Sunday, August 29, 2010

My Best 3 Birthdays


So, tomorrow is my birthday, and I really don't want to acknowledge it this year. The only benefit I can see is that I'm 1 year closer to being back with you. I think back on the last few years for the birthdays that you were there for, and I remember the first: you gave me a DVD of the Disney Sword in the Stone movie and a Ute's football helmet car-freshener. It was a great birthday. You came over, met my family, we all watched the Ute's season opener and had Cafe Rio. What a perfect way to spend the day with you (turns out you and I had many days of watching football and hanging around the house with each other, and they were truly some of my all-time favorites).

The year after that was the birthday I had 10 days after we were married, so it was special to me then (not to mention it was my 21st). It was sort of bittersweet because you had been in the hospital from your first RPLND and I think we ended up celebrating my birthday in the hospital (again with a Utes game on TV). I remember I was getting my name changed and my drivers license renewed all around that time, and it was a special birthday for me because it was my first birthday as Karen Martella, and as your wife.

The year after that you were just getting out of the hospital from the complications you had from your second RPLND surgery. You were getting over your blood clot, kidney failure, and bowel obstruction. I don't think we celebrated my birthday much that year, but I didn't mind, because I spent the day with you. If I had known that it was going to be the last birthday that I shared with you, I would have made sure it was more memorable, but in retrospect I would have done that with every single day that you and I were together. So even though I didn't know it would be our last together, I still treasure what it was.

This're not with me, and I'm still Karen Martella, and I'm still your wife. I'm just missing my husband, that's all. My second half is gone, and somehow I still manage to turn 1 year older. (I just want to say that I always knew I'd have kids by the time I was 23...and for that matter I always had a feeling I'd have twins someday.) I just want you to know that none of my birthdays will ever be the same now that you're gone. Each year it will feel like half of me is missing....I'm just suck here left over with the half that seems to age instead of the half that is happy about everything. Maybe my aging half can learn to be happy again someday, but I'll always have half of what I did at each of my last birthdays, starting with this one tomorrow, and my heart aches for that loss. I miss you so much, and if I could wish you back by blowing out candles on a cake, I'd make that wish every year for the rest of my life until it came true.

So, tomorrow is another year down. I started that year with you but didn't get to finish it. This time I'll start it without you and that's how all the rest of them will be. I hate that-more than I hate natural sunlight in the house, more than I hate BYU, more than I hate the U's financial aid office, and even more than I hate spiders.

The only thing I want for my birthday, this year, and all of the rest from here on out, is to have my husband and best friend back. So while it doesn't seem like I'll get that present anytime soon, I'll keep making that wish on all of my candles on all of my birthday cakes.

I love you sweetheart, and I miss you very much. Thanks for the 3 amazing birthdays I got to spend with you, and for making them so special for me just by being there with me throughout the day.

Friday, August 27, 2010


Hi Honey,

Been thinking about you a lot today. I really love you. I really miss you. Sometimes I wonder how you're doing, and then I think, "is that even a valid question in this case?". Not sure how to answer that. I was tired today since I didn't sleep a lot last night. People are worried about me having been in the hospital, but the truth is that even when I was there and they weren't sure yet if the tests would show that I would be having the babies that night or not, I wasn't even concerned about it. I wasn't worried. I mean, what do people have babies in hospitals for anyway? I was in the right place, my OB was on call so she would have delivered the girls, and at home I'm ready for the girls to be here, more or less (although they'd been in the hospital for a while anyway giving me time to get their crib beds made up and clothes washed and stuff like that). But I wasn't worried that anything would happen to them, or to me. The only thing I was dreading was you not being there with me, and that's a fact and reality that I have to face every day, not just days that I might possibly be in labor. The prospect of having these babies without you there is harder to face than some others (i.e. I am able to get dressed in the morning without you there), but everything (including my morning routine) is significantly more difficult since you've been gone than it was while you were here, and it's because I know on a conscious and subconscious level that doing all of this without you is just wrong. It shouldn't be this way, it shouldn't happen like that. There is a method to everything and my method has been seriously and permanently interrupted, and I'm still trying every day to find how to balance everything out.

Anyway, there's not really a point to this tonight, it's just more me saying what's on my mind. I do love you so much though. You're my whole world still. I miss you and I can't wait to be with you again, but at least I can take comfort in knowing that the best part of me, the part that belongs to you, is in Heaven now.

I love you I love you I love you

P.S. I have had a lot of swelling in my feet today, and I totally have's disgusting, just thought you'd get a kick out of that.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

In The Hospital


I saw my doctor today and she told me that if I had more than 6 contractions in an hour I needed to come to labor and delivery and get checked out. So tonight, between about 6:30 and 7:30, I was having contractions more often during that hour than not, so I figured I'd better do what I'd tell you to do if it were something to do with you, and I went in.

