It was Friday around 3pm when the world stood still. The trees rustled with leaves of yellow and orange hues against their dark trunks. For that brief moment in time there were only two people who existed standing next to each other on a cool, damp afternoon. The sounds of the day were muted with only the sounds of one man and his beating heart. Images flashed before my eyes like I was reliving all that I had gone through through the last few years.
In an instant I was brought to the day that I had convinced myself that I would never be in another relationship; that the idea of being a single-mom for the rest of my life was not only God's plan, but a plan that I could live with. How was I ever going to love when my life was filled with so much fear and loss? How was I going to share my life with someone when my heart had built a wall to protect not only myself, but the love I shared with someone else? The person who was my whole world, my friend, my everything. I was afraid to ever love and open myself up to anyone again because I was afraid of being hurt by something so out of my control. Little did I know, that understand why I closed myself off was just one step closer to unlocking all the pain and really listening to what God's (the universe, whatever it is you put your faith into) plan for me was.
It was a Saturday that I went on a run that changed my life. God shut down all the outside noise of my iPod so that he and I could talk. And I could really listen. My mind was cleared of all that stood in front of me and I was left with just the words and signs that God, the universe or whatever it is you believe in put in front of me that morning. I finished that run and fought back tears that I not only finished a 5k (my first ever), but there was a release that happened when I crossed that finish line. Fear started to leave and it was filled slowly with strength and reaffirmation of my faith. My eyes were open for the first time in a long time and the sounds that I forced myself not to hear started to make a faint and distant sound. I was one step closer to releasing all the misconceptions that I forced myself to believe in.
On a vacation trip with my family I woke up one morning and started to realize how much someone meant in my life. When I thought about him I wanted to text him and see how his day was going, but I was still so full of doubt. Doubt in letting myself go somewhere I didn't think I could ever come back from. Doubt over the idea that my heart may fall and break into a million pieces all over again. Maybe it was better to just keep myself walled up on the inside. Safe from all that could possibly happen. Little did I know that I was one step closer to letting everything go.
On a January afternoon I sat at my computer and let my fingers run across a keyboard trying to explain to the world how I was with a man I had nicknamed "The MusicMan". I was again flooded with the idea of fear. How people would react? I was scared that some might find it disrespectful and others would be too overjoyed. As my fingers danced over letters and my eyes darted with each word, my mind processed it all and I was filled with a sense of joy, happiness and peace. I was writing about a man that not only cared about me and my son, but respected all that we had gone through.
He was the one who taught me that the package deal I had always thought was just Ethan and I was a complete misconception on my part. The package deal was me, Ethan and Christopher. He taught me that people have a past and it can't be ignored but cherished for how it molds the person they are to become and will be in life. At times, I felt like I was in a fairy tale that I would wake up and find everything wasn't real. How could this man be so compassionate towards what I went through and yet so strong to put up with me and my sometimes emotional hurricanes that blew through from time to time? But he did and he brought me one step closer to understanding that I didn't need to know everything in God's plan, I just needed to put faith in myself and trust in that there is one.
He supported me through the 5ks we ran, the life choices I made for Ethan and myself and and even when I changed the way I ate he found ways to keep me on track. When I was hard on myself he would come over and tell me to look at him, and to gaze upon his eyes was hard. For in them I saw the way he sees me. Strong. Gentle. Loving. Bull-headed. A Fighter. A Mother. Independent. Rough around the edges. Sometimes full of fear. Yet with the gentle touch of his hand and the way pushes my hair around my ear all that leaves me and am replaced with peace. In that brief moment I am allowed to be transparent and all that consumed me to be let go. I am allowed to be me. The "d" I thought I once lost. I was just one step closer to understanding what this man meant to me.
It was a cool September morning that the MusicMan and I ran a 5k together and ran it side-by-side. It was in that run that my heart swelled with such joy and happiness. Here was a man that supported me in so many ways that my words often fail me when I want so desperately to explain to him that everything he does for me and what it means to deepest recesses of my soul. Here in that run was the physical manifestation of everything that he had done for me. By my side: when life speeds up, slow downs, feels like an uphill climb or downhill coast; he is there by my side pushing me through when I need it the most.
In his eyes I find the grace and beauty this world has. The touch of his hand takes away all my worries and fears and replaces them with peace. There isn't a morning that goes by that before my eyes have opened and my feet hit the floor that I haven't already thanked God, the universe, or whatever it is you believe in that the MusicMan is apart of mine and Ethan's life. His love and support truly has brought me one step closer to where I am today. At peace and happy.
It was a Friday around 3pm when the world stood still at the Dallas Museum of Art. While all these images flashed before me and where I had come from; the journey this world has brought me through; I watched in awe as the man who had helped me, supported me, let my tears and sobs fill his ears, knelt down on one knee before the battleground of memories that flashed before me. His gentle eyes gazing up at me; he uttered the words,
"You make my life beautiful as the work of art that sits here. Will you always make my life beautiful? Denise will you marry me?"
