A Therapeutic Run

(This was on the back of the shirt I wore)

Friday night I couldn't sleep. I was for the most part anxious and scared. I was about to run 3-point-something miles the next morning and I was doing it for the grace and wonderment that I have for two beautiful people - Christopher and Ethan. I sat in bed at midnight thinking, "fall asleep, falllll aaaa sleeeeep," but I couldn't because my mind kept questioning if I was even ready for this, can I even do this? Yes, I've trained for a year, but on a treadmill, not the street - how different is it going to be? The treadmill kept my pace for me; I didn't have to regulate it on my own. Then some where in my own mental banter to myself I drifted unknowingly off to sleep.

I awoke at 6am to get ready and while I was making coffee I realized - it was raining. Damn it! I quickly grabbed my phone and checked twitter to see if the race was still on and it was - rain or shine. Again I began again my mental banter of if I could do this - was I going to crap out and end up stopping or walking some of it? I didn't want to, that was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to RUN this thing and do well at it. It was in those moments that everything began to fall together for what this run really meant for me. Yes the run was for memory of Christopher and for the future that still waits for Ethan, but for me it was (and ended up being) the most awe inspiring thing I think I have done in the last three and half years. And I needed it so much.

My neighbor Lauren ran it with me and to be honest I couldn't have asked for a better person to run with. She was there when I got the phone call and like so many of my other friends, family and neighbors she was there every step of the way through the last month of Christopher's life. She even came over and sat with me while I drank away my sorrows on the one month anniversary of Christopher's passing. She's one of those friends that lets you completely word vomit all over yourself and doesn't look at you any different. She just listens, smiles and lets you know that no matter how crazy life becomes or you think it's become, she's right there through the craziness with you. I could go on-and-on about this amazing woman, but lets just leave it at I was truly blessed to have her run this with me.

As we got to the race location the rain was letting up just a little and I started to think that this was going to turn out to be a very pretty day. First on my agenda was to find Jenny and tell her how incredible the turnout was; so we headed up to where the opening ceremonies were to be held. We got there just as it began to sprinkle again and it soon dawned on me that this rain just might not let up. As I stood in the rain getting completely wet my mind and memories were brought to the day Christopher and I said "I do". That day was so very similar to this one. Rain in the morning and just when we though it would let up in time for the wedding - it didn't. I remember the feeling of "great, I planned this oh-so-perfect-day and it freaking rains." Then at some point someone from somewhere said, "It's raining, like tears from heaven".

In those moments where I found myself lost in my memories I drifted back to Christopher's mom and the battle she lost with cancer. My grandfather who passed away just two months before our wedding. Christopher who almost two years ago left this mortal plain and my grandmother who passed just ten days after him. It was all so overwhelming to think that this rain, these tears that fall from heaven, made me feel as though they were all by my side. I did what I could to choke back my feelings.

Jenny took the stage and one of the first things she said was, "Kids are having Chemo today, this, it's just rain..." And as if gears in my head started to fall into place to yet another meaning for this race. I DON'T know what it is like to go through chemotherapy; I've always lived on the other side of cancer. The care giver/supporting side of cancer. And as much as I have gone through, Christopher had the worst part. To wake up every morning with a war waging in your body and all you can do is try and mentally fight it. To live in a body that when you want to go outside and play with your child; yet five minutes is all you can do because all your energy is drained. To know that you are going to die and leave behind the ones you love to keep going, to keep on living, even though as hard as you tried you can't be there for them. Or to be the son that never really knows his dad other than photos and stories - to never witness first hand how great your dad really was. With all of this - I don't know what it feels like and I'm sure it's worse than just what I have gone through.

We lined up and geared up for the race. Every second that went by I became unsure of what I was about to do. The horn went off and we started. Lauren was quick to give me pointers, "break from the pack, run to the side, try to get ahead of the walkers and jogging strollers". Then when we did break from the pack, "find your pace, you're doing great." And I felt good, I wasn't tired, the blood was pumping, the iPod was rocking out to "Back in the Saddle" and low and behold the rain had stopped. Before I new it the next song on my iPod played - "Stronger" and I thought to my self can this get any better! Then my iPod froze. It just stopped playing. Two songs in and not even a mile later, I had no music to zone out to, no mental motivation, "oh crap" was the first thought in my head. I had over two miles to go and no music to listen to.