Turns out I'm like 99% effaced and dialated to 1.5 cm at this point, which isn't that much (except for the thinning being nearly all the way) but it's still too early for the babies to come, so when I came in they gave me some medicine to help stop the contractions, which were putting my body into early labor. This happens a lot though, and I've heard about it a lot from people, so I'm not worried about it. They did a test to see if I had a specific enzyme present and they said that if it's not present it means that you won't deliver in the next 2 weeks. I did not have the enzyme present which is good. Sophie's head is super low and so that's uncomfortable, but neither of them should be here within the next couple of weeks at least so they'll have some more time to grow right where they are. And that's good because I really don't want them to have to spend the first month or more of their lives in the hospital. I'm not liking being here for sure.

They're going to keep me overnight with this ridiculous monitor on my belly to watch the babies heart-rates and make sure that they're doing okay. They're also measuring the contractions I'm having with the monitor and the nurse told me a minute a go that they're still about 3 minutes apart and they're pretty regular. Not really sure what that means either here or there, but it's something I guess. So, now it starts. Me doing this without you. I guess I've been doing it already but now it's getting more real.

The first thing was when we were driving here, and I thought, I wish Sean were the one taking me in to get checked. You were always so concerned about me when I had so much as a headache, I really miss you tonight because I know how you'd be watching out for me. Then when we got here they had me put on a hospital gown. I went into the bathroom to put it on, and it smelled like how I remember you when you were in the hospital. I'm not surprised because I'm at the same hospital you were always at in a gown that you may have even worn yourself at some point. But, they say that smell is the strongest sense tied to memory, and at that moment I could see, hear, and feel you all in an instant. It was overpowering. Then there was the bed that I had to climb into, and the last time I did that was to be with you while you died. But I also thought about all the times I spent laying with you in the beds watching football and basketball games, watching movies, or just talking with you. I'd give anything for you to be lying in my hospital bed right now.

They've done some pretty uncomfortable things to me while I've been here including giving me a catheter (to check for a bladder infection, which was negative), and checking my cervix, which is how they measure how far dilated and effaced you are, and that part has by far been the most painful/uncomfortable thing I have been through tonight. I didn't have anyone's hand to hold onto during that, and after it was over, I hated the fact that you hadn't just been there with me, and that you won't be there through what's coming in the near future.

I try to stay positive and say, at least the babies will be here soon and then I'll have a bit of you back with me to hold onto, but in reality, I cannot and will not use my daughters for the purpose of feeling like I'm connected with you again becuase I don't want to rob my experience and relationship with them of anything that is truly there. I will never touch you again, and it doesn't matter that Sophie and Olivia are your flesh and blood. They are not you, and I won't treat them like they're my tools to be close to you.

Come back to me, honey. I want you here. I need you here. I've never needed you more than I do right now, and you're not here for me. I don't mean that in a bitter or resentful way, I'm just trying to stay real here. The balance between being depressingly down all the time and being a blissfully ignorant idiot is being realistic, and I'm trying to stay on that level instead of falling beneath. I do love you though. More today than I did yesterday or the day before. And before this is all over I'll miss you even more than I do right now, which doesn't even seem possible.

I hope wherever you are up there right now you can see me and see the girls and that you're going through this with us. I know you would be if you could. I miss you and I love you very, very, very much.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Getting Closer


I'm at 29 weeks in my pregnancy now (that's the 3rd trimester) and am considering myself in the "danger zone" at this point. That means that I'm at risk now for having the babies spontaneously at any point between now and 38 weeks when they would induce me, and I'd really prefer them to stay where they are until I'm at least 36 weeks so that they have a change to develop completely. I don't want them to have to stay in the hospital very long (like any longer than I'm in there for), but I'll still be on the lookout for signs of distress so that if I need to, I can get myself to a hospital ASAP. I can't believe it's getting so close. And I can't believe that you're not here with me. It's so hard without you here honey. I never thought you wouldn't be here for this part of my life, of our life, and of our babies lives. Doing this without you just seems wrong.

Today was one of those slap-in-the-face kind of days. And the slap came at about 8:30 am this morning too! That's too early. I sat down in class today and the girl next to me asked when I was due, so we started talking about the pregnancy and the twins and then she asked if my husband was in school too or if he'd have more time to help out at home with them. I hate it when people catch me off guard like this--and she totally did. I wasn't prepared to tell a total stranger that I'm a widow and that my husband is dead, and so I froze, probably for too long to the point where she noticed an awkward moment of silence, and then all I could answer was, "he used to be". Ugh, I hate it. I'm okay talking about what happened with you when I'm expecting to or with someone I know, but when out of nowhere I get asked about what my husband is up to, it just throws me a huge curve ball and it is really difficult for me to process that information and deal with giving an answer. So far I haven't been able to do it. I'll just freeze up like I did today and spout out some answer that is true, but not the whole truth.

So I'll have to figure out how to deal with that while I try to figure out how to deal with everything else at the same time. The babies move a lot, which is a good sign that they're very healthy, just thought you should know. I know they'd move around more if they could hear their daddy's voice talking to them or if they could feel your hand on my belly. I think they miss you too.

I miss you. That's for sure. Everyday is still so hard. It's always an uphill battle. I suppose I'll just get in shape from all of this.

