Crazy Recovery.

How many times have I heard people say to me, "Oh, I understand." This makes me want to punch them. Because unless they have had a major life altering loss, you have no idea. . You can empathize with me and that's fine. But for God's sake don't tell me that you understand. Or my other favorite " I could not even imagine what I would do if that happened to me." Which makes me want to respond with. "Try."

   As many of you know my new saga is that I am dealing with PTSD.  And while I understand that this is part of my my "Crazy Journey." In this moment, I hate it.  The rational side of me realizes that this is how I deal with painful memories, and will be grateful for the perspective I will gain. The irrational and angry side wants to scream and yell "No, more." I don't want to keep revisiting these awful images. I don't want to keep coming around the corner and seeing him intubated. I don't want to experience those flashbacks that arise at the most inopportune time.  I just want to create new happy ones to drown out the tormented pain that comes forward.

 The most annoying thing is that no one can understand this kind of "crazy." These are my memories, my flashbacks, my pain. Sometimes I wish I could take my head off and just walk away from it for awhile.  I do take comfort in talking with a friend who has also experienced PTSD. However, this type of insanity feels very alienating. But, the most irritating part of it?  Is experiencing Pete's loss all over again.   The heart wrenching ache is back but in a new form.  As if I am finally sober, and the drunken grief haze, has worn off.  Luckily the difference from then to now is that  I have someone to lean on.  He gives me courage and pushes me forward when I stand in frozen fear.   I am in a new state of crazy, if that's even possible. Before it was that I didn't want anyone to help me, but when they all left I wanted them to come back. I would be starving and make dinner, then sit down and feel full.  I would call up friends for play dates then when they got here I wanted them to go home. The crazy that encircles me now is. Loving a man who lives in heaven and loving a man on earth. Wrapped up in missing him and yet not missing him. Understanding that his body was tired, and yet  mad at him for leaving me here.  I want my old life back, and yet I want nothing to do with it.  I want to move forward and leave these painful terrifying memories behind and take the good ones with me. The ones that are buried somewhere in my mind but only occasionally do I catch glimpses of.

  It's  like being trapped in two worlds. The past and the present. Each day that I listen to that audio recording, I experience the terror and the confusion all over again. Then after the session is done I go to  bed and have dreams of being in hospitals. One night I chased Pete around the whole hospital but never once saw his face.  My most recent one, I was shot in the heart. There was no blood just a big empty whole. I walked through the corridors of the hospital while nurses and doctors walked by as if it was nothing unusual. If I think it through in a rational manner I know its my brains way of sorting it out.  I feel grateful but angry at the process.   Its overwhelming to say the least. My brain gets stuck back there with images that make no sense. Then in the present, I am trying to parent, tackle my fears of driving, manage the finances, maintain the every day demands of keeping up the house. Filled with worry and guilt that I am not being a good mom and finance because the crazy keeps sneaking in. While desperately looking for ways to keep the anxiety at bay and searching for quiet moments to finish my book.  I stand and stare out the kitchen window wishing for a break. But wonder where would I go? I can't outrun the flashbacks, the memories, and the demands of every day.  There is one place I like to go but its not close by, and at this point in my driving homework I can't even drive myself there.

So it circles around. Healing is crazy, grieving is crazy, letting go is crazing, and moving forward with even an ounce of sanity is,crazy.   My new mantra "Thank you God for giving me the Courage and the Strength I need." keeps me going. The hidden joys of remembering something painful and being grateful for the missing puzzle piece falling into place.  I take comfort in strong loving arms that hold me while I cry and loving me even when I feel bat shit crazy.  Delighting in my children's laughter as they hug me tight combined with watching with awe as my children run into J's lap for extra snuggles and tickles.  It's in these moments of sanity I look around and see love where I never thought I would have it again.  I know that if as I continue to trust the process, the blank spots will be revealed and with their reveal I can finally let them go. Where they can no longer sneak up and take a hold of me bringing me to my knees.  I feel as if these memories, and missing pieces that have been wrapped up in a cocoon, will someday be set free into something more grandiose that I ever could have imagined. And for that I am grateful. Which sounds crazy I am sure, But I am a crazy kind of gal. Intense to a fault, yet hopeful that my radiant, strong, confident, wings are emerging. With butterfly wings on my back, God in my heart, an Angel by my side, a loving fiance holding my hand, and my arms full of kids I know love outweighs the doom. After all it was love that started it, love that heals us, but most of all, it is love that binds us together on this crazy recovering journey.