But you know it was good that I didn't have my music. It was in that time that I talked to God, Christopher, and even my self. I told myself over and over; "God is at back, Christopher is by my side and Ethan is in my heart." I told Christopher how proud I was of him for going through chemo and always doing it with a smile. For walking up and down our stairs to check on Ethan when he didn't have to and when I knew he was completely drained. I expressed my feelings and love for him in a way that only I can with my words to him. My conversation with God was one that had less sarcasm than it's had before, I expressed my feelings of feeling dismantled and yet repaired by him. I thanked him for giving me strength when I thought I had none and grace when I thought I was foundering. All great talks and ones that I will carry in my heart for a very long time.

Before I knew it Lauren had finished and had doubled back to see where I was and I be honest I think I only had a half or quarter mile left to go at this point. She forced me to step it up and keep moving - she was such a great motivator. As soon as I realized that I was so close to the end I stared to get choked up. My feelings were bursting out at the seems and I thought for a moment that I wasn't going to be able to finish because I wasn't sure if I could run and cry at the same time.

Then out of the blue Lauren yelled something and the crowed started cheering and got 100 times louder than before. I took all those feelings that wanted to bust out and I let them out in a sprint to the finish line. I ran 3-point-something miles in 40 mins. That was 5 minutes off of what I had trained for. And to see my friends there cheering me on meant the world to me. And I could feel Christopher there, standing next to me and as if he whispered in my ear "that's my girl."

This day couldn't have been more perfect in so many ways. I'm so blessed to have those people and others in my life. I can't wait to run this again next year!

(from left to right: Lauren, Me and my friend "D")

The Run

One of the things I learned from Christopher was to never give up in anything; hell be damned. About a year ago I made the choice to run a 5k in Christopher's memory. The idea of doing something that takes time and training and putting in effort to finish something so amazing is something I had to do for myself; however the flu that year had other thoughts.

So I made the choice to keep training and keep running. One to stay and get in better shape because after dropping around 40 lbs after Christopher's passing I started to feel good about myself and my own health. So I trained with a trainer twice a week and let me tell you he put me through my paces.

Then one day while celebrating a friends new start to her life I met a woman. An amazing woman. Someone who I sat in awe of. She had lost her child to cancer at a very young age. Now I didn't know this woman other than a comment she left on my blog one day and that she was a good friend of my friend, but yet as I talked to her I felt a connection.

I can't remember everything we talked about; but what I do remember is thinking that no matter what I accomplish in this lifetime will never compare to what this woman had done. She took grief and tragic moment in her life and turned it into something wonderful and so very close to my heart. This wonderful woman made it to my list of people that I admire and look at with such open eyes at the awe she puts me in.

Her name is Jenny and she the co-founder of Heroes for Children. Her daughter Allie passed away September 13, 2004 from Acute Myeloid Leukemia at the tender age of 8 months 27 days. Allie and her family went through three rounds of chemotherapy, 80 blood transfusions, and a stem cell transplant and after after all of this her mother took her grief and channeled it into something so beautiful. Heroes for Children was created to help families dealing and coping with childhood cancers. Now while Christopher didn't pass away from a childhood cancer, cancer runs in our family. Ethan has lost his grandmother (Christopher's Mom) and his dad from cancer; which raises Ethan's odds, for me, in the "not so comfortable zones".

I left that evening in a sense of awe of this wonderful woman. I started following her on twitter only to find my self more in awe of what she does and how she manages to reach out to families and while she still carries around a part of grief; it is those volumes of emotions that keeps her moving forward. Which, to be honest is all we, as those who have lost ones we love, can do - move forward.

Every year they have a 5k run and after meeting Jenny and hearing about little Allie; I went home kissed my muppet (Ethan) and told myself I knew what run I wanted to honor Christopher with. This one.

