I guess I need more time to get to the point where things change. There is only one place better that I can think of where you could possibly be if not with me and the girls on Father's day, and that's exactly where you are--in Heaven, with our eternal Father. Every Father's day, from today on, we will think of you. We will remember who you were here in this life, and try to imagine what you have become in the next. I already look forward to the day when we will hold each other again in God's presence, and I know the girls will feel the same way someday. They will know you so well that they will miss you like I miss you now. I just want you to know that even though you're gone from us, you are not forgotten, and you are still a major part of all of our lives.

If you are with the girls up in Heaven right now, tell them their mother says to take good care of their dad for me, and that I'll see them soon. Tell them to be strong when they come to me, especially on days that I find it hard to be strong for myself, let alone all of us. Tell them that when they are here with me, and they forget about their time with you in Heaven, that they will have time again at the end of this life, and that both you and I will be waiting for them together. And remember how much I love you. I love you more and more every day that goes by, even when you're not here with me. I love you, I love you, I love you.

I miss you and I love you.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Dad's Birthday


Today was my dad's birthday. We went over to the LeVon's for a bbq to celebrate, and we had a good time. It was our typical Jew/LeVon get-together. I missed you terribly though. It wasn't a family celebration without you there. Is it weird that I can feel you not being there? I sense it. I'm aware of it. Is it strange to be aware of something that is absent? People tell me all the time that you're there with me "in spirit" and I don't know what to think about that. I know that half of them actually believe it and half of them just want to comfort me by telling me that you'll always be with me, but I'm not sure what I believe. You're in Heaven now, which is a place that I don't think that I'd be able to pull myself away from for even a moment, so I wonder if that's what you're experiencing. Sometimes, though, I can sense you. It's like I'll catch a scent of you in the air or I'll feel a slight chill on the back of my neck and my mind will snap to you. It's mostly just memories and thoughts that flit in and out, and I can't explain it better than that.

I think everyone that was there tonight sensed that something was missing. You always brought a distinctive livelihood to the gatherings that we had. You were so loved by the LeVon family and you fit right in with all of the quirkiness that our two families had grown so comfortable with over many many years of friendship. That hole in my soul that has plagued me since you left seems to get bigger and bigger every day. Little pieces of me die every time I think of you and then remember that you're gone. I don't care what people say, as much as I love our daughters, even they will not heal that wound. Just because God is blessing me with children who I know will have an amazing place in my life, it doesn't mean that they will make me forget that you're not here or that they will heal my soul and make my life meaningful in the way you made it. If anything, our children will be forever robbed of a piece of me that died when you did, and I'm sorry I can't give that to them, but I'm glad that you own it, because it's all for you anyway. I'll always have enough love for both of them and I'll always work hard every day to give them the greatest life they could possibly have. But when I say nothing will ever fill the Sean-shaped hole in my heart, that includes our children.

I don't know how long I'll hurt for or if I'll ever stop feeling like this. Right now there's no end in sight, and I know it's still early on, but part of me doesn't want to heal. Part of me feels like when everything is okay, I'll have left you behind, and what we had will be less meaningful. The bigger part of me knows that what we had was indescribable. I've always said that you and I truly shared a lifetime of love in just a few short years, and I'll believe that until the day I die. It's just not fair that our time together was cut so short when there are so many marriages and relationships out there in this world that have such little meaning behind them. We meant everything to each other, and that means everything to me now. I'll love you forever for being the amazing husband to me that you always were. You were the best friend I've ever had and never once judged me or looked down on me. You were an amazing father to our daughters, even in the short time that they and you existed at the same time. I still love you for the man that you were and the example that you set for so many people in this world. You are truly a lot to live up to.

I love you honey. I miss you. There's no way to get passed either of these things, but that's okay, because I don't want to. I will love you always, and I will miss you forever.

Friday, June 18, 2010


Cinegrill. What more can I say? Tonight is Friday night, and that was our place, sweetheart. Just you and me. We loved the tables next to the piano so we could have the sweet music playing for us while we enjoyed our night out. It was perfect. Of course we loved the food too, but for me, it was all about being there with you. We'd sit there and talk for a long while about what we thought our lives would be like in 5, 10, and 50 years. It was where we joked with each other, laughed at each other, planned with each other, and fell more in love minute by minute. It will always be our place.

If I ever go back, I'll make sure to get a table by the piano, so that I can sit there and have the sweet music playing for me again.

I love you

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Our Love of Sports


The awful Lakers beat the lame Celtics tonight in game 7 of the championship. You would have liked the game though. It was close the whole time, and came down to the very end. Stupid fans kept chanting "MVP!" for Kobe. What an arrogant bastard. I wish you were here tonight to hate on him with me. You were the only one who truly understood my deeply-rooted hatred of him and the entire Lakers franchise. You were my most favorite person to watch sports with. Whether we were cheering for the same team, or sitting apart from each other because the Broncos were beating the Raiders, we always were on the same page with things like calls the refs were making, or the plays that were being called. I remember when we went and got to meet Eric Weddle at the In
finity Dealership. That day was so awesome, I was so excited, and you kept laughing at me because I was so giddy. And then when we got there and got up to meet him I couldn't even speak. I was so star-struck...even though he's not that big of a star.