I love you so so much.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Faux-Hawks and Sex Offenders


Today I'm sort of writing this post as the day goes along. There are just a couple of things that I wanted to tell you, and I didn't want to forget what they were.

First of all, there is a guy in my first class of the day (Anatomy) who had a popped colalr and a faux-hawk. Enough said.

Secondly, I saw that sex offender again!! He was walking down Carlisle....probably on his way to the post office again or something. Isn't it weird that when we looked him up, we saw him like an hour later?

So here I am continuing this post from earlier this afternoon:

I did a bit of chemistry while I was sitting at your grave tonight. I still blame you for me having to take this class now, just so you know.

Turns out that's really all that happened today that is worth mentioning. Oh, but one other thing I would have loved to have you here to see: My dad's mom from Chinatown is moving in with us...and she's here now for a stay for a while. It's been interesting so far for sure, but I know you used to get a kick out of her, so I thought you'd appreciate knowing that as well.

I love you sweetheart. I miss you.

Monday, August 23, 2010

First Day of School


Today was one of those, "my husband is dead" days. I had to keep telling myself over and over that you wouldn't be at home for me to talk to after I got back from classes and that you weren't at school either and that you wouldn't be walking through the door to tell me how your day was. I wished you were here all day though. I wanted to tell you how my day went. It was kind of ridiculous actually but nothing too terrible happened, but I miss just being able to tell you simple things like how my day was or what is stressing me out. I've decided that this is one of the loneliest parts about losing a companion--I have no one left to talk to the way you and I talked. Sure people ask how my day was and I can talk about it just fine in a matter-of-fact type of sense, but it doesn't mean much. It actually doesn't mean anything.

I thought I had set my alarm to wake up early enough to give me plenty of time to get ready and get to campus this morning, but apparently I didn't leave as much time for myself as I thought because I arrived just as the class was starting. The thing was, that I walked into the auditorium, and I thought it would be larger actually, for that class at least, and all of the seats were filled and there were all these people standing against the walls, sitting on the floor in the aisles, and spread out everywhere. So....I found a spot in the back where there was a space for a wheelchair to go--you know, just like they had taken a seat out of the row or something--and sat down on the ground (meaning concrete floor). All these people kept looking at me (because I'm definitely pregnant-looking) and NO one offered me their seat. I didn't really expect anyone to, but the fact that no one did is rather nauseating. But, I always knew that you were one of a dying breed--chivalrous gentlemen.

The classes that I had for the rest of the day went fine, but I just can't believe I'm back in school. Doing all of this again. Again. Ugh. I really truly do hate that this is my life. I have to go to school and do all these new things that, yeah, I want to do for me and for the girls, blah blah blah, but you're not a part of it the way I need you to be, and that's really really hard for me to deal with. I can't do everything by myself, and school is something that not a lot of people can help me with in very many ways.

I just miss you and being able to come home and talk to you, and being able to come home and NOT talk about school or whatever, and just have you take my mind off of everything. It's hard here without you. I miss you.

I'm sure school will be a good distraction for me, but I hope it's not too distracting at the same time. Eh, well I'm sure I'll see what happens. I love you, honey, and I wish you were here to be here for me. I love you very much Sweetheart.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

2 Years Together

Dear Sean,

Yesterday was our 2 year anniversary. I remember our wedding day so well. It was so perfect, and you made it so special for me. Whenever there is a wedding, everyone focuses on the bride and how she looks and what she put together, but for me, I remember you. I remember how you looked when I was walking down the aisle to become your wife. I remember the expression on your face when you saw me coming. I remember what your hair looked like and what you were wearing I remember how tall you seemed when I stood next to you. I remember the feel of our hands holding each other as we stood and said our vows, and I remember what it was like to place your wedding band on your finger and know that you were mine forever. I remember the way you looked at me all evening--when we were eating together, saying hello to all of our guests, dancing, and driving off into the night. You had this look on your face like everything in your life at that moment was perfect and that nothing was more important to you than for us to just be there with each other.

God, I miss that look. I thought about that look all day yesterday. It haunted me. I thought about the way you always stayed near me and kept a hand on me or an arm around me so that I would never get too far away from you. But it wasn't in an obsessive, possessive type of way, it was very loving, and concerned. It was like, if you let me go, I'd disappear and you'd never be able to touch me again. That's how I felt letting you go at the hospital when you died. I didn't want to let go of you, because I knew that you were gone, and I'd never touch You again.

I remembered you all day yesterday, but mostly I remembered us together. There were several parts that made up what you and I were together, and some of that was you and I individually, but yesterday it was about our life together. And our life together truly did start long before we were married, even before we knew where it would lead. I always loved you for never doubting me or doubting us and for always giving everything you had into our relationship and marriage together. That was always you: 100%, right from the beginning. You made it so easy to love you, and yesterday I spent the day remembering how you made me feel on our wedding day, and I could remember the feeling of your love and how it would always come over me.