So in less than a week I will dawn my running shoes, strap on my iPod filled with songs that I found on Christopher's little computer and take my place with other runners as we run to support those families dealing with childhood cancers. But my run for me will be very therapeutic as I will be for three people. I will run first and for most for the memory of Christopher and his fight to never give up no matter what it takes. How he keep moving forward even I am sure their times he wanted to stop - but he never did. Second, I run for my muppet. I run to show him that there are times in our lives that we must push ourselves only if it means to better ourselves. And lastly I run for this sweet little Allie who without her fight (and others) might this organization never have been formed.

I ask those of you who read this blog to check out the Heroes for Children website and if you can make a donation to this wonderful cause on my fundraising page.

To Everything There is a Season, a Reason

This is something that has been rolling around in my head for a little while and I thought it so moving that it needed to be shared. Christopher was an amazing man, it's no lie, I talk about it all the time. But something happened that made me feel as if he was still here showing me how great he was all over again. To explain and share this story I need to provide a little back story that took place over 9 years ago.

On May 26, 2001, Christopher and I were wed. For us it was a day of celebration, stolen glances with half cocked grins from across the room and small breathy whispers of "love you..." That day was one of the greatest moments of my life shared with friends and family from all over. A day that all we ever wanted was for people to share in the joy we had for each other; a day of pure blissful joy.

Shortly after we came back from our honeymoon we had gotten news that Christopher's cousin who was to be wed later that year broke off her engagement. Christopher and I were both shocked. While we didn't know the man she was to marry; we both looked forward to their wedding. During this time we found out the reason that the engagement was broken off. It was, well, sorta, in a nut shell, because of us. On the way back from our wedding she told her mom that as she looked out on dance floor at us dancing around, laugh, being us - in love, that she didn't feel as though she didn't have that with her soon-to-be-hubby. So the wedding was off....

I remember sitting in our apartment talking about this sudden turn of events. I remember it as though I pulled our conversation from my own memories and read it over and over like it's one of my favorite paperback novels. I explained to Christopher how I felt so bad. I didn't want for us to be the reason someone didn't get married. And in only Christopher fashion, he rubbed the nap of my neck with his thumb and said, "How do you feel when I do that?"

"I get warm and fuzzy..." I replied as I nested my head into his shoulder. He went on to explain that his cousin deserved to feel those warm and fuzzes too. That some times things happen for reasons we don't understand; but in the end it's always for the better. And well he was right. A few years later his cousin married a wonderful man that completes her and yes, gives her all the warm and fuzzy feelings one should feel when they are in a loving relationship. I couldn't be happier for her and her hubby; it warms my heart from the inside out that they found each other.

Shortly before Christopher passed away, he made it known that his wishes were to give our dinning room set (which was his mom's) and the dishes that went with it to his cousin as a wedding present. I agreed, because I knew how close she was to Christopher's mom and how much it would mean for her to have this wonderful gift. So after Christopher passed away; his aunt and cousin came and took the set. It was one of the most bittersweet moments; to share at the same time the joy I felt in sharing such a wonderful gift and sadness of having something so Christopher leave our house.

A few months later I found a random box of dishes that went to the set and I put them out to ship. Months went by and the dishes got moved around the house from place to place just waiting for me to box them up. Then one day, I said enough! Enough time has passed that I told this poor girl I would ship the dishes. So one night I boxed up these little bowls; my first shipment. The next day my little package went out.... And well... I got this message from Christopher's cousin just a few days later:

I got the package last night and I cried. Thank you so much...I had been thinking about my aunt and Chris lately and its a long story but I want to share a bit with you. My hubby and I have been looking for a home and every home we have looked at hadn't felt right for multiple reasons. One major reason is that I couldn't imagine my aunts furniture in any of the homes until yesterday. I actually cried when we left the house because it felt right. Then we went to my moms, a mysterious package was there for me and it was the bowls. I took it as a sign so we will be putting an offer in this weekend!
Thank you for taking the time and money to send me the dishes. It means a lot!

I cried as this message went across my phone. Christopher had done it again and in only a way he could. It was as if he was rubbing the nap of my neck telling me that she deserves to be happy and if we helped out, then so be it...

