The Road Less Traveled

It's funny the people that God brings into your life right when you need them or their wisdom to help you through something that you thought you might never have been able to over come. There are several people like that in my life, but two come to mind frequently. Maybe because their stories are very similar considering that they both live in two different states and only know each other through me and what I share with them. They both taught me something about who I am and they both did it in two completely different ways.

My friend Dee wasn't my friend at first; we had what most would call a business partnership. I only called her when I need her services and she only called on me when she had something I needed. Then one day we found our selves in a similar situation. We both were grieving over the loss of a relationship. While hers was a separation from her spouse and mine was the physical loss of mine - there was something that was similar and underlining. We both talked about the loss of the physical touch from our spouses and how something so small as holding someone hands meant to us. What it meant for someone to look at us as though we meant something and now not to have that - to miss it was down right heart breaking.

Her separation came around the time of Christopher's passing and her divorce became final around the time of Christopher's one year marker. So, we sorta journeyed together on this path of what is next in life and roughing it as you will through milestones we weren't sure if we could get through. We often sent texts to each other with words of encouragement and requests for vodka or gin. But the important part is we made it. :)

I'm very proud of my friend Dee. She is a strong woman with a great heart and is always there for her friends whenever you are in need. She has come leaps and bounds and has transformed herself from the person that she was before to who she is now - the Dee she always was and dreamed of being and even found someone that cares completely for her (which just warms my heart). She has shown me that even after a great loss - there can be another step in your life, another extraordinary love, another wonderful "something" as long as you leave your heart open to it. Words will never be able to express what it meant to travel this road with her by my side. She taught me allot about my own tenacity on this journey and what it means some times to grin and bare it. To do just what you have to do. She is just one of the people that has made me realize that what I write here needs to be shared with other people going through the same thing.

Then there is my friend Jay. We went to school together and recently reconnected only to find he too was going through something very similar that Dee was going through and almost on a similar timeline. Any while the both of them handled their situations differently (the difference between a guy and girl) he to taught me something about my self as well.

He taught me one of the most important lessons that I will carry around with my self - guys can be just as vulnerable as the girls. That no matter what my fears are in life; there is someone else out there with the same fears. We're all vulnerable. That not matter how hard you fight for something, sometimes it's just not in the cards. That life should be filled with light and love and anything that I would love for my self should also be good if not better for Ethan. He reaffirmed that while not many people understand what I do on a professional level, it doesn't mean it's any less harder.

He too has been through allot is going through his own self discovery and I know that one day he will find someone that cares for him and his son the way he dreams of. To have a relationship filled with radiance and devotion.

I guess you could say that while my journey is the road less traveled by those my age; I have had those in my life who traveled a road just as calloused. They are people in my life that I will always have a place in my heart. They helped me when I needed it the most. My appreciation for them runs deep - they were there when I felt the word spinning out from under my feet, but made me feel like I would never fall. Thank you guys.

Ethan's Turn

Muppet there is so much I wish I could say to you right now and have you understand completely what it means to me in my heart. I look at you and there are times when my heart breaks and I can't help but let me emotions run down and swallow me whole from the inside out, but then there are those other moments. The moments I shout to the heavens in splendor over the monumental strides you have made in your short little life.

I know I have and will tell you a thousand times over that you are named after your grandmother. Your middle name; her maiden name. And as they say in the movies - with a great name comes great responsibility. See a year ago today she left this mortal plane. Yes, just a few short days after your daddy's services, your grandmother passed away. She was 88 and a fighter. She was a woman I was close to and looked up to. Your name "Ethan" means strong leader and no other name would have the honor of standing next to your great grandmothers maiden name. She was a leader. She taught me so many things that I don't think I could pick just one to tell you - all of her life lessons are meaningful and beautiful to me and as you get older I will share them with you.