Crazy,Stupid,Grieving.

What is it about grieving that feels like it will never go away? I have moments where I feel that I am free from all of it, then something unexpected happens and I am back in the thick of it.  Its not the same heart break, its just a new level.  There is this saying about how God doesn't give you more than you can handle. But the question remains. Is it that God doesn't give you more than you can handle? Or is it that your body and your brain can't take any more so eventually it just checks out.  Then when you are stronger new "events" which create triggers send you backwards to those places of dark trauma.  A trauma that I didn't even know was still an issue.

 As I mentioned in my previous post I was having more panic attacks and issues with driving.  Sometimes just the thought of visualizing myself driving down the road makes me feel light headed.  Little did I know this was just the tip of the iceberg.  Dread filled my body and heart as I realized that I needed to get back on a anti depressant, of which I had worked so hard at getting off of, but I also needed to go back to grief counseling as well. Questions filled my mind. How could this happen? I was doing so well. I was healing and moving forward. There is joy in our laughter and love in our hearts. What is going on?  To which I responded "Damn grief,. Why cant it just go away." 

 Recently I have realized one of the reasons why its not going away. One word.. "Trauma."  Trauma surrounding not only the events that took place in his passing but all the crazy, scary, terrifying shit, that came after. There are parts of it that I thankfully can't remember and yet many that are so vivid I wish I could forget them.  It seems that all the grieving I was doing before, about missing him and the hope of rebuilding our life was just the ground work for the other grieving that would take place.  The current grieving is about the effect all that crazy trauma took on my psyche.  According to my grief therapist I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The driving? Is just a manifestation of the PTSD. 

So, where do I start. At the beginning. Luckily she specializes in PTSD and has devised a plan to get me healed and back in the car and eventually off the meds too. Thankfully.  The scary is getting in the car and making myself do it everyday. Drive to the store, drive through the neighborhood, drive with a friend in the car, drive. drive. drive. but not all at once, and not for very long. Its more than the driving though. Its digging deep and bringing out those traumatic moments and letting them heal.  I am not afraid of the hard work, I know it is a process.  Mostly, I just want be able to get in the stupid car and go where ever I want to go.  I often annoy myself.  Just get in the car damnit!  Its not that hard. And yet it is that hard. Stupid grieving! Stupid trauma! 

Three steps forward and two back. I am healing, and grieving, and traumatized and grateful. I feel like a freak of nature.  I want to stand in the middle of my street and yell at the top of my lungs at how angry I am to be in this space, and in the next breath I want to sing God's praises for not only carrying us when we couldn't stand but also for bringing a loving man into our lives who loves us in spite of all our crazy.

So what now? I don't know. I guess do what I always do. Keep breathing, keep writing, keep dreaming, keep laughing, keep crying, but most of all, keep healing. After all God only gives us what we can handle right?   With my traumatized brain and my grateful heart, I relish in everlasting love, laughter from my children and Hope that I will be back in the car driving confidently on this crazy road to healing.   

Crazy Re-living.

 I have taken a hiatus from writing this blog. I didn't stop grieving, I just went into hiding. Now that I have emerged, I would say that I have become a recovering widow.  With recover comes a new type of healing, its called re living.  The irritating thing about grief, is that re entry into living is sort of like a new form of grieving. I am happy, and yet I still miss him, and yet I don't.  I knew what living life with Pete looked like, but I had no clue as to what living a happy life looked like, without him physically present.   I knew that it thankfully had to be different.  After all, I didn't want the same life now that I had finally woken up from my grieving coma.  So what does re living look like? Its messy, its complicated, its loving, its joyful, and, its bittersweet. I have learned to love in a way that I didn't think was possible.  For me re living takes a special man to come in and not think that we were broken.  What he saw, was a family that needing repairing and re loving.

There are many re-living factors that are just plain hard to over come. I feel overwhelmed. I feel that it is my job to carry every emotion, frustration or anxiety that comes through my front door. Whether it is something that happened at school with Aryanna, or a homework assignment that Petey doesn't want to do, or that Chase Leo is mad that he cant have exactly what he wants at all times. That's just the kids. That doesn't even cover J's emotions, frustrations or what he deals with while at school. In carrying all of these things I have forgotten my own emotions and have wedged them deep inside to make room for their wounds. While irrational as this seems it the only way I know. I think its because, part of me is still stuck in survival mode.   That's what I did before. I carried the kids grief and I carried my own. Now I that I have J, I carry his stuff too.   As if I am punishing myself in some way for wanting to live a happy and crazy life.  