I married a wonder man. A man that saw the world in a way that only a select few can, through a set of gentle eyes that gave life and beauty to everything around him. He's still helping those around him even though he's gone. Geeze I love that man....

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven
- The Byrds

Happy Birthday to My Muppet

Today my sweet little boy you came into this world just a little before 10pm. I never thought I could feel the boundless sense of joy that you brought into mine and your daddy's world with just a blink of your eyes. You have done so much growing up over these past four years; to sit down and explain them all to you would take me days, for I would want to explain them in only the way I know how. Through my words of feelings that come from my heart and expounded on by my soul.

Today marks a not-so-magical day of when you life will begin to pass with more days with out your dad than days you got to spend with him. It's not fair my Muppet that I got to spend so much time with him and you didn't. It's unfavorable that people who spent more time with your dad than any of us never really got to see him as who he really was; a wonderful, gentle and caring man. I cannot make promises to you that this life God has put in front of us will get better; that the balances of fate will swing in our direction. I won't always be able to give you what your heart desires, but what I can do is make sure your heart is filled with immeasurable love from me and those that love you. And that gift is greater than any toy or material thing money can buy.

I can promise you that there won't be a second, nothing more than a blink of an eye, that will go by and you won't know that I am proud of you. Those words will flow off my lips as easily as "Ciao Bella" does for you. You only need to look in my eyes to see all the love I hold in there for you. The world is filled with endless possibilities for you and to be honest as your mom, yes I have my own set of dreams and hopes for you, but none as strong as the hope that you keep that wonderful little laugh. That little laugh that is purely intoxicating. It comes from your soul and radiates effortlessly to those around you. One can't help but feel the creation of a warm smile come over their face with that your wonderful sense of joy in what life has to offer you.

Ethan, my Muppet, my joy, you fill my life with such a glow I can't help but thank your daddy for helping in creating such a wonderful little man. You truly made some of my rougher days easier with everything there is about you. From the care and warmth in your eyes, to the wit in your belly and the sarcasm in your brow, you see the world in a technicolor dreamscape that some of us can only imagine what it's like to see the world the way you do. You have a zest for music, a wildly creative imagination and most of all such a giving heart. I could sit here and plead that you don't lose sight of any of that; but I don't have too. I know you won't. You my son are a very free spirit; something you get from both your parents, and with that I know you will always find comfort in anything you do, joy in anything your heart takes you and peace in knowing you do the things you do for you and not for the world that sits quietly around you.

I love you Muppet. Happy 4th birthday.

Mommy

How Do You Explain...

Several months ago while making dinner and Ethan sitting joyfully at our kitchen island coloring to his little heart's content he turned to me and said, "hey mommy?"

"Yes Muppet?" I replied without even thinking of might come from his mouth neither less his head.

"Can I have a brother? I want a brother." bounced quickly from his mouth and a second later I dropped whatever it was that I had in my hand. My mind raced with "how in hell am I suppose to answer this" and "how do I explain to a child who is barely three that his chances for a little brother or sister were slim and none."

Don't get me wrong, one of the things that I hold in my heart and hope for is to have more children of my own. However, several factors are not on my side. Age being one of them. So to be honest I recently let the hold I had on that hope loosen after a talk with my own mum. It was hard to let go of this hope because it meant that the life that I had always planed and dreamed of wasn't the plan that God, The Universe (whatever it is you believe in) had in store for me. And that was heart breaking. It made me wish that I could go back in time and remember what it was like to feel Ethan move around in belly, to remember that joy that came with knowing that I was carrying around a wonderful little gift.

But that's life; you can't go backwards, and sometimes my memories seem so far away from me that it's hard to pull them forward in my mind to swim around and revel in. So I sat there thinking about all of this, I was brought back to reality with a simple, "Mommy can we go to the store and get a brother?"

"Huh? What?" If only it was that easy to run to the local Target, Walmart or Kroger and go to the sibling aisle and just pick one off the shelf. I tried my best that night to explain that life wasn't that easy and not everything we want comes from Costco or the store.