Ethan, my emotions over the course of this year have run the gambit and yet in the end there has always been one little person standing by my side. You. As your mum, my fears for you fall down like rain upon me and while I find my self from time to time hydroplaning across these thoughts - that look in your eye and twinkle in your smile keeps me grounded. No matter the drama that unfolds in my day, you are there my Muppet to run into my arms and tell the whole world (or at least those in your day care), "That my mommy. Love you Mommy." Those six little words make all the drama melt away and makes me remember all the beautiful things in life.

I wish I could see the world through your eyes, a world without prejudice, pain or evil. A world that is filled with excitement over learning a new letter, color or number. I know one day you will grow up, but I hope that when you do - you still remember what it was like to live life so vicariously. Ethan, I will always be proud of you no matter who you are or grow up to be. Yes, my dreams and hopes for you are great; just as any parents' dreams, wants and desires would be for their child. But I also know that life is what you make of it and my only want in your life is for you to be happy. You could be a starving artist or a multi-million-dollar CEO, at the end of the day I want for you to be able to go home and smile at what you have.

As you get older you will find that there is allot you can change about your life, where you live, your friends, your job. But the one thing you can't change is that I love you and I will never be able to stop loving you. You are a part of your daddy. My little reminder of the way he was. You are very much a little smarty parts and you so get that from your daddy. The way you laugh - just like your dad's. And if I may be so bold to say it - both your eyebrows operate in the exact same manor. I guess what I am trying to say Muppet is that there is a part of your dad inside you - it's a part that wasn't learned - it's just a part of him locked in your soul. So when ever you feel lonely or that you miss him; just look in the mirror. You and him - you all share the same reflection.

I love you Muppet.

Mum

This is Real. This is Me.

On Monday Ethan and I went out to visit Christopher and give him some flowers. While driving up to the cemetery I could see that there had been a funeral. I will admit that even looking at a funeral brings back allot of feelings that I have worked hard to work through, yet it is still agonizing to see one or the aftermath of one. Driving around to where Christopher was I saw the little tent they put over the new grave, the casket on it's mighty perch, the rose flowers that adorned the top of it and a single woman with her sunglass on just sitting there. My heart dropped, I knew her place, the amplified pain in her heart that she felt, and her frame of mind. I pushed on past her and around to Christopher's grave. I told my self over and over I couldn't deal with this today - not this day.

I put the car in park and looked in my rear view mirror. I saw Ethan - so much like Christopher. I saw the small figure of that woman sitting at that grave beyond him. Then there was me, tears quietly streaming. Out my right window was Christopher. I was there for him and yet all I could do was think of that woman. Alone. It ate at me. I didn't know her story, and hers is different than mine - yet we all share the same emotions - we both lost someone we cared for, loved and treasured. I composed my self, got out of the car, then Ethan and I went for a walk.

I knew Christopher wouldn't mind if the first stop we made wasn't for him. There was something else I needed to do first. Something was pushing me to do what I was about to do; what I don't know, but it felt natural. I walked down the path towards this woman. The scene was an all to au fait; dressed in black, using sunglasses to hide the sorrow, having everyone there and yet feeling completely alone - I knew the model. As I walked up to her she turned and surveyed Ethan and I, but I don't think she knew what to say or do.

"I know you don't know me," I replied.

"No. No I don't know you," she said as if I was going to give her some other news flash she didn't want to hear this day. I explained how Ethan and I were out visiting Christopher, how he had passed away a year ago this very day and I thought she needed a hug. I wanted her to know that there are people out there that care even though she might not know them.

She started to cry. She said she had been waiting for them to physically burry the casket. She needed to see it, she needed that part of her closure - she needed to see it done, she couldn't stand the thought of leaving him like that, up on his perch. She talked about how her family wanted her to leave and she was sure they were all talking about her at the church reception calling her nuts, crazy, and even overly emotional. I sat next to her, held her hand, took a breath and as if it just flowed from my lips without even thinking about it told her that people are going to talk.

"They are going to talk about you, the great things you do and the weird things. It's the nature of the process. Death brings meaning into peoples lives and sometimes that meaning is pointless, but there are times when it's prolific. The thing that you need to remember is, you do what you do. What makes you feel comfortable; because in that is where the healing begins. Only you know what you need. So do what feels right in your heart."