Oh! And you should know that Boise State is now officially a part of the Mountain West Conference, but the truly exciting news is that Utah accepted an invitation to join the Pac-10! We're a BCS team now, honey! We miss out on playing in the Holy War every year, but I'm sure they'll manage to schedule BYU every now and then, and when they will be just as intense and fierce as ever. But now we get to play UCLA, and USC, and actually have a real shot at the National Championship. I'm so sorry you didn't get to see this happen, yo
u would have loved it.

I hate that you didn't get to see your Raiders have what could potentially be a good season, since they didn't manage to blow their draft choices this year. I'm sorry you didn't get to see the Utes beat up on BYU again. I'm sorry you didn't get to see Bret Favre come back and attempt to handle another season (crazy old man!). I'll never watch another football game without thinking of you and remembering our times together. That's one thing that I never really shared with anyone before until you came along, and now I can't imagine going through these next seasons without you. It was amazing to go to the Jazz games with you this year. Lakers, Celtics, Cleavland (remember Gaines' amazing buzzer shot?!), and lots of others that were just as exciting. Don't worry...I'll make sure
Olivia and Sophie are well versed in their sports...and I'll let them choose which teams to support...even if your dad does all he can to make them Raiders fans.

I miss you so much, especially when it comes to sports and football. I miss going to Iggy's for games, having Superbowl parties at my parents house, and watching Utah play BYU every year. The Sugar Bowl was one of the best games I've ever seen in my life and I love that I had you to share that with. I even love the Asomugah jersey hanging in the closet because I know how much you loved it...even though it killed me to buy it for you. I love that you told me you wanted to have a baby while we were at a Utes game. I love that you went with
me to Las Vegas, twice, and even dyed your hair red for the game. Remember when that totally random guy came up and asked if he could take your picture? I remember going to the Bees game...I think it was the only one we ever went to...and they had the fireworks that fell in my eyes as I was laying in the grass with you looking up at the sky.

I love that we could just sit back and watch whatever was on TV because that's what we wanted to do together. We bonded over the silliest when Shanahan pulled "the Shanahan" and the Raiders lost the game. Or when Ed Hochuli fudged the Broncos/Chargers game. Remember how close I came to winning our fantasy league and that stupid Peesh guy came out of nowhere at the last minute? I was so mad.
You always did really well in the leagues too and always gave Brian and your grandpa a run for their money. And I'll always remember the distinct look you had in your eye every time Natalie would complain about football or basketball being on while she was over. I can't quite put my finger on the word to describe the look, but it was something close to stubborn determination, and you refused to change the channel.

I love this picture:

it says so much about you, and I love the feeling I get whenever I see it.

I have so many other memories of you and our love of sports. It was truly one of the best parts of our relationship, and I'll hold onto that forever and ever.

I love you with all of my Ute-loving heart, and I know that when I'm watching them this season, you'll be watching with me.


P.S. I'm still going to bring Sophie and Olivia home from the hospital in Utes onesies....just like we planned.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

I miss you


Today was really difficult, I wish you had been here. I went back to work for the first time today, even though it was only a half day. It was horrible waking up and having to force myself to get showered and dressed. I miss those morning when you would have found your way back into bed with me from the couch after your long nights of insomnia and my first alarm would go off and you'd switch it off for me, and let me just lay there with my head on your chest, snuggled up against you for warmth. My bed was cold when I left it this morning, just like it is every night when I get in without you there.

It was awful leaving the house and saying goodbye to nobody but the cat. I miss kissing you goodbye and have you look at me sleepily and tell me you love me and to have a good day.

It was terrible driving to a place that I didn't want to be because I knew I'd have to somehow manage to get myself through my time there, without help from you. You would always text me and ask how things were going and you'd let me complain to you about things that weren't working out or that were bothering me about the office, and you always made me feel better just by saying you couldn't wait to see me when I got home that night.

It was miserable driving home to an empty house where so much of you still exists, but where I feel none of you. I would have given anything in this world to have had you laying on the couch watching TV or playing xbox when I opened the front door.

The bottom line is that I miss you. I miss everything about you and who you were and what we had together, because a giant part of me is missing now, and I don't know how to find it again. I wish you could come back. I know you're in a better place now and you're happy and pain-free, but I'm a selfish person and I want you to be here with me. It's a long and lonely 4 months ahead of me until our girls are born, and without you or them, what else do I have? It feels so lonely here even though I'm surrounded by loving and caring people. They try, but none of them singularly nor all of them together can begin to fill the void in my heart that belongs to you.

I love you, honey, and I hope you know how much you are missed. I look forward to the day when we will be together again, and don't believe it will come soon enough. You're at peace now, but mine has yet to find me. I love you, I love you, but I really do love you. I miss you and I love you.


Tuesday, June 15, 2010


This blog is meant to serve as a place for me to go and write down memories, stories, and thoughts concerning my late husband Sean, our daughters Sophie and Olivia, and myself.