So we would have been married for 2 years yesterday, and that seems somewhat ridiculous to me, only in that I cannot believe it was only such a short time. It felt like so many more years than that, in a very very good way, and for the reality of the actual amount of time that we had together to set in--it's very depressing. We shared so much with each other over that period of time, it was like I had known you my whole life. We spent nearly 2 years finishing each other's sentences, reading each other's expressions, finding ourselves in each other while losing ourselves in each other at the same time, and learning that love isn't just a feeling, but that it's a choice that we made together every day, no matter how easy it was to choose to love you (and you made it very easy).

I truly loved every moment during the past 2 years (and further than that) that I had with you. I found a whole new person in myself every day that I was with you, and it was someone that I've grown into, and someone who is better, older, and wiser than who I was when you married me. You were so good for me, to me, with me. I will always love you for that. I still make that choice every day, to love you the way you always loved me, and I'll make that choice for the rest of my life. You are my husband. There is no one else who can claim that spot--not in the past, present, or future. And these 2 years that have passed us by are only the beginning of many many years (sometimes I fear) of our legacy. It's not over yet, even though you're gone. I'll be with you again someday, and it will be like you never left my side.

I know our anniversary yesterday would have been a happy one. And I hope that the day that I had remembering us together, and remembering you was good with you in the way it was good with me. There is so much I wish I could say to you, and in a lot of ways I have said it, and in some I still will. But let me just say now that I love you and that's all I need today to get me through to the end of today.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetheart

Thursday, August 19, 2010

We Were Here


Part of me feels like I'm further away from you, and part of me feels like this is the closest I've been to you since you left. I know you in this place like I know you everywhere else, and I can tell we've been here. It's like our fingerprints together are all over everything, and I can still sense them. It's hard without you all the time, no matter where I am. This week isn't over, so we'll see what else I can get through/put myself through. I hope it's all for the better, but it could take me steps backward. This part was all for you, for us. Watch over me, and you'll see how it turns out.

I love you so much, honey. I miss you here.

Monday, August 16, 2010

See What You Did


I have wished so hard that you were here with me tonight. It's been one of those days where things don't quite work out like you need them to, and I'm stressed, and you know how that is. It's just school stuff and I wish you were here so I could tell you all about it. I miss having you to talk to. I keep a lot of things to myself these days, not because I want to be withdrawn, but because there's no one else but you who I could say things to or just be comfortable with. I just want you to know that I've missed you a lot tonight. A lot a lot.

And on a side note, I'm blaming me having to take chemistry this semester on you dying. I was at your grave tonight, and I had my chemistry books in the car so I took them with me when I got out and I was looking through them and wasn't excited at all (you can imagine). So I said, "Look whatchya did, you went and died and now I have to take chemistry!". So really it is your fault that I have to take such an awful subject because really if you were still alive, I wouldn't be going back to school now would I. So.....I hope you're happy. Ha.

So see what you did? You died and now I miss you and I have to take chemistry. This is truly a tragic and awful situation, and it's your fault (I guess just on the chemistry thing. I don't blame you for dying). So good job at that. I miss you, I love you, and I wish you were here to see me try to attempt this semester. It's not going to be a good thing, it's not going to be easy, but I'm doing what I have to do in order to get other things done. That's how it's always been. I'm a do-er. I get where I need to be when I need to be there. And I'll continue that.

Anyway, I love you very much my sweet sweet husband. I miss you terribly, and I think about you constantly. I wish I could just hear you tell me you love me again. I miss that a lot. That would make everything better and much much more bearable. Well, since you can't tell me, I'll tell you again: I love you.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

More Memories


Remember when I tried to pay the guy at the drive-thru window and hit my hand really hard on the glass because I had forgotten to roll down the window? Yeah, yeah, you finally had one on me...

How about how you could never manage to open a door on the first try....even when it had a sign posted that said "pull" or "push". This was truly always one of my very most favorite things about you. I think I could have fallen in love with you simply over this anecdote alone.

I remember being exhausted at night and you coming to bed with me and us getting so caught up in the "You Laugh, You Lose" thread on TXB that we'd both get so hyper, I couldn't get to sleep for an hour after that. I loved laying in bed with you, laughing at the same things as each other because we agreed that they were either hilarious or painfully stupid. It always meant a lot to me that we shared the same sense on both of those things.

I just think about you all the time, and I try to make sure I get the good stuff in there as well as how much I miss you. I love you so much honey. Thanks for so many amazing memories.

P.S. ESPN showed some clip about Gasol in scrubs in an OR looking over a patient about to have a about a nightmare standing over you! Although, apparently he went to medical school in Spain... (And I'm still afraid his ugly face is going to crack the TV from the inside....) *Shudder*

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Out Loud


Do you know that sometimes I have to remind myself out loud that you are not here anymore? I still haven't gotten used to you not being here. Sometimes when I'm not consciously thinking about it, I still expect to see you sitting on the couch playing xbox when I walk through the front door. I have to remind myself out loud sometimes that when I get in the car to come home, I'm not coming home to you. Sometimes I have to remind myself and make an effort to remember while I'm laying in bed not to wait for you to come in and say goodnight. And when I say "sometimes", I mean more often than not.