She cried. Thanked me. Told me I was her angel. We said our goodbyes and Ethan and I went back to what the original plan was - visiting with Christopher. Walking back to Christopher's grave, as I walked I looked over my shoulder back at that woman dressed in black. And as if God was trying to play it all out for me, I got it - the symbolism of it all. Looking back at this woman, that was me - then, the path I walked back to the car, my journey - now and what lies beyond Christopher's grave - my hopes.

On the way home I contemplated this symbolic moment in time that God afforded me to have. This week the cycle became complete. I won't lie it was hard, yet empowering that I did it - I made it a year. The bills got paid, I made the choice to put Ethan in pre-school, there has been food on the table every night, laundry got done, a roof was fixed and a new fence was put in. And I did it all - on my own. That is not anything that anyone can take from me. If there is anything I can take from this year it is that I am a survivor. I have looked the most difficult of times in the eye - stared it down, most importantly didn't blink and told it to bring it. But then again I am a 5ft-2 spicy-part-Itailan woman. I'm sorta born with 'tude if you will; it flows through my veins like propane.

A year ago I was that woman sitting by her husband's grave, questioning "what's next? what am I suppose to do?" It had only been 16 short months prior to that that I was planning what great anniversary gift I was going to get the man I loved, the man that gave me a beautiful child, the man that meant the world to me. I was planning a great evening of candle light, romance and everything that goes with it. What I got him was a visit from his Aunt who had been told she had stage four breast cancer and beat it in the hopes that it would give Christopher hope that he could beat his cancer. We spent our anniversary in the hospital, his room adorned with photos of Ethan and I, flowers and cards of wishes of "getting well soon". That's sorta when life changed. I changed.

After countless hours of therapy I have come to terms that was the weekend that I started the grieving process. It was hard for me to shake the feeling that we had been down this road with his mother - was this the same road and path that was meant for Christopher? I told my self - his mom fought for 3 years - he can fight for more. And as much I was "Sally Sunshine" to my friends and told them I had hope - the little voice in the back of my head told me to enjoy the time I have with him, because nothing in this world is promised to us.

I spent countless hours doing research during my lunch hour trying to see what new cancer research was out there - what were doctors finding out about cancer - what natural remedies were people finding helpful with the side effects of chemo. I knew more about cancer than I ever wanted to. I was a wife, mother, nurse, housekeeper, friend and therapist. In the last few months of Christopher's life I took care of everything. He's only responsibility was his own work and beating cancer.

I had my moments of sorrow and broke down on him and in only Christopher fashion he made me feel better; that he could beat anything. Besides he always got what he put his mind to - he had me right... He was my rock and all I could wonder was how was I to make life move along without him?

Am I that same person who sat out by that grave a year ago? No. I've had to become so much more. The strong mother, the fun-loving daddy, the breadwinner, and everything else that I was before - and do it all with a smile. I've gained a shell that's a little harder around the edges, I don't put up with, well excuses the term, bullshit - life is way to short to deal with excess drama that doesn't even need to be brought up. I won't justify it. I've always been the sarcastic one - I'm just a little more so now - ok maybe more like ten fold (but whos really keeping track right). I've learned to forge my pain and frustration into sarcasm and amazingly some people find it down right funny while others think I'm being mean. And well, oh the _____ well. I've been through allot, 'nuff said.

I've learned to be a Mommy and Daddy to Ethan. I refuse for Ethan to feel left out of Father-esique projects just because he can't physically give his Daddy his love or a school made version of a soup-can-made-pencial-case. I am both. I can be the stern dad and loving mom. I am building memories so one day when Ethan asks "other kids go camping with their daddy's why can't I?" I can look him in the eye and tell him that his daddy with him always - to explain that when the wind blows on his face, it's his daddy telling him he's proud of him or when it rains down upon him, it's his daddy's tears of love that fall upon him. I will be both for my muppet; the one that plays catch, shows him how to fish, hike, camp, and anything else that boys do with their daddy's.