Why do I do this? I don't know. I know that if the roles were reversed I would definitely want Pete to find love and happiness. And knowing my Pete, I know in my gut, that he would want these things for me too.  Possibly this is just another lesson in learning to re live.   I am starting to see the effects of why carrying the family is not such a good idea.   My panic attacks are back and they are geared to a specific part of my life, driving. No idea why. Its very annoying. I used to have panic attacks as a kid and my dad could never understand them. Which is common, people who don't understand what its like, just write me off, as being weird or crazy.  The problem is, is that I have to drive. Drive to pick up the kids, drive to get the groceries, drive to ballet.  Driving is just part of every day life.  I have found myself avoiding going certain places and situations for fear of having to drive on the highway or crowded roads.  Honestly, just sitting here thinking about driving to ballet on Wednesday or a dental appointment that is at the end of the month my heart starts to race, and my hands sweat.  I don't understand it and I don't know how to fix it. Any ideas? 

 The question I seem to struggle with is this, am I afraid to drive? Or is the driving a symptom of too much emotional shit that is still hanging around?  Part of being a mom is caring and carrying the burdens of your family.   So if carrying the burdens feels like re grieving and not re living then how does one cope?  

There is no handbook on grieving just like there is no handbook on how to re-learn to re-live.  I don't know, maybe I am just a crazy red haired lady learning to re live with a recovering widows perspective.  

Crazy Eyes.