I fought to hold back the tears that wanted to push through and enjoyed the moment of how time stool still for us. I took one step closer and hugged him. I could feel both our hearts beating fast in rhythm with each other. Every breath, every sigh, every tear that had been ever shed during every hour of every day and every year had come to this...
My heart grew to include another who's love was different; yet equal in it's strength. God's plan that had laid out over the course of time was unveiling it's self briefly to me that even with great sorrow there is always a plan. One only needs to trust in it; to put all of themselves to it.
I've overcome so much and in that I've had the strength of one man to show me what it meant to be loved by the inside out and what love feels like from the inside out. I learned how to be a fighter and never let the world take from me what means the most to me and Ethan. Then I was blessed to have another man come into my life that showed me what great friendship means and how love can be found again when you least expect it. How letting yourself be loved is sometimes the most difficult task, but when you allow yourself to tear down the walls that surround your heart and open yourself up; another great love can be brought to you. Everything in time. One step closer to God's plan.
(ps... I did say yes and my little muppet is to the moon and back with excitement!)
I know I haven't written in awhile. Life with a six-year-old can be one where days seem to pass with the blink of an eye and I'm left wondering where all the time went. October 12th was the 4 year anniversary of Christopher's passing and the day that I made (in my own eyes) a brave choice. I won't lie, I prayed for months over this. It wasn't easy. In fact, it was gut wrenching at times. My stomach twisted and turned with the pros and cons of what it meant to me and Ethan. My mind went back and forth with "should I?" or "shouldn't I?" In the end, I chose the answer to be "yes"… On that fateful Friday (October 12th) I explained in my words, and the only way my soul would let me, to Ethan what made that day special… that on that day 4 years ago his dad left this mortal plane and went to heaven.
Up to this point I always made that day special for him and I. I have always taken that day off to remember the sacrifice and fight that Christopher made for us. Working (for me) on that day seems trite and I choose to fill it full with reflection, meditation, running and enjoying the little things with my Muppet. For Ethan this day means being able to ride his bike to school, lunch with mommy and a trip to visit daddy and partake in some cupcakes (i.e. - cupcakes with daddy). Up to this point I made the day special without ever sharing "why". It was just special in it's own right.
Why did I do this? Well for one, I didn't want Ethan's life to pass through the whirlwind of time we all get caught up in and never know or understand what October 12th meant to us. For him. I never wanted him to look back and ask why I kept that day to myself and in return possibly mark his life with feelings of death being something horrible and to never be spoken of aloud. I've always been very upfront with Ethan on everything else concerning his father and it just seemed like it was time to explain and bring everything full circle into Ethan's understanding. This moment has always weighed heavily on my mind because I knew the day would eventually come. I wasn't sure when that day would come, but at some point I knew it needed to be explained. And I needed to do it soon. I didn't want time to pass between me and my thoughts; then one day Ethan knows because he can read the marker that sits so perfectly where his dad is laid to rest.
Every choice I've made in my life has always come with a reflection of what that choice meant to Ethan. To me. To the both of us. I have always been cautious, always looking at both sides of everything before I made my choice. I consulted my therapist. Ethan's play therapist. I prayed over and over for guidance in something that I knew only I would know the answer too. I knew that only I would know if the time was right and if Ethan could handle it.
During the week leading up to this Friday I was a rubber band of nerves. Some days stretched me to my emotional limit while other days bounced quickly back from other emotions that flooded my mind. But that week was consumed with the thoughts of how I was going to explain this to my little Muppet. As I drove home with Ethan during that week, we talked about his days at school; the highs and lows of his day. From the back of the car there was a brief moment of silence then, "Ummm, Mommy…. you know Friday is donuts with dad at school?"
My eyes rolled swiftly back behind my sunglasses and my heart sank. The school puts on a book fair kickoff with a morning where Dad's come to school with their kids to partake in donuts and walk through the book fair (emotional marketing at it's finest). I responded after a brief pause with, "Oh really…." To be honest I wasn't sure what to say because the correlation between the fact that I was going to break some rather big news to my little Muppet on the day he was asking about blew my mind. My thoughts were interrupted with, "Mommy, do you think Mr (MusicMan) would go with me? If he can't it's ok… maybe he can just bring me donuts that day if he comes over?"
My eyes slowly, yet quickly, flooded with tears that I wouldn't let fall. Here was my muppet who knew his dad was in heaven and yet he has a bond with the MusicMan that is so very special that he would ask if he could go with him to Donuts with Dad. I told him that Mr (MusicMan) was going to come over that night and that he should ask him if he would like to go. Ethan quickly ended with an "ok" and moved onto the next topic that happened at school that randomly floated into his head at that moment.