I will still have days that are hard and there will be days that find my self not in check with my emotions, but I know I made it a year and I will make it through many more.

One of my favorite lyrics is from a song by 10 years' "Day Dreamer" - "the day dreamers nightmare is to never even try." How true is that statement; it's my new motto in life. I am a day dreamer. Always have and always will be. Recently though my day dreams went on sabbatical for the last two and half years. With that said I've been trying to get back to my child like ways and start to day dream again. Right now my day dreams are more hopes than anything, but it's a start, right?

I hope that one day Ethan understands what has happened in his life - that I have given him the foundation of faith and love to accept the hand of "52 pick up" that we were delt. That he finds peace in his heart and mind and that he isn't afraid to ask questions about his daddy.

I hope that one day I am blessed with more children. Yes I said it - I would love to have more children. Is it in the cards? I don't know. Having more children means meeting someone and having a relationship and well that scares the living "shiznit" out of me. I knew how to have a relationship with Christopher - how do you have one with someone else? But then again this is my hope, so I hope one day I figure it out (but I'm in no rush to figure it out either). And to be honest as much as I would like to have more children, I am also at peace if in the end it has been God's plan all along for it to just be the two of us.

I'm glad I went to that woman, sitting there all alone. Even if she left there thinking I'm nuts, the act of going to her and talking to her helped me understand the "d" that looked backed on who she was, is and wants to be. This is real. This is me.

D Day

To My Love,

Today, a year ago, you left this mortal plane. Today is hard for me. Today completes a cycle, one that I dreaded and yet one that I needed to come. This has been one of the hardest years of my life, trying to learn how to do it all and "do-it-with-a-smile" as you liked to put it.

I didn't go to work today - today is your day my love. The idea of sitting behind a desk listening to people bicker over the little things in life seems tright right now. You always knew it was the little things in life that made me happy and you were wonderful about how you did them too. From the "I (heart) U" post-it notes all over our apartment, to the love letters written in dry erase marker on the shower door and most of all, the way you looked at me and crack a grin - I knew with one look you loved me from the inside out. That your love for me could never be justified in an action or assemablance of words - your love was that strong. I miss that, more than you will ever know. I miss that cocky grin and those dimples - they lit up my world. The nap of my neck misses the way you would run thumb over it to let me know that even though I had a rough day - I was home and the day was over - tomorrow would be a new dawn. My nose misses the way the bath room would smell of your cologne after you would get ready for work. My ears miss the way you answer your phone - "hey there love"...

If there was ever a question in your mind if you were a good dad - let me put your mind at ease. You were the GREATEST Dad known to man. No matter how tired you were - you made sure that you checked on Ethan every night and made sure that he felt loved with every second you had with him. He couldn't have asked for a better Dad. I know your family situation was not what you wanted for him and you did everything in your power to make sure he never went through what you did. You knew where those faults lie and you avoided them with grace and sophistication. Ethan has some rather large shoes to fill my love, but please know this, I will keep your memory alive for him. There will not be a day that goes by that he won't know his daddy loves him and what you did for him. He will know of your journey, your fight, your will and your love. Ethan one day will make a loving husband, devoted father and exceptional friend and he owes part of that to you.

Our life time was spread over 16 years and in those 16 years we had our own up and down journey of heart ache: your mum's passing and the drama that ensued after that, my grandfather, Katrina and your own awkward family situation. Most people take a life time to do everything we managed to squeeze into 16 short years. But I will always remember every moment, minute, second as if I was living it all over again. You gave me strength when I had none, you found the beauty in life when all I saw was darkness, as I once said, "if life was like a box of chocolate - you were the road map on the inside letting me know where the good caramels were and where the nasty nugget lay." You were my best friend in life. I knew if I had a problem, you would be there with open arms to give me a hug and then tell me I was nuts for thinking the things I do - that's what made me love you twelve ways to Sunday. You loved me and yet could still tell me I was crazy and laugh at me without making me feel like an outcast. You were my coach and my defender. There wasn't anything I could do to disappoint you, you loved me in all my silly ways and in all the ways that made me, well me.