I notice that you're not with me every Sunday when I'm at church and you're not sitting next to me. I notice that you're not with me every time I park in our spot and there's no one there to tell me not to park too close to the pillar so that the door won't hit it when it gets opened. I notice you're not with me whenever I go to the mail-room and open the door and check for spiders before I reach my hand inside. I notice you're not with me all the time, and all the time it's because I have to remind myself.

I hate having to remind myself of such a terrible thing. "Remember, Sean isn't here." "Remember, Sean isn't going to be home when you get there." "Remember, Sean isn't coming to bed because he's not here." I say these things to myself, out loud sometimes, because I still hope that you'll be there when I walk into a room or when I come home. Whenever I get a text, a little part of me hopes that it's from you, and of course it never is. And I have to remind myself, out loud sometimes, that I'll never see you when I walk into a room, come home, or get a text from you ever again.

I don't mean to sound depressing and to focus on what I don't have. But you're all I think about, and this is what I think about. I miss you, and I haven't stopped missing you, and I don't think I ever will. And when I miss you, and I remember that you're not coming back, there's very little left in the world for me to be happy about. And I refuse to pretend or put up a front for everyone else's sake. When they lose their husbands, they can come talk to me about how fast it takes them to be okay and non-depressing again.

I miss you every day, and I hate what that feels like. And I hate having to remind myself, out loud sometimes, that you're not coming back. I love you so much, and you're still my whole life. And even though I'm not sure whether or not I'll ever stop missing you, I know that I will never ever stop loving you, and that's just about the only thing that comforts me in any sort of way these days. I love you Sean. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Meteor Shower


Tonight there was this meteor shower that we all went out into the backyard to try to get a glimpse of. I didn't actually end up seeing anything, but everyone else says they did, so maybe I just wasn't looking at the right spots in the sky. This experience to me wasn't that great because today has already been a not-so-great day in terms of dealing with you not being here. All I could think about while I was looking to see if I could spot one of these things shooting across the sky was that even though these meteors are so far away, way up in the earth's atmosphere, and totally out of reach, at least they are within sight. I can see them, and know they're there, even though they aren't tangible. But with you, it's not like that. You're further away than the meteors are. I can't see you fly across the sky, or know that you're caught in the atmosphere. I hate knowing that you're so far away that even a telescope wouldn't show me where you've landed.

You've seemed so far away from me today. I don't like the feeling of distance between us. Sometimes I can handle you not being home with me, because I can trick myself into thinking that you're just out running errands or something like that, but when I start to feel like you're actually gone, and I start thinking about how far away from me you actually are, that's something that I just can't handle.

I miss you tonight, and I hope you have a better view of the meteor shower from where you are than I did from where I was. I love you so much, sweetheart.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Another 3 Things


Tonight I just want to remember a few things:

1. Your email to the high fructose corn syrup people. That was the best. It was so funny, I remember laughing so hard with you about it

2. Last Valentine's day when you took me up to the place where we got married and we just danced to our wedding play list for like an hour. It was amazing and so sweet of you to even think of something like that. You were the best at that kind of stuff and it made me enjoy being married to you so much because you always went out of your way to do things like that--to make the gesture--to show you cared.

3. When we were camping and you came running out of the trees like a little girl saying "go! go! we have to go now!" and you freaked out everyone because there was a giant moose that came following you out of the trees. It was funny as we were throwing everything into the car and trying to get away because it kept coming toward us. I remember laughing really hard because of the look on your face as you came screaming out of the woods back to the campsite.

Oh, there are so many things that we did together or that I remember about you. These are just another few.

I love you so much sweetheart.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Temper Tantrum


Today, I've just wanted to through a temper tantrum all day. Like a genuine serious hissy fit. And I mean the kind like a 5 year old does when his mom takes away his chocolate ice cream for throwing it at his little sister. It's like I had something so good and so incredibly amazing and it's been taken away from me and I just want it back. I want it I want it I want it! All day I've been so aggravated that you haven't been here, it makes me want to jump up and down and stomp my feet, and I really just might if I could manage to move my body around that way right now without pulling a muscle or falling.

It's just not fair. Why did this have to happen to us? Why couldn't it have been some other couple who hated each other and didn't care about each other or themselves? There are plenty of people like that in this world, and nothing terrible or tragic ever happens to them. And then there's us. We had each other and that was all that we wanted or needed, and we're somehow the ones that got told "no"? Like I said, not fair. You loved me so much and it showed so strongly through all of your pain, all of your worries, all of your concerns, and all of your fears. It was like, no matter how bad things looked for you, you were always more concerned about me and making sure that I was taken care of. And of course the love that I have for you is indescribable. You're everything to me and just knowing you were waiting for me at home, or sitting next to me, or looking at me from across the room was enough to make me feel like I had all the security in the entire world.

I really do want to pull a Sean and put my fist through the wall. I could probably get away with doing it in the spot that you did because now all that's standing between me and the hole is spackle which wouldn't hurt as much as drywall to punch a hole through. But, I don't think that would solve anything or really make me feel any better. And I can't really throw a temper tantrum and roll around on the floor banging my fists and stomping my feet because poor Gill would probably think I was being attacked and come running or something. But just because I can't doesn't mean I don't want to.