Meanwhile, my head started to turn and swirl with everything that was leading up to a day I wasn't sure if I could tell Ethan how the day we were approaching made it special to us…. That night Ethan did ask the MuiscMan to go with him to "Donuts with Dad" and I was so very blessed that the MusicMan's response was one I wasn't expecting. He calmly told Ethan that he needed to talk to me about it and he would let him know. Then while Ethan took a shower the MusicMan turned to me and asked me my feelings on it. He expressed how he didn't want to invade into the day knowing what it meant and what I was about to tell Ethan on that day, but he would be more than happy to take Ethan to Donuts with Dad if I was ok with it.
My soul swelled with pride. Pride for a man that not only respects me and Ethan, but the memory of someone he never even knew. There was no explaining to him all the thoughts that ran into my head. He already knew them because he puts Ethan and I first in his life. And that made my response even easier. I didn't have to think about it, I already knew that if Ethan wanted it and the MusicMan - I wanted it for them. I knew that the MusicMan wanted to do this for my Muppet and that makes the bond between them even more special in my heart.
The MusicMan jumped off the sofa with a swiftness and walked over the bathroom door and yelled into bathroom to Ethan that he would be happy to take him. My heart beat with a proudness in both these men. One for the little man who loves life with so much zest and zeal that it shows in the twinkle of his eye and his soft little sighs. And for the man who loves both of us for not only us, but what we have been through. For a man who thinks about how we will feel and walks with those emotions with a firm foot and soft step.
Friday morning the MusicMan came over around 6:30am and took Ethan off to school for the morning donut event. I went for a run.
My run was once again filled with memories; good and bad. Filled with thoughts of all the blessings in my life that God, the universe or whatever it is you believe in brought into my life. I had an amazing love with a man who fought tooth and nail for me and our child. He showed me that strength comes from within.
I thought about all the people that were and are in our lives; who where there for us helping us when times got rough. The kindest of strangers that flooded my house for months with food, blessings, cards, and more than I could have ever imagined.
Thoughts of where life has taken me. How at that very moment a man was sitting eating donuts with my Muppet and I knew in his heart he was enjoying every moment. He wasn't replacing Christopher, just picking up where Christopher couldn't.
My mind started building a stage where I could see my Muppet and MusicMan sitting across from each other talking about Batman and Star Wars. I could see Ethan's little laugh and the MusicMan's smile in the conversation. I could see beyond all else the bond these two had. From there I drifted into a conversation with Christopher where I expressed some things I was holding onto. Things that are private to me and him, but I needed to share with him my thoughts and let go some of the pain over his cancer I carried around. I told him I knew he was in a better place - one filled with light and love.
I went on to explain to him that I felt like the Widow from the bible who goes and gives all her money to a temple treasury. How Jesus explained to his followers that "this poor widow cast more in than all that have cast into the treasury; for they all cast in of their abundance, but she of her want cast in all that she had, even all her living."
I reached a point in my life where I knew, to understand and be at peace with everything in my life, I needed to give my all into my healing, to opening my heart and most of all the faith in God's plan. I knew that while I could always give what I felt comfortable with; it wouldn't be what was right and healthy for Ethan or I. I needed to be that widow in the temple and just give all that I had, even all of my living…
That day I ran 3.3 miles for the 33 years of Christopher's life.
The rest of the day was filled with meditation and lunch with my Muppet. After lunch I picked him up from school and we came home. After a little snack I asked him to sit with me. I thought for a moment I would chicken out and remembered my conversation with Christopher and the widow from the bible. I asked Ethan if he knew why this day was so special.
"Ummm, because we get cupcakes with Daddy?" he replied. I smiled and said, "well yes… sorta." I went on and explained how his dad on this day lost his battle with cancer, but not because he didn't try, because he tried really hard, but in the end it wasn't God's plan. I explained how on this day he went to heaven and that is what makes this day special.
Ethan quickly looked at me and smiled with his impish little grin and said, "so it's Daddy's birthday!"
Ummm, what? Say what? My mind raced with what did I explain wrong? How of all things did Ethan get that today was his dad's birthday? Then before I could fathom how to word my response Ethan put his hand on mine and said…
"Mommy today is Daddy's birthday because today is the day he went to heaven. So it's his birthday into heaven. Right?"
My heart swelled with the thought that my child is sometimes wiser than his years at times and how it's in his perspective that I've learned so much. I was expecting tears, confusion, something other than the epiphany that this day was Daddy's birthday into heaven. Such a positive twist that I never even thought to consider. A perspective that only my Muppet would have.
That little moment that I spent so much of my time dwelling over and making me sick at times was over and gone in an instant. It was again as if God, the universe or whatever it is you believe in was telling me that when you give yourself over to the things you can't control, it all works out in the end. Sometimes it's just takes a new little perspective…
Pax.