This year has been tough. Some would say this year has been a discovery of who I am - but that's far from the truth; I know who I am - you always made sure that I was consistently true to my self. This year has been a year of figuring out how life moves along without you. Time does not stop for any one or anything; it's cruel that way. Nonetheless, it's also a blessing that it does keep moving. One of your favorite sayings was, "time will only tell". I hated that phrase, because it meant I had to wait for time to pass - and well me and waiting - well umm - 'nuff said.

You know, my love, my dreams will never be what I expected it them be; sometimes I feel as though I don't belong - an outcast in my own surroundings. Who would have guessed it, me not fit in. It's so hard sometimes to see the looks when I tell people I am a widow. People can be cruel, but I know that grief is a nobel act; after all, it is emblematic of the deep love between us and my sorrow makes me more human than those people. I know in our toughest of times, you were the one to tell me "something" that while at the time seemed simple and understated was the greatest epiphany one could have. You were a sage in my eyes; knowing you has made me a part of who I am - the person that sees the good in everyone and doesn't judge based on first impressions. So I tell myself these people who don't know how to pick their mouths up off the floor - just never had anyone like you in their lives. ;)

I was listening to "our song" the other day - it really is our song. Listening to lyrics and the meaning. You were and are my flame. The light that filled my heart and will keep filling my heart. I will love you - always. You are my hero and through your memory I will send on the light you brought into my life to others. You will never really die in my eyes, because you live in the twinkle of Ethan's smile and the reflection of my own eyes.

You are a great man Christopher - notice I didn't say were - that's because your mission in life isn't finished - your story lives on. Today is for you. I love you for everything you did for me, my family and most all Ethan.

I love you My Love,
-d

Bittersweet October

Everyone has a favorite month out of the year, for some it's due to a holiday or special occasion, for others it's a change in weather. For me it's sorta all of the above. October is a month when the weather starts to change and become cooler; pleasant. It's also a month filled with events in my life that I hold dear to my heart: Christopher's Mum was born in October, so was my Grams, I met Christopher, Ethan was conceived (over sharing I know), October was the first month Christopher and I both thought of to have our wedding (but couldn't wait that long so picked May) and we can't forget Halloween! So in a nut shell - October has always brought me happiness. I've known for awhile that October is my month - if anything is going to happen - it will always be in October. That's how I knew after the phone call from Christopher's doctor that he wouldn't pass away anytime before October. October was our month and Christopher always had a way of getting what he wanted....

So recently in grief therapy, my therapist has asked me to re-live if you will the events and personal thoughts of the month leading up to Christopher's passing and what October now means to me. And I have debated heavily over wither or not to share that part of my story. My mind goes all sorts of topsy-turvy of why I should and shouldn't. Sometimes I feel like people need to know that death isn't pretty. Death in-and-of-itself is peaceful - it's the suffering that is gut wrenching. But then again, I want to keep Christopher's memory of how people remembered him in the way they want to remember him - people don't need to read in my allegorical way the events leading up to his passing. However, it is those events that have shaped me into who I am today and why I am such an advocate to do what I can for those with cancer and their families.

I've tried to burn out the memories of some of the things I went through and hard as I might there are also things I will never be able to forget. They will live with me, locked in a box and I have swallowed the key. I've dealt with these events and the feelings that were birthed from them, but if I was even asked - I would not share. There is a show that I like to watch and have found it to be very cathartic lately with their new topics of good vs. evil, but I digress. Shortly after Christopher passed away, the clip below aired. I watched this scene over and over and over. This character was me and the words that came out of his mouth were like they were my own. The character (literally) spent some time in hell and while talking to his brother, he tells him why he can't share what he went through. It's better than any words I can form here.