I'm just not happy with the way things are right now, obviously, and I don't want to sound ungrateful for the life that I've had, or the life that I'll be starting soon with our daughters, but again, just because it is so doesn't mean that I have to like it. This is not how I pictured our life going or my life ending up, and I think that I have the right to be upset about it and act a bit childish about the situation at times. I think it's called for.

I just miss you an impossible amount, and I wish that I could scream and cry and bang on things and have that bring you back to me. But I know it won't. I love you sweetheart, and if I ever do actually throw a tantrum, I'm sure you'll get a kick out of watching it happen.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Football Season


I wondering which will be harder for me to get through without you--the football season, or the Christmas season. I know a lot of people who would say "duh, of course the Christmas season will be harder, the holidays are always hard right after you lose someone", but literally (and I know how much you hate that word to be used outside of its actual meaning, but I really do mean "literally"), literally no one, one understands what going through this football season without you means to me. It's like a sledge hammer jut got heaved into my gut by the Strong Man at a freak show or something and all of the wind is permanently knocked out of my lungs. It's like trying to breathe but having my lungs fill with water instead of air. And that can't even justifiably describe what this is going to be like. I mean, tonight was just the first night of the preseason and when I got home it was like a dementor form Harry Potter had come and sucked out my soul or something.

Without you, there is no dogging on Chris Collingsworth and his perpetually increasing creepiness, or missing John Madden ("I'd draw the play for you here, but I just had these hot wings and boy are they messy!", or laughing (you'd be scoffing of course) at the Raider's lack of prime-time coverage this season. You're not here to mock me every time Josh McDaniels brings the Broncos one step closer to mirroring the Patriots, and you're not here to see me cringe and what he's already done to my team. TO is with Ochocinco at the Bengals now and only you'd appreciate how ridiculous that is like I do. I can't even bring myself to do Fantasy Football this year because without you it just makes no sense. Who would I complain to when Peesh comes in and ruins my season-long winning streak in the final game of the playoffs and wins the championship?

You are the only one who understood what this sport meant to me and I know what it meant to you, and it meant the same thing to both of us together, and now it's gone. I will always love football like I love my children but without you it's so not the same. And it's so strange because this was a part of me long before you were, but you've taken it with you to the grave now, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to get this part of me back again. Sure I can watch the games and keep up to date on what's going on with the new rules for the season and the players and coaches, but it has seriously lost a serious portion of its meaning, and it's truly tragic. And you'd just understand if you were here.

I think a lot of why I miss you is that I went from being completely understood by someone--someone who I could just totally be myself around, no pretenses, no lies--and I've gone from belonging with you to not fitting into the world again because everything is out of place since you're not here. Maybe I'm the puzzle piece that doesn't fit instead of me being the right piece with all the wrong ones being stamped into place around me. Even so, I've gone from belonging and being completely understood, to being a stranger again to even the people that are closest to me now. No one ever knew me the way you did, and I miss having that closeness with you.

We'll see how this season goes. I may just break down and cry every time I go to a Utes game or every time I watch football on Thursday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. I don't know what it will be like the first time I watch the Raiders play, or when I see Jordan Wynn throw his first touchdown pass of the season, or when Brett Favre decides whether or not he's coming back again. I imagine it will be something disastrous and tragic like tonight when I saw Emmett Smith and Jerry Rice talking about their Hall of Fame inductions. I really do need you here with me to go through this football season of being without you, but of course, that's not possible, and I hate it thoroughly.

I'll miss you with every yard gained this season, every field goal made, every pass caught in the end zone. I'll love you even more with every interception, sack, tackle, and holding penalty. You have managed to consume every aspect of my life, and whether that's healthy or not, it is what it is, and I'll somehow manage to get through this season like I get through brushing my teeth in the morning. You're not here for any of it anymore, and I have to remind myself (out loud sometimes) of that fact because it's like second nature for me to expect you to just be there to experience this season with me. I hate it for sure.

I love you so much sweetheart. Maybe I'll even wear your Asomugha jersey for good luck a time or two. I miss you and I'll be thinking of you this season. I hope that your Raiders don't suck it up....only because I'm sick of them taking up my airtime with their juvenile nonsense they like to call football. And the day that Al Davis dies...I'll bring a cake to your grave and we'll celebrate. I love you Sean--and don't tell me what happens this season, because I do want to watch and see for myself.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

2 Months


I was thinking about the fact that it's been over 2 months since you died, and that means a lot of different things to me. First of all, I cannot believe that I have survived these last 2 months without you. I feel like I'm living in my own version of Hell for sure, and God chooses to continue to keep me on this earth, separated from you. Each day has flown by around me but I feel trapped in slow motion like blinking takes all the effort that my entire body is capable of, and then the next second comes and I have to do it all over again.