I stared into those big brown eyes of my muppet and tried to see if I was getting my point across and what I saw were tears that filled up both our eyes. Ethan's understanding that he can't have a brother or sister and mine in aspect that the one part of my life that I had always hoped for from when I was young would become the one dream I will never get to have. The thoughts that there are people in the world that with the drop of a hat are blessed with 3, 4 sometimes even more children and those small lives where never in their plans and dreams and yet they had them.

I tried to explain that there are people in our lives who are not family by relations, but over time become our family due to the relationship we have with them. But to have someone so small understand this was something that I should have known he wouldn't understand. It broke my heart as if a spade was thrust into my heart and tip broken off. Later that night I cried and prayed that Ethan be given the understanding of everything I had explained to him.

Those prayers have not yet been answered and Ethan's question for a sibling came to me daily for almost a month after that. Then he went down to once a week and up until two weeks ago he hadn't brought it up for almost two months. Then while driving in the car I got the, "Hey Mommy?..."

And on the way to school this morning he explained to me in great detail how this friend had a brother and then there was this other friend of his that has a brother; so "mommy, you just not looking in the right place." I felt as if someone reached in, grabbed my heart and while pulling it out; yanked a little bit of my soul out with it. The idea of explaining to someone so tiny that his wish that he dreams about might not come true and he just has to understand that the life we were given doesn't even start out in his favor is gut wrenching.

I have to say I'm getting better about explaining it. But it just doesn't make it any easier....

My Perception of Me, Myself & I

Shortly after I turned 29 one of the most wonderful things happened to me; Ethan was brought into this world. I remember even after twelve hours of labor and two hours of pushing; I sat in my hospital room thinking this was the one of the most euphoric moments in my life (and no it wasn’t from the drugs the hospital gave me). While holding something so tiny I pondered how great this life was that I was living. I had a loving and wonderful husband that with just the way he looked at me was enough to melt my heart, then there was this little boy that made me feel as though I glowed from the inside out, and all I could think about was – if this is what it’s like to be 29, how great will my 30’s be.

I guess maybe I opened my mouth (or mind I should say) too soon or proved that was some validity behind the statement “watch what you (don’t) wish for” than one would have thought. Shortly before my 30’th birthday, I was greeted with the words, “It’s cancer.” Then spent my birthday caring for a strong man who could barely get around the house because he just had 8” of his insides removed. I honestly spent the week of my birthday wishing that this was all a dream and I would wake up to find that the world had gone back to the techno-color dreaminess I was used to. But it didn’t.

On my 31^st birthday Christopher and I traveled back from Cancer Treatment Centers of America in Tulsa with word that his doctors were doing everything they could and we left there feeling good about everything. I remember vividly sitting outside of doctor’s offices waiting for Christopher to get his tests. This little white computer in my lap and my fingers feverishly typing away everything that we knew on the blog for our friends and family back home who were constantly clicking “refresh” in the hopes that this trip might lead us to something that just might be a breakthrough. It was just a few months after that that I got the phone call that changed everything and the realization that I would became a widow and that I had barely lived three decades.

My first birthday with Christopher gone, I turned the same age that he was when we found out he had cancer. To say that my mind raced as I tried to put myself in his shoes; how I could handle news like that? And well lets just say that a new found respect was found in the deepest inner most parts of my soul for Christopher and the brave face he put on daily.

This year (Tuesday to be exact), if you do the math, I will turn the same age that Christopher was when he passed away. To say that I have spent allot of time thinking about allot of different things would be an oversimplification of what has really been bouncing around in that head of mine. To be honest, I don’t think there has been a time when I have allowed my mind to rest long enough to even fully get to REM sleep. I have thought long and hard about whom I am, what I want in life, what this life wants from me and how can I do all of it while keeping a smile on face.

In this process of trying to mentally work out everything in my head that has rolled around in there for the last three years I have come to understand and contemplate the statement of “Me, Myself & I”. Some might say this is a very narcissistic thing to say, but let me explain how I came to this statement or at the very least my perception of this statement.