I was driving down the road today, taking Petey to school. When all the sudden I am just a puddle of tears. I  thought of Pete's face and I missed him. That's all. Just that I missed him. With all the changes that have gone on in my life  and since his passing, its in those quiet moments that it still hits me. I miss him. Trying to explain this to someone who is on the outside looking in, would never know that I still have these thoughts. Its no that I don't talk about him, I just don't feel the need to talk about him as much. My perspective has changed. Lots of things have changed, but mostly its me that's changed. I look at my world with new eyes. More like one eye has a new perspective while the other one still see's things as they used to be. Sometimes its gets very confusing. And at other times it makes me want to shout out "Don't you see?"
      I haven't written in awhile. I  was back in hibernation. Recently the more I come out of my inner cave, I see a new pieces to the puzzle called "life." With each light bulb moment, I whisper to God and Pete. "Thank you for the new perspective."  Even in moments of rage and sadness, its still a new idea or thought that I hadn't realized before; and I feel grateful for "seeing" it.  It seems that everyone around here, even as we move forward still finds themselves in moments of grief.  Aryanna has been talking more about Pete, and in things she remembers.  From his cakes to games they played.  Currently she is getting ready for her dance recital. She had one two years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday. The dress rehearsal where she looks around and see's all the mommies and daddies taking pictures and laughing. That vacant look in her eyes, as she took it all in.  That moment when the music started and she came alive. She knew the dance so well they placed her right in front for all to see.  Its the moment that happens after everyone is home and in bed, where its just her and me in my room that stands out the most.  We were lying in my bed together and she was crying so hard. Huge tears rolled down her little cheeks. "I miss daddy, I wish he was here." And that helpless empty feeling I had as I held her close. All I could say to her was "I know, Mommy does too."
     Aryanna has the memory of an elephant. Nothing gets by her. I feel that as she prepares for another recital I can't help but feel, that maybe she remembers that longing she felt. I hope that she doesn't remember all the crying and extreme sadness. Since she was all of 4.5 years old.   However I look at this recital with a new perspective. Its that one eye that see's things in a new light. We are happy. We have grown and changed so much in these past two years since his passing, and we now have J in our lives.  The kids look at him like a father. I see Aryanna and Petey come alive when he comes to their soccer game, ballet class, or even just being able to sit in his lap whenever they feel like it.  Aryanna even said last night that she wanted to do something special for J for fathers day. That makes my heart smile. Its a sign of healing, of new beginnings, of new life.  She heals and she grieves, like me.
      Another milestone for me was Pete and my wedding anniversary. It was the 26th of April. I realized the night before that it would have been our 10 yr. It hit like a ton of bricks. Really?? 10 years!! Who was I 10 years ago? Who was he?  It seemed hard to believe that I was even old enough to be married 10 years. The thoughts of how young I was. And the memories of that beautiful day 10 years ago.  I didn't tell many people. I at first didn't want to even tell J. I sort of just wanted it to come and go without notice. I don't know why really.  When in reality its actually huge. Its the beginning of our life together as a family. Like the first chapter of being an official Barajas.  When I did finally tell J he was very supportive and asked what he could do to make it easier. I didn't know. I planned to go out with my girlfriends to have sushi. I don't really go out to dinner and I hardly ever have sushi. So, it was something new and different to do. Along with something to look forward to.  The day came, and I was OK on and off. Then late afternoon. I really wasn't. All I could do was cry. Cry for the life we had, cry for the husband and man that wasn't physically here and cry for me. With one eye, I saw the pain and the hurt. With the other I saw a man who see's the kids and I as his present and future and vice versa brush the tears off my face with concern and say, "I'm sorry, I don't know how to help." However he was helping. I had him. Where in years passed I didn't. I wasn't alone in the present moment even though it felt like a very lonely place. Perspective.
      Who was that young bride with the whole world in front of her. She was strong and she wanted to stop the cycle. She found a good man, with light in his eyes and passion in his heart. She had the whole world and didn't know it. She lived under a rock and lived a little bit like "#JuneCleaver."  On one level that wasn't bad. She learned what a loving family was. What it meant to have trust in another person. To finally understand what being husband and wife was all about. Understanding that he was my best friend, and husband and how important that was. The bond that would pull us through moments where we didn't really like each other very well but why we still kept holding on. The beauty and the frustration of becoming a mother. Learning the balance of motherhood, parenthood  and even partner-hood.  How to be a team, how to be a home-maker, and how desperately not to lose my identity. But I still did lose who I was. I conformed.  I didn't ask questions, I didn't pay enough attention to things that I should have and eventually I felt very helpless. But, That young bride who in a moments eye, lost my whole world. Learned a very important perspective. Strength in a form I never knew I had. I put one foot in front of the other and kept going.
    I didn't lie down and let the emptiness, bitterness, and depression take over. I got up every morning. I hated it. I didn't want to be where he wasn't. But we did it anyway.  Where is that Bride now?  She is strong, courageous, loving, and most of all found out who she is. More that what she thought. I can't be walked on, I can't  be taken advantage of. I ask the questions and look for the silver lining. I look for a perspective when I know there is a better way. I found love in an unexpected place. I found love because I knew what love looked like. I knew what it meant to be loved unconditionally. In both forms. One, with God who carried us when we could not even move. And in another form from Pete, who taught me the importance of family and marriage.  While I have seen this with new eyes. I get why my grief of my 10 year anniversary was a big deal. Its remembering the beauty, the joy, the beginning chapters, as well as the heartache. But still. I am grateful.
     These eyes of mine have seen much. I know they will see and experience more. The perspectives I hope to gain. The ideas of doing it different and in ways that I didn't know I could. . Knowing that this mother and eventually wife knows the importance of holding on to the Woman inside who is capable of incredible things. It's putting the puzzle together one crazy piece at a time, with these crazy eyes.

The Crazy holiday griever...