Mostly what has been on my mind since this 2 month mark has passed has been about the last diagnosis you had. That day is still crystal clear, and why wouldn't it be--it was just 2 months ago. I remember you coming to my office and telling me that they had diagnosed you with leukemia and that they weren't going to be able to treat you and that Dr. Chandramouli expected you to only live for about 2 more months. It makes me wonder--if you had made it this far, would I be now where I was 2 months ago? Laying next to you in a hospital bed watching the color drain from your face? Holding your hand that grew colder and colder with each moment that passed? Wondering how the pieces of my life had become so shattered? Wishing that I were being lowered into the ground right with you? Would you be dead or dying now instead of 2 months ago? The babies still aren't here yet and your last wish was to hold them and kiss them, but at least at this point we would have known what we were having instead of being 2 weeks short of finding out. There are so many things like this that I think about. Was it better for me to have lost you 2 months ago when I wasn't as far along in my pregnancy? What would the last 2 months have been like? Would we have been able to make the most of our time together or would the knowledge that we were on a time line have tainted everything? No matter what our time would have been like together, I still would give anything that I have to have had that chance to be with you for that much longer.

You were always such a fighter and I always looked up to you and admired you so much for that. You showed me what it was to be brave, and you never complained. You taught me so much about life and about love and about how to make the most of even the little moments in life. You loved me so much and I still feel that whenever I think about you.

I can't believe you're gone. It's just not possible. We were meant for each other and it doesn't make sense for us to not be together. We are worlds apart and I feel that separation from you constantly. A lot of me still feels like I did 2 months ago, and so even if you had died now instead of then, I wouldn't feel any different.

I love you so much sweetheart, and I wish that we had had these last 2 months of time to spend together. Either way, you and I were robbed of something very special and I'll never get over that, just like I'll never get over you. I miss you so much. I love you with all of my heart and soul and I hope that the peace that you have now finds me someday so that I can manage to just live again.

I love you I love you I love you.

Thursday, August 5, 2010



Tonight was the Rush concert that you had tickets to go to with Andy. I forgot about it until a girl at work mentioned that she was going tonight, and it all came crashing back to me. My last day at work is tomorrow and so today before I left I took down all my pictures that I had at my desk (all of us of course) and that was hard to do for some reason too. I don't know if it's because it was like putting you away or something like that or if it's just all of the changes that are happening that are starting to get to me, but it was a surprisingly hard thing to do.

I know how excited you were for this concert. We should have known better than to let you have a ticket to a musical event. Every time you had a ticket to something you'd relapse or something would happen--we should have known, right? Ha. What was sweet about it though was that you were excited to be going with Andy more so than you were to be seeing Rush. It's not like you were a huge fan of them or anything--of course you appreciated the music and enjoyed listening to it, but it was more about catching up with your friend and spending time with someone you hadn't seen in a while. I've talked to Andy since you died and he looked up to you so much. He has told me more than once that the way you loved me has inspired him to try to do better at loving his own wife that way. He always gets me when he says that, because I know what he means. You really did love me in a very special way, and I miss that so much. We didn't just have a marriage or a strong relationship. We had something so much more that most people don't break through into until they have been married for many many years. It's like our relationship was a pokemon or something and we evolved early haha.

Honey you were such as special person. So many people loved you so much, and you really made a significant imprint on a lot of people's lives. That's a big deal considering how many people you had in your life and how little time you actually had on this earth. It's truly a great loss for this world that you were not able to go further in life and accomplish a lot of the goals you had set for yourself. I really believe that if you had made it that far, you would have been the one to find the cure for MS like you wanted to.

I miss you terribly today, Honey. It's been an overwhelming day. I haven't been able to shut my mind off at all and the things that have been running through it haven't been the most comforting. I dreamt a lot last night and had terrible nightmares. Sometimes my dreams give me a break and they're only strange (at best) but a lot of the time they're nightmares and I get limited and restless sleep. I wish you were there laying next to me in bed again so that I could just curl up next to you or reach out and grab your arm or hand. I still haven't gotten used to sleeping alone, and I still sleep on your side of the bed because I wouldn't be able to bear it if I were on my side and opened my eyes or rolled over and saw your empty place. And I still am sleeping with the t-shirt that the paramedics cut off of you as a sort blanket or piece. It was the shirt you wore on our first official date, and it's so ironic that it was the last shirt you wore too.

I just miss you so much it hurts all the time. I'm becoming more and more tolerant of the pain (doesn't mean it's not there just as strong or that I don't feel it as much) but maybe by the time I go into labor I won't even need an epidural. I love you with all my heart, and you're still my whole world. I can't wait until we can be together again.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

The Luckiest


I just wanted to use this song tonight because I know that you would understand it and that I wouldn't have to explain myself at all.

* * * * *
"The Luckiest" by Ben Folds

I don't get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

What if I'd been born fifty years before you
In a house on a street where you lived?
Maybe I'd be outside as you passed on your bike
Would I know?

And in a wide sea of eyes
I see one pair that I recognize
And I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you

Next door there's an old man who lived to his nineties
And one day passed away in his sleep
And his wife; she stayed for a couple of days
And passed away

I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way to tell you that I know we belong
That I know

That I am
I am
I am
The luckiest
* * * * *

I love you so much honey, and I miss you.