Lets start with “Me”. I define “me” as the “d” before word of the cancer. The happy-go-lucky woman who saw all beauty in this world through the rose colored glasses of pure bliss. The woman who thought that all situations turn out for the better; even if it didn’t go the way I expected them to go. I was the person who would spend hours listening to her friends’ problems and issues and just hoped and prayed that I could give them advice that found them comfort. I was overly self confident in everything that I did. The world was my oyster and no one could take it away.

Then came the word of cancer and so did the next phase of who I became; “Myself”. Why do I call it this? Well for almost the opposite reason one would think. Most people would think that with news like your loved one has cancer they would turn to themselves on the inside and start to debate what does this mean for them, their family. Me on the other hand; well I was a little different. I started to think about how could I make life easier on Christopher, what could I do for Ethan to help him understand why his dad had tubes running into him every two weeks. Myself was the last person I thought of. I let myself go because I put the needs of others in my family above completely myself. I never really did my hair, make-up in the morning was always a last minute thing and the only reason I put it on was for work and even then it was haphazard.

One of my most profound thoughts when I found out Christopher was going to die was, “What do I do now?” I spent the last 18 months taking care of everything and if I didn’t have Christopher to take care of; then, well, what do I do? When there is no one to call in the mornings to make sure they are awake and out the door for work or doctor appointments, or to make sure that meds where taken in the right order and times, what do I do with those random minutes in the day? Where do I focus that energy?

That’s when I started to discover, “I”; the phase life that I am in now. It’s the balance of everything that fell between “me” and “myself”. It’s the “d” that is starting to feel like life is her oyster again and yet I am still focused on taking care of a little man that was brought into my life almost four years ago. I try to spend an hour, at the least, a week to try and read up on new cancer treatments. I follow what the government passes and not passes in the fight against cancer with insurance companies. I plan all Ethan’s meals with the mindset that I am being proactive in his diet (being that there is a link to colon cancer and a diet high in fat). But most of all, I’m also doing things for me that make me happy.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are times during this transition that I would think I have all this sorted out in my mind’s little cubbies and my feet completely planted firmly in how I feel about everything this life has brought to me and Ethan. Then there is always something that seems to shove with the greatest of force to knock me off balance. But I have always found a way to pick myself up off the ground, dust off my soul, raise an eyebrow and get a little tougher skin against the happenstance of life’s occurrences.

The way I look at life and the hopes and dreams that I hold in my heart is what makes the rain fall a little lighter upon my head. The words and feelings that are expressed here sometimes change the way people look at the world and that warms my heart that the loss of a great man wasn’t in vein. This world that I entered into on an October morning is and will always be new to me no matter how much time has passed, I will always feel as though there is a long way to go and sometimes I might even feel as though everything is just a false start.

There will be times that I feel that everything is over my head, but I will do more than my best not to show the world that those moments seem to over take what it means to be me. I was meant for this path, journey, for something – it has a reason and I just have to let this path lead me. I will always try to go where life takes me even when there are days that I want to stand in my tracks and run in the opposing direction with all the speed that my legs will take me.

Yes even now after all this time, there will still be days that are lonely, crazy, sad and filled with anxiety, but this is all just a matter of my perception. My grief is emblematic of the deep love that I hold in my heart not only for a great man but the path that it has taken to get here. As long as I am real and true to my self, love will always fill my heart no matter who is and isn’t in my life because in the end I know that this three year path of self-discovery has lead me to become a better person, a better friend, and has put me on a path that I fully embrace. I am truly blessed to know, understand and accept everything there is to know about “Me, Myself & I”.

My First Question Answered

I'm happy to say I got my first question and like I said in the post before all questions will be answered with honesty and no sugar-coating. So here we go...

Question:

Why do you want to keep writing about Christopher... I know he's inseparable part of you but isn't it the time to let him go... Doesn't he stop you from looking forward to much more that is there to life?

Answer:

To be honest I'm really happy this was my first question for several reasons, one being that this is a topic that crosses my mind daily and there really isn't an empty part of my thoughts that I don't ponder, "will I ever stop writing about Christopher?"