The holidays are supposed to be filled with such joy and wonder. And for the most part they are. That is if you aren't grieving. I wouldn't call myself an Active griever. If there is such a phrase. But I am not a passive one either. I am in the middle. I am a learned to live with loss and heartache while moving forward into the next stage of my life griever.  However the holidays make me feel like a full fledged all in griever.  In moments where there is supposed to be joy and wonder I find myself looking out the window thinking and wishing he was here to physically see it. It's another Christmas without him. It's another Birthday without him, its another new year without him.
   The holidays are also full of so many emotions that leave me feeling confused. One minute exuberant and giddy the next angry and sour. Yelling from one end of the house to the other and then sitting on the couch crying my eyes out. And yet, I am still happy to be where I am. Happy that I am not where I was three years ago and happy to have learned to let in love and be loved by another.  My children are happy, they have  have found once again their sparkle and wonder of the spirit of Christmas but also of being a child as well.  So why in all of this happiness should I still ache for him?  It's simple.. I always will. No matter how many holidays, birthdays, seasons, or monumental events I will still look out the window and miss him.  This idea I think escapes many. Those who have never really loved. with their whole heart. Or. have never really known or felt true, pure love. It is because I have had it, known it, tasted it, and lived it. Do I know the sheer and rare beauty of it.  It's why I can learn to live with the pain, and love again. Its not the same love. And why would it be. I am not the same person that I was then.  I have learned much, and I am still learning every day.
    Lately I feel that my anger gets the best of me. I am mad at him. Still mad!  Pete, I think always knew he wouldn't grow old. Its why he lived his life the way he did. The things that make me so mad, are the questions that I cannot ask him. So many things that he didn't tell me and I want to know why. Why did he leave me here to figure them out. No heads up, no warning.  A "hey, if I die before you, some of these things will be really hard, and this is why..."  I had an idea about some of these "ideas" mostly because I watched his relationships and how he interacted with people. What he expected and what made his heart hurt when he was misunderstood.  Most of them though, he protected me from. And while I am grateful, I am also really mad too.  I knew him better than anyone else. He was the inside of my heart and the air that I breathed. We were a team in raising kids, in marriage and most of all my best friend. He was calm when I was over the edge, and I was calm and reasonable when he was being stubborn and bull headed.   However I still feel like he left me here. With each step forward, I realize something new. With each perspective I see with new eyes, and yet I still find myself yelling over my shoulder Damnit Pete! Why didn't you tell me how to do this.
      When I met Pete he was my knight in shining armor. That is exactly what I needed. I needed rescuing. I needed someone to show me that I was needed. That there was more to me than just a pretty face. That I was smart, charismatic,  funny, and witty. He gave me the strength I needed, and I helped him see a new perspective as well. To see wonder, to look outside the engineering box and believe in things unseen.  He helped pave the way  for what was to come.   When he passed, I couldn't see. I was in the dark. Completely blinded. I got up every day for my kids and for the baby that I was growing. I pushed forward. It was as if I put on a harness hooked myself up to the front of my van and pulled everyone in it along. Through rain, through, snow, sleet, mud,  heat, sweat, tears,and blood. Empty, lost, lonely and needing him so badly that I thought the van would crush me. I still thought to myself that what I needed is to be rescued. However in these last couple days, I have realized I don't need rescuing. I am THE Warrior. What I need, is another harness. Another harness, for someone to hook themselves to this van, and pull it with me. So that we the warriors do it together. " I need man that stands beside me, not in front of or behind me, I need a man that stands beside me" (JoDee Messina)       I take that pain, and that anguish of a heart that was fragmented into millions of pieces. With all those fears, angst, worry, anxiety, and tears.  I learned how to put my heart back together. I learned how to put my children's hearts back together. I learned, what we were and are made of and with all of those things that we saw and tasted and tested together I learned  and we learned to love again.
   Its not easy to let go, "I'm holding my heart out by clutching it too." (NickelCreek)  However its the way one survives. To learn, to grow, to gain a new perspective  With each Christmas that passes, with each of his birthday's that goes by. I miss him still, with such intensity that it takes my breath. But my heart still beats, and I still breathe in and out.  I still remember the man that I loved. The man that loved me. The man that picked me to love for always. He married me, and we have three beautiful children. He may not physically be here but I rejoice in the fact that I had him in my life. These two harnesses that now pull this van. This love, this life that we are weaving together.  It makes up every strand that is my life, that was his life that he is not physically capable of living right now.  His heart lives in me. It lives in his children. With his memory., his path, his essence we grow. The man that has been blessed in our lives now, that wears this harness to help pull this van. My children look up to him. He helps them heal. To be like a father in a way that their daddy just can't do right now. I am grateful that CL calls him Dada. That Petey refers to him as his dad to his friends. That Aryanna can look into another man eye's and know love.   What healing has taken place in this house and in our hearts. While I still have many moments of intense grieving,  moments of anger and frustration along with so many questions.  I also have many moments that make my heart smile. With tears in my eyes I look to the heavens, I thank God, for courage and strength that he gives me every day. I reach my left hand over to my right shoulder and pat the place where I feel Pete's hand.  I nod my head and whisper  I am grateful, I am grateful.
          

I can do nothing but think of the heart break of all those parents and loved ones that lost their child, spouse, friend, and teacher. The things that they all witnessed and heard make me physically ill. I can't seem to shake it.  The endless questions and the only thing I keep wondering is why? I am sure many of you, who have had such a major loss cant help but feel similar  My children are the same age of those who passed. It takes everything I have not to just strap my kids to me so that they are never out of my sight.  Since I learned of this horrific event I can't seem to compartmentalize it. I think  about it often throughout the day.  I have nothing inspiring or thoughtful to say. I have an awful ache in my heart.   May all those who are grieving be surrounded in love, may the images fade from your memory and know that you are surrounded in angels wings all over the land.   