Monday, August 2, 2010



It's been just over two months since you died and my brain and body are still completely and entirely overwhelmed by all of the things that I remember about you and about what happened to you and what you and I went through. Some of it I think about voluntarily and some of it I experience as intrusive thoughts. I haven't really found any memories that I choose to block out over other memories or anything like that, because I feel like, no matter how bad the situation was, it's me remembering you, and I never want to stop doing that. Right now, I'm exhausted, physically and mentally so I think I'll keep this short, but I just wanted to say that no matter what the memory, whether it's a conscious thought or something that shoots into my brain on its own, I treasure everything that I recall of our time together, no matter how terrible the situation was. It is so strange to me that we could become so close together and develop such a strong and meaningful relationship and companionship over such an awful situation. There was so much good that came out of all of the terrible things that happened to you, and I'm so not thrilled about the way things had to happen in order for our relationship to reach that level, but knowing the level it did reach is one of the very few positive things I have left to hold onto these days.

You are my true love and soul mate and just as sure as I am that your body is lying in the ground at this moment, I am sure that there is no one else on this earth that would ever come close to fitting me the way you did. And so, even though we were robbed of our lifetime together and instead were only able to experience 3 short years together, I will always recall what we had and it will be one of the very few things that I will find comfort in, perhaps for the rest of my life.

I love you.

Sunday, August 1, 2010



I've been keeping really busy this entire week working on the nursery. It has sort of served as a distraction, but it has honestly made me think about you a lot. Saying that sounds a little ridiculous to me--like I don't think about you a lot already or something--but you've been on my mind this week, I guess more in terms of having the babies than anything else. I've missed you a lot. Friday night, Kyle and my dad came over and we were taping off the room to get it ready to paint on Saturday and it took us 10.5 hrs to do the entire room. We were there working on things until 5 am. As I was going to bed, I looked at the clock and remembered how so many nights I'd see that time on the clock as you'd come into bed and lay down next to me, finally, after a long night of insomnia. It made me miss you a lot. Remember when we were first dating and we could stay up until like 6 am just talking and sitting up with each other? I wish that we had been able to do that more closer to the end. I was so so tired during my first trimester and so so sick and I'm really sad about that because not only did that make me not appreciate that time of my pregnancy, it caused me to lose valuable and precious time that I had left with you, without even realizing it. This second trimester has been very different. I could have stayed up with you until I thought that I should go to bed at least instead of crashing and zonking out on you like a narcoleptic. When I was finally getting to bed after taping the walls for the nursery, I thought to myself in my head what a conversation between you and I would have been like at that point. You would have said, "wow honey, I can't believe you stayed up this late" and I would say, "I know, right?" and you would say, "It looks like it's going to be really good though. Do you like the design you chose?" and I would say, "thanks, yeah I think it will turn out really nice. I'm glad you were up to help me". I miss that with you so much more than I can even believe. It's such a simple thing, and yet, it's everything to me.

So here I am, on the brink of my 3rd trimester, and I never ever thought I'd have to do this without you. I never worried about being a single mom or ever pictured myself in that position, and yet here I am, and it feels so strange. You're written all over my life, physically and emotionally, and it doesn't feel like I'm a single mom. It feels like my husband is away and I'm just waiting for him to come back. It takes a lot out of me to remind myself every day that you're not coming back and that I really do have to do this. This is something I have to do, something I have to face and learn how to deal with and make happen. I refuse to wreck our children over the fact that you're not here and I don't know how to deal with it. You know me, I'm not the type of person to just give up and watch things fall apart around me. I have to do something, I'm the proactive type. So, I guess that's what this week with the nursery has been-me being proactive and getting something done without you that we would have been doing together. I'm heartbroken that you weren't here to have that experience with me because it would have been something that we would have held onto forever. We'd say, "remember when we were working on the girl's room and how great that was?" "Yeah, it was great because we great because we got to spend so much time together." I'll be sure to tell our girls that you would have done whatever you could have to help me get things ready because you loved me and you were so excited about their arrival that you wanted to be a part of everything to do with them. They were so loved by you, even in the few months that they existed while you were here, and that love for them will definitely be carried through the rest of their lives by the way I raise them. I'm raising them for us, and not just doing it by myself. I'm doing it for both of us the way we would have done it together, because that's what I believed in and what I wanted.

I miss you so so so so so much, honey. I wish you could be here with me now (I could use a back rub, I'm really sore!). I miss what our conversations right now would be and the way that you would hold me whenever you thought about the babies coming because you would be so excited you just couldn't take it. I love you for being the father to these girls that you were, even in the short period of time that they were a part of your life, and I'll do everything in my power each day to raise them according to the way that you and I would have done it together as a team. I love you so much. It's getting closer and closer to the time that the babies will be here, and that makes me love you more and more each day. I think the swelling in my feet just might be love for you, and not bad circulation really. Anyway, I love you I love you I love you.