I knew there would be some non-magical time when the posts that talked about Christopher would become less and less and would be replaced with tales about the strides in mine and Ethan's life. I figured my posts would slowly change to be about the trails and tribulations of single parenthood. Maybe one day I might even write about, dare I say, how it feels to possibly love someone else? Or at the very least my own mental struggles of trying to love someone else and the struggles of trying to fit everyone in my heart equally.

The day I started writing again after Christopher passed away I thought I would only write for a month or two. I figured people would get bored of a 30 something woman who rambles on about the loss of her husband. Then one day my grief therapist asked me if I had ever journaled? I think I let out a little sigh and said, "I have this blog. Sorta. Not really." In my mind I had already shut down the blog; no more post ever to be written (unless some family member contacted me to see how Ethan and I were doing). Then my therapist suggested that I keep writing, not for my family, but for myself and most of all Ethan. In a way to channel all my thoughts and feelings to paper so that one day I could share them with Ethan.

One of the topics that runs rampant through my mind (and soul) is how do I balance Christopher in Ethan's life. Ethan knows that Christopher is gone, he's not shy about telling people all the time that "his daddy is in heaven" or "with the flowers". He visually knows Christopher by photos as well; often times walking up to photos in the house, pointing with vigor and declaring that "this is daddy and that is mommy". But to be honest with myself, this is all he will ever remember of Christopher. I can hope and pray till the prayer beads have nothing left to them that Ethan will remember more than just two second visual snip-its of his dad's life; but I would almost be praying for a lost cause knowing that Ethan was just a hair over two when Christopher left this mortal plain.

So I have had to make some rather tough choices over these past 20 months; ones that keep my mind restless in thought almost 24/7. When do I talk about Christopher, how do I talk about him with Ethan and what is ok to share and not share and when should this sharing happen? One of the things that was very clear to me from the beginning was that Ethan and I would be on opposing ends of the grief scale slowly moving towards each other and at some point (later in life), our paths in this journey would cross. There would come a time in Ethan's life when he doesn't understand why his dad is gone. This would be crossed with a time and place where I would have dealt with my own grief and could take all the time this world had to offer us to go through all of Ethan's questions, un-understandings and fears and work through them one by one. I could be the strong parent Ethan would need during this time and more importantly I would be in a place to sympathize with his emotions clearly, yet calmly all the while showing him the love and support he would need to work through what it was he was feeling.

So I tried, the best I could, to document my feelings and my own mental revelations if you will for him to read one day. All at his own pace and when he was ready. But I also wanted an underlining theme to what he read; I wanted him to see that his dad is with us all the time. My hopes were that these random posts would be read and Ethan would gain the hidden meaning that Christopher's memory is carried around in our hearts, the glimmer of our eyes and never really forgotten. I've always wanted Ethan to know not only who his dad was through photos but who was as a man, husband and father in my own words as the woman who was touched by his gentle nature, his caring heart and loving support. I wanted Ethan to understand what a great man his dad was and how he wanted the world for the both of us and yet even though he's not with us physically; he still betters our lives through how he effects our heart. To learn how to take that fire that always resided in Christopher's heart to better himself and learn how to harness it so that we can continuously challenge ourselves to reach out to those around us and to become better people for those around us who need it more.

So in a nut shell after all of that, I continue to write about Christopher for Ethan. I write so that one day when he starts to question everything around him (which I'm sure he will) I can show him that he's wasn't the only one that went through the questions, doubts and fears, but that I had the memory of a great man to fall back on when I felt really lost.

Will this cause me to struggle as I try to move forward in life? Yes it will; I won't lie. I'm pretty sure of it. I know that I will have a tight wire act to practice where I try find a balance in trying to keep Christopher's memory alive for Ethan and yet be able to focus on any new possible relationships that might come my way. I know that all relationships are different and while I might find someone that shares the same spirit for life that Christopher did; this person will be different and learning to accept those differences is one that I try to mentally prepare myself for. But then again, that's the beauty of this life, as people we continue to grow and learn more about ourselves and that inspires me to continue to try and move forward.