Angel-versaries are Crazy..

I have gone around and around in my mind. Over and over about "What do I want to do for the upcoming angel versary. A part of me wants to go out with friends for dinner, but the other part not so much. A huge part of me just wants to let it pass me by. To come and to go. This year it feels like I don't need to make its presence known. I mean. I will know its "the day"  since I cant stop thinking about it. But right now it feels like What difference does it make. Its not like I don't miss him any less. I don't need a certain date to remind me with every breath that I take; that he isn't  here. Its a Crazy place to be in. Happy and grieving. What does that look like? This. No amount of moving forward with ever take the place of him. My heart will forever have a hole in it. I mean, its not a gaping wound any more (thank goodness) but what remains is a hole. A hole in my heart and a hole in my core. To know that I will never have that love again leaves me empty. That love, my Pete is not physically here. And on this upcoming Nov 21, I want to just let it wash over me. To come and to go. I want J and my kids with me. And i want to just be. Just be in tears, just be in laughter, just be in memory, just be Crazy, or just be sat on by Aryanna, Petey, and Chase Leo, with J holding my hand. I am grateful and full, yet empty too. Its not something the average person could grasp. Its a special place for those Crazy Widows, and Widowers to understand.
         Sometimes, I want to shout, at the top of my lungs, to all of those who have so much animosity towards me for moving forward. I can't stand still. I wont. They didn't know my Pete the way I did. Not in the same intimate way. He would never have wanted the kids and I to stand still. At some point I have to just let. it. go. I cant please every one, and after three years I am tired of trying. No amount of trying to see or explain to those on the outside looking in what the big picture really looks like. I loved Pete with every ounce that I ever was, and I will never stop loving him. Its just different now. I cant go back, I can only go forward. It's not moving on.. Did you hear me? Its not moving on.. It's moving forward. One angel-versary at a time.
            My sister mentioned to Aryanna the other night that she was so proud of her and that her Daddy would be so proud of her too. Which I tell her all the time. But I think, it was good for her to have someone else tell her  that they too thought her daddy would be so proud of her. She also mentioned that it would be almost three years since your daddy died. I cringed of course. I felt like "NO, why did you tell her that?"  you think she doesn't know that? You think that in her bones she doesn't know that? Why, did you bring it up? Does she really need to know that? She is already starting to put two and two together. That the age of CL is the number of years that Pete has been gone. She doesn't need to know dates. Someday when she is older I will tell her. But not at 7. She doesn't need a date to remember when her whole world turned upside down. With every step she takes, she remembers. She and Petey will never forget. Like me they too are healing but they also have a hole in their hearts.     I know I have heard it a million times. Kids are so resilient  Yes they are. But they are also the most sensitive little beings on the planet. And My kids are so in tune with their own emotions, as well as every one else in the house. They feel it. So they don't need to know whats around the corner they already know. So why mark it on the calendar. I know,  I can't protect them forever, obviously. But I can protect them for a little while.
       I wish I could just see his face. I really would like to talk to him. So many questions. Some random and bizarre  like.. Did you like your service? Did you like what I wrote about you? The music; what did you think? And some not so random.. Did you see your son being born? I know, I felt you there with me.  Can you believe how big Aryanna is? And Petey can you believe that he looks just like you, isn't that so Crazy? As if I could just call him up on the phone, like two best friends that haven't talked in years. Knowing that since he lives too far away  he can't come for a visit. But just to hear his voice. Most of all I want to know is he proud of me too. I know in my heart that he is. I just want to hear him  say it with my physical ears that he is.  I often feel his hand on my shoulder. Like he is sitting beside me as if I could just reach out and touch him... It never goes away the missing him. It just gets more bearable. I have learned to live with out him physically here. I never wanted to, but I had to. For me, for my children and even for him too.  
      I still don't know what I want to do on Wednesday. I do know that I will be surrounded in love, joy, and  tears. However with those tears comes remembering moments that are too scary to recall with sanity in tact. But the ones that are so abundant in love they drown those scary ones out. I am grateful to look upon my beautiful children that he blessed me with. To feel their arms around my neck, the strong steady hand of J's hand in mine and a unseen hand on my shoulder who has been here the whole Crazy time encircling us all in Angel wings.